A pretty decent entry in the series. This is the tenth season and yet the performances are still animated and the stories up to the usual high standard. But it wouldn't be long before the shark was jumped.
A wealthy man takes his comatose wife to the ER. They've been playing sexual games in which the husband injects the wife with insulin, puts her into a light state of shock, and has his way with her, every which way, while she enjoys being unable to resist. This time, there was an apparent overdose. The question is whether the husband did it deliberately to get her money, did it deliberately to kill her before she died of Parkinson's disease, or did it accidentally? And then it really gets twisted.
It must be nice to have money. These are the people who, when placed under arrest, tell their secretaries, "Call my lawyer." They HAVE lawyers. I've seen a lawyer twice in my life. One of them listened to my tale of woe for half an hour, told me he'd look into it and call me back, and charged me one hundred dollars. A few days later, having received no information, I left a message and got this response: "This is Mr. Stiffem, returning your call," as if he'd never heard of me. Another lawyer charged me the same amount to retype a letter I'd already written, but he got the addressee wrong! "The first thing we do, let's kill the lawyers," says Dick in Henry IV, Part 2. Well, I'm glad I got that off my chest. How much do I owe?
Now, the husband in this case probably had the right idea -- rendering his spouse unable to resist. (My ex never needed a drug to make me helpless; talking was enough.) But it turns out he was simply a tool of the evidently innocent daughter, who really WAS after mother's money in order to fund her own coffee-table-book business. But the REAL culprit is the doctor who was in cahoots with the daughter. Let's see him wield his Aesculapian authority in the slams. If he's lucky, they'll make him an assistant in the library at Sing Sing.
A wealthy man takes his comatose wife to the ER. They've been playing sexual games in which the husband injects the wife with insulin, puts her into a light state of shock, and has his way with her, every which way, while she enjoys being unable to resist. This time, there was an apparent overdose. The question is whether the husband did it deliberately to get her money, did it deliberately to kill her before she died of Parkinson's disease, or did it accidentally? And then it really gets twisted.
It must be nice to have money. These are the people who, when placed under arrest, tell their secretaries, "Call my lawyer." They HAVE lawyers. I've seen a lawyer twice in my life. One of them listened to my tale of woe for half an hour, told me he'd look into it and call me back, and charged me one hundred dollars. A few days later, having received no information, I left a message and got this response: "This is Mr. Stiffem, returning your call," as if he'd never heard of me. Another lawyer charged me the same amount to retype a letter I'd already written, but he got the addressee wrong! "The first thing we do, let's kill the lawyers," says Dick in Henry IV, Part 2. Well, I'm glad I got that off my chest. How much do I owe?
Now, the husband in this case probably had the right idea -- rendering his spouse unable to resist. (My ex never needed a drug to make me helpless; talking was enough.) But it turns out he was simply a tool of the evidently innocent daughter, who really WAS after mother's money in order to fund her own coffee-table-book business. But the REAL culprit is the doctor who was in cahoots with the daughter. Let's see him wield his Aesculapian authority in the slams. If he's lucky, they'll make him an assistant in the library at Sing Sing.