Night Court

Tell me you guys watched last night's episode

of "Real Housewives: Ultimate Girls Trip."

It was incredible. Three of them realized

they slept with the same plastic surgeon.

Yeah, I stopped watching after they trashed

that Thai monastery.

First time a monk talks in a thousand years,

and he yells, "Bitches!"

Oh, television.

At least radio had the dignity to just die!

Mind if I put these here?

Something wrong? Oh.

Did you let that guy outside take a picture of your feet?

I don't care what he says.

There is no such thing as a foot talent scout.

I don't know. He's the reason why my feet are famous in Japan.

I just found out my doorman died.

- Oh, no. - I'll never forget

the last thing Angel said to me.

"You think CC Sabathia ends up in Cooperstown?"

Pure gibberish. Should have known he was dying.

Wow. I don't know what to say

other than... I'm sorry you're sad.

Back in a jiff.

Oh, drama detected.

That phony "I'm sorry you're sad"

was classic "Housewives" insincerity.

Not what I expected from Time Out New York's

Most Huggable Judge.

Oh, I will hug the hell out of someone

when they're not lying to my huggable face!

Ohh! Whoa.

Why do you keep dropping bombs and walking away?

She's not upset her doorman died

because that guy wasn't her doorman.

Wh-a-a-a-at?

That's...

I don't exactly know what that is.

She bribed him so she could have her mail sent

to a fancy building and people would be impressed.

She's not sad that poor man died.

She's sad she lost her fake address.

That's a pathological insecurity

rarely seen in real life.

I'm in the show!

Only this isn't a reality show.

If it was, I'd have a tagline, something like...

"Watch out because I'm judge, jury, and...

sex-ecutioner."

You're right. This isn't a show.

In light of the circumstances,

it would be beneficial to get the facts of the case

from the defendant himself.

You really want this boob to do his thing?

Quiet, Dan. The show's starting.

Ooh, you're sad?

Because you did a bad thing.

What could you possibly be typing?

A-And you throw yourself at the mercy of the court!

Objection! He's charged with murder.

That does make this less fun.

I'll let a jury decide what happens to you.

For now, time to go back in a box.

Bright side-- no one can accuse you of being a snitch.

- Hey. How ya holding up? - It's a lot.

It's not every day your doorman dies.

Or any day for some of us.

I want to send you some comfort food.

How about some bad lie? I mean, pad Thai.

Still at 280 Central Park West?

Deliveries are just tough for me right now.

Maybe Venmo me the $75.

The people versus Sy Hoffman.

Wait. The Sy Hoffman?

Hey! Excuse me! Necktie! Can we run that again?

Only this time, I'd like it to be...

"And now presenting three-time Tony nominee Sy Hoffman!"

It's like "Sir" or "Doctor."

It's, uh-- It's a legal term.

In case you couldn't tell,

the defendant is a Broadway producer.

Who I refuse to defend on the grounds of I hate him.

Counselor, if you refuse to represent

every client you hated, you'd never work.

That's the dream.

Judge, I know addressing the defendant is frowned upon,

but could I-- - Go ahead.

Dan's quitting. You're interrupting.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

Mr. Hoffman, I'm a huge fan.

I fell in love with the theater after seeing your production of

"Please Get Sick: An Understudy's Story."

And I'll just say you're even more handsome in person. Heh!

The bailiff rests.

Thank you, Gurgs.

Dan, what's your problem with the guy?

It's the same old story, Your Honor.

This hot pair of legs comes waltzing into the rehearsal hall

with nothing but doe eyes,

a pair of tap shoes, and a dream.

Well, it takes a lot more to make it in this town

than that, bucko!

That's not what happened!

I invested $5,000 in one of his flops--

"Camouflage: The Musical."

He swore it would be a hit.

The camouflage was so good,

you couldn't even see anybody that was on the stage!

Very well. Court will adjourn until

another attorney is available.

The search begins in ah-five, six, seven, eight!

Well, anyone would be better than this washed-up hoofer.

You are remembering our relationship incorrectly.

I don't dance!

You wanted to see me?

And I assume take me on a magic-carpet ride?

I know you're going through something,

so I've created a space to heal,

feel, and get totally real.

Welcome to my grief nest.

Oh. No, no, no. This-- This isn't necessary.

Ooh! Are these chocolates?!

One for each stage of grief.

The dark represents the dark place you're in.

The white is for anger-- because it's disgusting.

Ohh.

- There you go. You warm? - Mm-hmm.

- You cozy? - Mm.

Good. 'Cause I know Angel wasn't your doorman!

What?! This isn't a grief nest! It's a-- It's a cozy trap!

Ow.

How did you know?

I dropped by your place that time you called in sick

to bring you pretzels and Skittles.

I don't do soup. Who wants to eat something

a chicken took a bath in?

But hold on. You sent me that vintage armoire for my birthday.

You made me FaceTime you

while I wrangled it into the service elevator.

You didn't bat an eye.

You just did it. That's bonkers!

Well, I guess it doesn't matter

'cause pretty soon everyone will know the truth--

that I live in the Little Queens section of Staten Island

and have to take a barge to a kayak

to a ferry to get to work.

I can't believe you're this upset

about losing a fake address.

Hey! I invested a lot of time in that guy!

I had to bring him a doughnut every week,

and then I had to get gluten-free

when we found out he was celiac.

Ohh! And then he was up to two doughnuts during the divorce.

And now he's gone.

And where does that leave my packages?

Wait a second. Was I wrong?

Is it possible that, despite your best efforts,

you formed a real relationship with Angel?

Is this the longest relationship you've ever had?

I've had longer.

There's a shadowy figure called the Puppet Man

who's been visiting my dreams since I was 12.

What does Angel say about the Puppet Man?

Oh, he had some theories. It never came up.

Olivia. Angel didn't just accept your packages.

He accepted you. This is a real loss.

You should go to his funeral. - Just stop it!

The only thing I lost today was a bougie address.

Just know I'm storming out,

but it's hard because of the pillows!

Blech! White chocolate! Anger!

You're very sweet to remember my glory days.

Past couple of decades have been rough.

My picker's been off.

I put all my savings into a musical "Mister Saigon."

It's about my dry cleaner, Teddy Saigon.

Hm.

The idea to offer actual dry cleaning

during the show was inspired,

though there was one stain that they couldn't--

Hey, hey. No refunds!

Hey, Sy! About ready for your big finish?

Oh! Have you met Mitzi, your new public defender?

Hi. I'm Mitzi. Sorry I'm late.

I couldn't get a babysitter. They're not my kids.

I'm their babysitter.

FYI, if my phone rings and it's Mike Todwell,

I have to answer it 'cause I heard he likes me.

Can you believe this is her first case?

That's who they cast as my lawyer?

I may have made a few calls.

Come on, Dan. Can't you represent him?

I mean, you represented that mime,

and he strangled someone with invisible rope.

Yes, of course.

I'll represent Sy-- for the $5,000 he owes me.

I don't have it. That's why I got arrested

for selling fake memorabilia in the first place!

I thought it was a weapons charge.

No, they were fake dueling pistols from "Hamilton,"