01x09 - The Venus Butterfly

Episode transcripts for the TV show "L. A. Law". Aired: September 15, 1986 – May 19, 1994.*
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High-powered law firm of McKenzie, Brackman, Chaney and Kuzak handles both criminal and civil cases, but the office politics and romance often distract them from the courtroom.
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01x09 - The Venus Butterfly

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- Previously on "L.A. Law..."

- Leon's my name and
photography's my game.

How about a snapshot of
the bride and groom, huh?

- Definitely.

- Ms. Van Owen.

- Yes?

- Isn't it true

that you walked out on your
own wedding two weeks ago

with someone in a gorilla suit?

Who's the ape, Ms. Van Owen?

- Oh, that story has
been grossly exaggerated.

- Proving once again

a picture's worth
a thousand words.

- If we get passed over
for partner one more time,

that's it.

- Pretty serious bluff.

- You are both hereby tendered

offers of partnership
in the firm,

and I hope you accept.

- You started this
brawl, lady, not me.

- I'll take her
out of the state.

- Do either one of you
know what it feels like

to not be able
to see your child,

or even know where he is?

Well, I do.

- Abby, the reality is you
may get Eric back tomorrow,

you may not find
him for six months,

or you may never see him again.

- So my client, Mrs. Troutman,

decides that she needs
to get away for a few days.

She packs her car.

She drives down to the
condo in Palm Springs

and puts the key in the door,

walks down the
hallway to her bedroom,

only to find the
surprise of her life:

her loving husband in the
arms of another woman.

- Excuse me, Arnold,

but why are we squandering
valuable staff meeting time

with this boring recitation

of a mundane little
domestic drama?

- You have interrupted me

right at the punch
line, Douglas.

You see, that was no woman.

That was his wife.

- I'm afraid I'm not tracking.

- Bigamy. Bigamy.

Do you know how rare it is?

I mean, this is the
divorce lawyer equivalent

of a hole in one.

- And poor Mrs. Troutman
is totally distraught.

Her husband skips
town, the IRS is auditing,

and Angela Sipriano
just uncovered a deed

where he's giving
our client's condo

to the other wife.

- Well, this is
indeed titillating,

and I trust you will keep us
apprised of the continuing saga.

Now, for one last item,

I would like to discuss
hiring an interior design team

to convert the Chaney office
into a second conference room.

- Oh, wait, no, no,
no. No way. No way.

That office has my name on it.

- Since when?

You already have a nice one,

whereas I, a partner
in this firm just like you,

am officed in a rabbit warren.

- As the partner with most
seniority, I should get it.

She can have my old office.

- I don't like differentiating
on the basis of seniority.

All partners are equal, Arnold.

Do you have any interest
in the corner, Michael?

- Not enough to make it
worth packing and moving.

- Stewart?

- Yeah, actually.

Yes, I do.

- Actually, it would seem
more equitable to me

to award it on the
basis of fees generated

in the last fiscal year.

- Or on the basis of
most billable hours.

- Whatever you three decide.

I'm going to leave it to you

to work it out
amongst yourselves

and on your own time.

- We're adjourned.

- I had dibs on this
office the day he croaked.

- And I will scratch
the paint off your porch.

- Do you realize your bickering

can be heard all
through the complex?

Just be assured

that if you cannot find some
mature intelligent manner

in which to settle this in
the next three minutes,

this office will be turned
into a conference room.

- All right.

Under the circumstances,

there's only one way
to settle this thing.

- What?

- Arnie.

- Come on. We
haven't got a lot of time.

Get them out there.

Get them out.

1 potato, 2 potato, 3 potato, 4,

5 potato, 6 potato,
7 potato more.

Out. 1 potato, 2
potato, 3 potato, 4,

5 potato, 6 potato,
7 potato more.

- Out.

- 1 potato, 2
potato, 3 potato, 4.

- It isn't fair. What
do you need it for?

- I want it.

- You're the one that said

that all you need
is a desk, a chair,

and a place to store your files.

- And you're the one who told me

I undervalue my
worth to this firm, right?

Well, it's a great office.
I think I deserve it.

- Errr.

- I'll give you 5,000,
paid off in installments.

- I don't want money,
Arnie. I want the office, okay?

- Excuse me, Arnie.

Angela Sipriano is
waiting in the office

for you and Stewart.

- This is gonna be a tight
squeeze for the three of us.

- It's okay. I can rough it.

- You're going to
find this interesting.

The original client was
Mrs. Foster F. Troutman.

He told her his middle
name was Farrell.

The one in Palm
Springs is Mrs. Foster J.

He told her James.

The new ones I found are
Mrs. Foster C. for Charles,

E. for Errol, and
K. for Kenneth.

- Alphabetical order?

- Exactly, which means
there's most likely 11 of them,

A, B, D, G, H, and I
still unaccounted for.

- And what about L through Z?

- How the hell does he do it?

Bee pollen?

- Heh.
- Actually, what he'd do

is take their stuff,
jewelry, furs, cars,

report it stolen,

live on the settlement
from the insurance company

and give the stolen item
to another wife as a gift.

- You know, I'm not a
violent man by nature,

but, boy, what I
would really like,

what I would really
enjoy is five minutes alone

in a stuck elevator
with this guy.

- Me, too.

I'd like to find out what
the big attraction is.

- In the meantime,
why don't you see

if you can get all
the wives in here

so we can try and
sort out this mess?

- Abby, hi.

- Anything?

- I left a message on
your machine this morning.

A string of gas card purchases

make it seem like he's
headed back towards L.A.

State and local
authorities are alerted.

If they are headed
back, they'll snag him.

- That's what you said
about Disneyworld.

- I know what
you're going through,

and I know it seems we're
right back where we started,

but I got a pretty
good instinct,

a real strong feeling
something is going to break.

So just... just hang
in there, okay?

- Okay.

- Okay.

- He's got to be crazy.

- I just don't believe
the guy's chutzpah.

- Dismissal and
straight probation

for a premeditated m*rder.

- Yeah, well, you know he's
gonna argue mercy k*lling

as a crime of passion and love.

- He bought a g*n,

he took a month
to think about it,

and then he puts two
b*ll*ts into his lover's skull.

You don't get a hell of a lot
more premeditated than that.

- I don't know, Gracie.

Watching someone you
love, terminally ill, in pain.

You know, if I was still a DA,

I don't know if I'd be
able to stomach this one.

- What's your other choice?

If you shine it on,
it's a message.

A parent with a
brain-damaged kid,

go ahead and smother him.

Or maybe your aged
mother's become a real drag.

Give her some pills.
Put her out of her misery.

- Next stop, eugenics, human
experimentation, n*zi German.

Believe me, I know
all of the arguments

and I'm still saying

I'd have a hard time
putting this guy away.

- Remember the
Hector Figueroa case?

You said, and you were right,

the law has to come first,

no matter what your
personal feelings

about the equities of
each individual case.

- Well, maybe this
law should be changed.

- Oh, that'd be nice.

And who do you suggest should
decide who lives and who dies?

- All I know, Gracie,
is that if I was dying

and I'd lost all human
dignity and quality of life,

I sure would hope someone
would love me enough

to do it for me.

- Well, then I hope you can
find someone else, Kuzak,

because this loved
one sure couldn't do it.

Mr. Walters, if the
defendant is convicted,

he could be
facing life in prison.

Do you think that this
would influence your ability

to make a fair
determination of the facts?

- No, not at all.

- All right.

But what if the defendant
were able to show

that the man that he
k*lled was in great pain

and had only a
few weeks to live?

Would you have any difficulty
finding Mr. Appleton guilty

under those circumstances?

- Well, no, not if you prove

that he pulled the
trigger, I wouldn't.

- Thank you.

The people would accept
Mr. Walters as a juror.

- Mr. Gilliam.

- Mr. Walters, you're
a construction worker.

Is that correct?

- Construction foreman.
- Uh-huh.

Do you have any prejudice
against h*m*?

- No, I don't think so.

- Are you a h*m*?

- No. Are you?

- As a matter of fact, I am.

- Well, for your information,
I'm a married man.

- With all due respect, so
are a lot of h*m*.

- Are you trying to
tick me off, or what?

- Yes, if that's what it takes

to discover if you have
any latent prejudice.

- I like women. That
doesn't make me prejudiced.

- Oh, I see.

Well, do you think you
could judge my client

knowing that he has
AIDS-related complex?

- The truth is,

I would rather not be
in a room every day

with a guy that's got it.

- I'd ask that Mr. Walters
be excused for cause.

- Thank you, Mr. Walters.

You're excused.

We'll take our noon recess
and reconvene at 2:00.

- Excuse me. A
moment of your time?

- It must have hurt
to lose Walters.

- I don't want a prejudiced
juror any more than you.

- Really? You mean
your office didn't tell you

to stack it with f*g bashers?

- Oh, come on, Mark.

If you can get the
chip off your shoulder,

you'd know I'm trying
to be as fair as I can.

- Good. Then you'll
dismiss the case.

- Mark, your client took the
life of another human being.

- My client performed
a merciful act.

His only motivation was love.

- I am not unsympathetic
to your client's situation,

which is why I am still
willing to fight with my office

to get you involuntary
manslaughter.

- Well, you know that
an AIDS carrier in prison

is gonna be isolated
from all human contact.

Talk about your cruel
and unusual punishment.

- It is not unreasonable
for the prison authorities

to need to isolate
a deadly disease.

And, besides, we're probably
only talking about 18 months.

- Right, right, which,
in the likelihood

that Christopher's AIDS
does become full-blown,

is the equivalent
of a life sentence

in solitary confinement.

- So what you're saying here

is that there is no
way to settle this.

- If I lose, I'll appeal.

In the end, chances are

there's nothing the
courts can do to him

that this hideous plague
isn't gonna do first.

- Make yourself
comfortable, Mrs. Troutman.

- Thank you.
- Good morning.

Tissue, Mrs. Troutman?

All right.

I'll get that coffee for
you, Mrs. Troutman.

- That's my coat.

My initials are
inside this coat.

- My initials are.

Judith Troutman.

- Jeanette Troutman.

- Mrs. Troutmans, coffee?

- I want my coat, damn it.

- Ladies?

Mrs. Troutmans? Ladies?

Please?

- I can't believe that happened.

- Please, ladies. Please.

Thank you.

- Hi. I'm Arnold Becker,
and this is Stewart Markowitz.

First of all, I'd like to state

that I understand what a
shock this must be to all of you,

and I sincerely empathize
with your anger and pain.

- Coat's worth 40 grand.

- I understand there's been

a great deal of
commingling of property,

and other sticky legal
issues are involved as well,

polygamy, insurance
fraud, IRS complications.

Now, you ladies are free to
seek separate counsel, of course.

Or assuming you're willing to
waive any conflict of interest,

we could all work together
and try to unravel this muddle.

- May I say something?

- Of course.

- I know we're angry and
hurt by what's happened.

- That's an understatement.

- But this isn't some
monster we're talking about.

This is Foster,
Foster, the only man

who ever brought me any
real happiness in my life.

- I'm sorry.

I suppose I shouldn't say this,

but I love him anyway.

He's the only man who
ever really listened to me,

and I can't bear the thought

of not feeling his
body close to mine.

- Excuse me.

Could any of you others tell me

if you found him to be
unnaturally gifted in that area?

- I used to faint.

I mean, actually
lose consciousness.

- Your investigator said
that Foster could go to jail?

- Jail would k*ll him.

He's so claustrophobic.

You know how he has to
sleep with the windows open.

- If Foster goes to jail, I
may as well become a nun.

- If Foster goes to
jail, I might as well die.

- Oh, please.

This man that you
all loved so much

stole everything you had,

and I'm not just talking
about your property.

He stole your love and
your trust and your dreams.

Please don't delude
yourselves like this.

Foster Troutman didn't love you.

Nope. He used you,

and he's probably laughing
at all of you right now.

Yeah, laughing at
how he scammed you

and how he used
you for his meal ticket.

And the saddest thing of all

is that it's only because you
are such kind, loving women

that he was able to
abuse you this way.

Well, now is the time to harden
those tender hearts of yours

and avenge the terrible
wrong that's been done to you,

and prevent him from
doing it to anybody else.

- That low rent gigolo.

- Gave my great-grandmother's
ring to another woman.

- Had my Mercedes painted

and gave it to her
for her birthday.

- I just want my coat.

- Look, trust me.

I think we can all work
this thing out together.

- Yes, but you have
to sign complaints

so the DA can prosecute.

- I hope he hangs.

- Too good for him.

Crush his jellies
in a garlic press.

- Ahem. Yeah, well, do
any of you have any idea

of where the authorities
might look for him?

- What's the big mystery?

Stake out the marriage
license bureau.

- It was kind of fun.

We went to this little Hunan
restaurant in Chinatown,

and then we walked
around a little,

and he brought
me back in my car.

- You gonna go
out with him again?

- We're not really going out.

- Oh.

- I mean, Peter's very sweet,

but I'm not really ready
for, you know, dating.

- You mean sex.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think
that's what I mean.

- Well, you're
entitled to take it slow.

- Abby, I need to talk to you.

- It's okay. I'll step out.

- No, no, no. Don't be silly.

- There's a child matching
Eric's general description

in St. Anthony's Hospital.

- How sick?

- This child is dead.

- I got the page a
few minutes ago.

Where's Mrs. Perkins?

- She's over there.

- Mrs. Perkins, I'm
sorry to keep you waiting.

- Let's just do this.

- I'm sorry. I just found out.

The body was already
sent to county morgue.

- What?

- We had no choice, it
being a criminal matter.

- Criminal?

- Child abuse and abandonment.

- Abuse?

- Someone left the boy
in our emergency room.

The place is a zoo
on Saturday night,

so no one even noticed him

until he fell
unconscious on the floor.

I was a doctor on shift,

and, believe me,
I did all I could,

but the boy had been
beaten very badly.

- It couldn't be... Jim
couldn't possibly have...

- Truthfully, I had
too much else to do

to pay attention to his face.

I'm sorry.

- Dr. Hensel, in your opinion,

if Glen Gates had not d*ed

as the result of the
b*llet wounds in March,

how much longer
would he have lived?

- Objection. Speculation.

- I'll allow it.

- I'd say two,
possibly three weeks.

- And could you predict
the manner of death

he had to look forward to?

- Objection. Speculation.

- Once again, I'll allow it.

- Well, it's possible he would
have succumbed to pneumonia,

but more likely
to toxoplasmosis.

- Toxoplasmosis?

- It's a parasitic infection
that att*cks the brain.

It causes fever,
chills, headaches,

and a descending fugue state
referred to as AIDS dementia.

- In layman's terms, it
causes you to lose your mind?

- Yes.

- And is this an
easy, painless death?

- No. The pain would
have been quite severe

as his brain swelled and
became too large for his skull.

He would have lost control
of his bodily functions.

His mind would be gone.

Eventually, his kidneys
and lungs would have failed,

and I would have had to decide

whether to keep him
alive by respirator.

- Would you have done that?

- Not unless his
friends or family insisted.

In my opinion,

it just prolongs the
patient's suffering.

- So, in other words,
what you're saying is

you practice a form of
passive euthanasia all the time?

- Objection.

- Withdraw the
question. Dr. Hensel,

is it possible that Glen
Gates could have recovered?

- AIDS is 100% fatal.

There's no effective
cure at this time.

- Thank you, Doctor.

Nothing further.

- Redirect.

- Doctor, you've testified

that at least three times
prior to Glen Gates' death,

you were able to bring
him out of a medical crises.

- Yes.

- Then isn't there
some likelihood

that if the defendant
had brought Glen in

for medical treatment,

rather than putting a
b*llet through his head,

that you might have been able

to bring him into
remission once again?

- For a very short time, maybe,

but the man was terminally ill.

- Still, it's not inconceivable

that he could have
had a remission

and enjoyed some quality
of life during that time.

- It's not inconceivable, no.

- There's a lot of
encouraging research

being done into the AIDS
treatments, isn't there?

- It's early, but the drug AZT

has shown some
promising results, yes.

- And you do have
hope for a cure someday.

- Yes.

- So isn't it possible
that if Glen Gates' life

had not been cut
short by a b*llet,

a cure may have been found

during the time
that he had left?

- Given the advanced
state of his condition,

it's highly unlikely,
Ms. Van Owen.

But I guess nothing
is impossible.

- But the hospital said
they sent the body here.

- I'm not saying they didn't.

I'm just saying it hasn't been
tagged and catalogued yet,

so I don't know where it is.

- Then I'll go in and
look until I find it.

- I'm afraid I can't
let you do that.

You'll have to
come back tomorrow

when things are
properly sorted out.

- This could be her child.

- I just have to know one
way or the other, please.

- Mrs. Perkins, I sympathize
with your pain, and I'm sorry,

but take a look at my inbox.

I wouldn't even know
where to begin to look

for this particular John Doe.

- How many
four-year-old John Does

could you possibly have?

- You don't really want to know.

Come back tomorrow.

Believe me, if he's here,
he's not going anywhere.

- Arnie, Foster
Troutman's attorney is here.

- All right. Get him in
here and tell Markowitz.

- I already have, and
the attorney isn't a him.

- Mr. Becker.

Lynette Pierce.

- Arnie.

- Arnie.

Almost from the
moment that Mr. Troutman

was taken into custody
at the license bureau,

his furious spouses
have been... thank you...

Calling the DA's office,

demanding prosecution
to the full extent.

- Hell hath no fury like
a dozen wives scorned.

- The DA will not even
talk to me about a deal.

He says this one is going
to be totally by the numbers.

One of his wives, Mrs.
Foster E. Troutman,

is threatening to
go to the "Times."

They're all livid.

What did you say to these women?

- Not much.

Only that as a man who
betrayed their loyalty,

love, and trust,
stole their property,

and made them
unwitting accomplices

to massive tax fraud,

he should be put
away for 2,000 years.

- Well, it worked.
They're like a lynch mob.

- He deserves what he gets.

- Look, gentlemen, you
have a problem and so do I,

and I think we could
help each other.

- I'd like very much to try.

- Talk to this man.

He's prepared to provide full
disclosure on all of his wives,

plus whatever
information you need

in relocating their assets.

He's also prepared
to sign affidavits

absolving these women
of criminal responsibility.

- In return for which?

- Reason with his wives.

Diffuse their emotions.

I'm confident that
I can negotiate him

out of his tax mess and
probably the insurance stuff.

And if you can
feel the wives out

as to the possibility

of dropping the
grand theft charges,

then I can possibly
get Foster a deal

that will spare him

the terrible indignity
of incarceration.

- No, I don't think so.

- I'm not asking
for any promises,

just that you hear him out.

I know that you
will come to believe

that there is no
justice to be served

in sending a decent
fine man to jail.

- Stewart, the man
deserves to be heard.

- I have the names
here of 11 wives.

That's all of 'em, right?

- So far.

- Plus I have a
complete list of assets,

as well as what
you gave to whom.

- Check.

- And then I have
signed statements

absolving all your wives

of tax fraud,
insurance fraud, theft.

- Well, I know
I'm in big trouble

and I'll probably do some time.

- Yeah.
- But I can live with that.

What I can't live with

is none of them
have come to visit me.

- What'd you expect, flowers?

- I know you find this hard
to believe, Mr. Markowitz,

but I love all my wives.

I wanted to make
them happy, that's all,

and nothing makes a
woman happier than marriage.

- Look, with all due
respect, Mr. Troutman,

you're no Cary Grant,
you know what I mean?

What I mean is you're
an average guy, you know,

and you got 11 quite attractive,

very wealthy women to marry you.

Well, I'm just curious how...

- Are you married,
Mr. Markowitz?

- No, no, I'm not.

- In love?

- Oh, yes.

- Well, when was the last time

you took her for a moonlit
boat ride to Catalina?

Or spent a night
in the Bel-Air Hotel?

- Never.

- You've got to make a
woman feel special, loved.

You've got to listen to her.

You've got to take her places

where no one exists
but you and her.

Let me ask you
something truthfully.

This woman of yours,
you really love her?

- Completely.

- I'm going to give you a
gift, you and your lady love.

This gift that I'm
going to give you

I've never shared with anyone

other than the
women that I've loved

because I always felt

that if it fell into
the wrong hands,

it could sexually
enslave a woman.

- What is it?

- The Venus Butterfly.

- The Venus Butterfly?

- That's right, the
Venus Butterfly.

- Hmm.

What is the Venus Butterfly?

- I can't say this out
loud. Come closer.

- I've got more
important things to do

than spend my morning

eyeballing every stiff's
backside, Ms. Beachy,

which is exactly
what I am going to do

if you do not stop giving these
women the runaround here.

Now, what is the story?

- The story, Detective, after
some exhaustive checking,

is that the paperwork
never got processed,

and the body is still back
at St. Anthony's Hospital.

- And it took you the
whole day to find this out?

- Sometimes they
lose them for weeks.

- Mr. Appleton, how long
have you known Glen Gates?

- We met at a
party July 4, 1982.

- And what was the
nature of your relationship?

- We were lovers.

- Would you categorize your
relationship as a casual one?

- No. We loved each
other very much.

We were very
committed to one another.

- You lived together?

- Yes, almost from the start.

- When did you first find
out that Glen had AIDS?

- He was diagnosed
in August of 1985.

- Would you describe
for the court, if you will,

the course of
Mr. Gates' disease?

- In the beginning, we
thought it was just a bad cold.

Weeks went by.

Glen got so weak, he
could hardly stand up.

And, you know, you're
living in a community

that lives in terror.

It's like AIDS is a plague.

You become used to
seeing your friends die.

Somehow you think
it won't happen to you,

but when Glen got sick,
I think we both knew.

- Once he was
diagnosed as having AIDS,

what happened then?

- Basically, he
just deteriorated.

He was in and
out of the hospital.

Toward the end,
he was going blind.

He had periods
when he wasn't lucid.

He was in horrible pain.

- Mr. Appleton, could
you describe for the court,

if you would, what your life
was like as Glen got sicker?

- We couldn't go out in public.

People were physically
repulsed at the sight of him.

He'd lost so much weight,
and his face, his arms,

his whole body were
covered with sores.

We became like lepers.

- And when did you
decide to take his life?

- Oh, we had talked about
it almost from the start.

We had so many friends
who d*ed from AIDS.

We'd heard so
many horror stories.

Glen was not afraid of death.

He couldn't stand the thought

of the inevitable
suffering, loss of his dignity.

He talked a lot about su1c1de.

He hoarded pills for months,

and toward the end,

he tried to k*ll
himself in the hospital.

He was too weak
to get the pills down.

That's when he begged
me to do it for him.

- And you agreed?

- No, not at first.

But then toward the
end, he couldn't bear it.

He was in horrible pain.

- Mr. Appleton, would
you describe for the court,

if you would, Glen Gates'
last few hours of life?

- It was early morning.

I'd fallen asleep in the
chair beside his bed.

Suddenly I woke up,

and I felt like Glen
was really there,

not just physically but
like his mind was there,

and it woke me
and I looked at him.

His head was turned.

He was looking at me
with such sweet sadness.

It was as if all the
fight was out of him.

He was too weak to talk.

He kept falling asleep.

Then it was as if he was
forcing himself to wake up.

I felt like he was
begging me to end it.

I carried him to the bathroom.

He was so light,
like a dying bird.

And I bathed him,
changed his clothes,

and then I got
into bed with him.

I held him in my arms.

I rocked him.

I sang to him.

And then when
he finally fell asleep

like a baby in my arms...

I knew for a certainty

that it was time for
death to have him.

That to let him wake
up to one more day

of pain and sadness and despair

would be a greater crime

than that which I'm
accused of committing.

- And that's when you
ended Glen Gates' life.

- Yes.

- Thank you, Mr. Appleton.

Your witness, Ms. Van Owen.

- Mr. Appleton, is this
your g*n, marked Exhibit A?

- Yes.

- When did you
purchase this w*apon?

- About three weeks
before Glen d*ed.

- Did you get it for
personal protection?

- No.

- Sports sh**ting?
- No.

- Tell us why you did
buy it, Mr. Appleton.

- Glen was in horrible agony.

He didn't want
to live any longer.

- Did you buy this g*n with
the intent to k*ll Mr. Gates?

- I bought it in
case it came to that.

- And is this the w*apon

you in fact did k*ll
Mr. Gates with?

- Yes.

- Thank you.

No more questions, Your Honor.

- There's no disputing
the facts of this case,

ladies and gentlemen.

Christopher
Appleton bought a g*n

and used it to take
the life of Glen Gates.

But what kind of a life was it?

A life of anguish and pain,

loss of dignity, and
a certain cruel death.

Is that a life worth living?

Obviously Glen Gates
himself thought not.

He had already
attempted su1c1de.

You know, when
I was a small boy,

my dog got run
over in the street

and her hip was crushed

and her spine was
all twisted out of shape

and my mother and father
had to have her put to sleep.

It was the humane thing
to do, they taught me.

They taught me that it's
brutally cruel and inhumane

to keep some poor
suffering creature alive

just because the
technology exists to do so.

Why is euthanasia,
mercy k*lling,

why is that more humane
for some poor suffering animal

than for a human being?

Now, some of you may disapprove

of Christopher
Appleton's lifestyle.

Some of you may
have strong feelings

that h*m* is wrong.

Some of you may
think... Some people do...

That AIDS is a punishment
of Biblical proportions

that's visited upon
the gay community.

Ladies and gentlemen,
please, please, I beg of you,

don't judge Christopher
Appleton a criminal

until you've walked
a mile in his shoes.

Thank you.

- Ms. Van Owen.

- I feel sorry for Mr. Appleton,
as I am sure you do.

His pain and suffering

and that of Glen
Gates was very real,

and perhaps
Mr. Gilliam is right.

None of us could
know what it was like

month after torturous month

as Mr. Appleton
watched the man he loved

deteriorate so
cruelly and painfully.

But many of us have
suffered the loss of loved ones

to cancer, heart disease,

and a host of other
lingering diseases

that erode the
body and the will.

And the question is,
should we be allowed

to arbitrarily
terminate a human life

when the quality of that life

is judged to be
not worth living?

And by whose standards do
we measure the quality of life?

Yours?

Mine?

Perhaps Mr. Gilliam's.

Let us draw the distinction

between a criminal
and a criminal act.

I don't believe Chris
Appleton is a criminal,

but, damn it, I have to believe
he committed a criminal act.

And if you let this
criminal act go unpunished,

you will be ignoring the
solemn oath you made as jurors

to uphold the law.

You would in effect be saying

that we are a society not
governed by law, but by anarchy.

Thank you.

- My apologies, Ms.
Perkins, Ms. Kelsey.

- Look, everybody's sorry.
Now, what's the story?

- It took us a while to track
down the mistake, but...

- Did you find him?

- In a manner of speaking, yes.

- What the hell does that mean?

- No excuses, but this is

an understaffed and
overburdened bureaucracy.

- Just tell me.

- We had a black adult John Doe

who was tag number A1497.

The Caucasian child John
Doe was tag number A1447.

I guess the second
four looked like a nine.

Anyway, somehow
the tags got switched.

- Then you have him.

- I'm afraid not.

You see, A1497,
the black John Doe

was scheduled for
cremation. In the mix-up...

- No.

- The baby John Doe
was mistakenly cremated.

- Are you sure?

- Yes.

- Oh, God.

Do you know what this means?

I have a missing child,

and if that little
boy was my son,

then how am I
ever going to know?

- I'm sorry.

- You're sorry?

What for?

To you, they're just
meat, aren't they?

Tag it, ship it.

What the hell, it's just
another body, right?

Well, wrong, lady,

because that little boy
was somebody's child,

and if not mine, then
somebody else's.

But we're never gonna
know that, are we?

And we're never gonna know
that because you screwed up.

You bastards.

First you let him die all alone.

Then you cremated him.

And who is gonna grieve
for him, whoever he is?

Who is gonna grieve
for poor little A1447?

Oh...

- Come on. Let's go.

- All rise.

Be seated.

- Has the jury reached
a verdict, Mr. Foreman?

- We have, Your Honor.

We, the jury, find the defendant

guilty of m*rder
in the first degree.

- The jury is discharged.

The defendant will
remain free on bail

pending probation
and sentencing hearing.

This court is in recess.

- Christopher, you all right?

- Mr. Appleton, I wish to God

there was a way to
uphold the principle

without putting you
through any more pain,

and I will be at the
sentencing hearing

to testify on your behalf.

- She has no
comment at this time.

- Are you okay?

- I just don't want to talk
about it right now, okay?

- Fine.

We better hurry.
We're late for dinner.

- Dinner?

Mickey, it's a quarter to 5:00.

- Yeah, well, by the time

we catch the 5:30
flight to Monterey,

take a cab to the Ventana,

get cleaned up and ready to go,

we'll barely have enough time
to make our 8:30 reservation.

- Thank you.

I love you.

- Mm, we better go. Come on.

- Hi.

- Hi, Stewart.

- I heard about the
screw-up at the hospital.

How's Abby?

- She's spending the
weekend with her mother.

- Poor kid.

- You can't imagine
the horror of it.

It's conceivable that
she may never know

whether that cremated
child was Eric or not.

- It wasn't.

I just don't believe it was.

- From your lips to God's ear.

There's nothing more
you can do, you know.

There's no point
in standing around

depressing yourself even more.

- Make me an offer.

- Well, actually... And
we can always cancel it,

but I booked us a room
tonight at the Bel-Air Hotel.

- Men. You always think
sex will solve every problem.

- Oh, come on,
not every problem.

- Women are different.

I just don't feel like
it tonight, Stewart.

Do you mind terribly?

- No, no, I understand.

So were you planning on getting

something to eat tonight?

- I guess.

- And then were you
planning on, you know,

going to sleep at some point?

- Yes.

- Well, you'll do
both those things,

except at the
Bel-Air Hotel with me.

And, you know, sex is
no big deal with me either.

- Stewart?
- Mm-hmm.

- Tell me the truth.
- Okay.

- Have you been
seeing another woman?

No, of course not.

- Then where the
hell did you learn that?

- You mean the Venus Butterfly?

- The Venus...
- Venus Butterfly.

- Stewart, I'm no prude.

I like sex.

I especially like it with you.

But I'm 36 years old,
and I have never...

I mean, never in my entire life

ever experienced anything
like the Venus Butterfly.

- Well, I'm glad you liked it.

Liked it?

- It was the closest thing
I have ever experienced

to pure ecstasy.

I almost fainted.

Actually, I think
there was a moment

when I really blacked out.

- Mm-hmm.

- I mean, the blood just
rushed right out of my brain

to my... other places.

- Mm-hmm.

I'm gonna tell you something.

I will never share
the Venus Butterfly

with any other woman
as long as I live.

- You better not.

Stewart?
- Mm-hmm.

- Can I ask you a favor?

- Anything.

- Do you think...

I mean, if you're not
too, you know, tired...

You could maybe do it again?

- Yeah. Yeah, I'm up for it.

I have to see if I can still
get room service, though.

- Call quickly.

- Right.
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