Runaway Jury Page #6

check out what's going on with lunch?

Good idea, Nick. Go see what's taking 'em.

So they go over there

and he sees a cow

and he sees a golf ball

up in that cow's ass.

And he says - well, this is delicate -

"Excuse me, ma'am. "

And he raises that cow's tail and says,

"Does this look like yours?"

And she hit him with a four-iron!

- Excuse me, Judge.

- Huh?

- There's someone to see you.

- All right, all right.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

- You are?

- Nick Easter, juror number nine.

Yes. Now, what do you think

you're doing outside of that jury room,

Mr. Easter-juror-number nine?

And where's Lou Dell?

- She's chattin' it up in the hallway, sir.

- Well, Mr. Easter,

I would strongly advise you to return

to that jury room and finish your lunch.

That's the problem, sir.

I think somebody forgot to order our lunch.

- The jury has no lunch?

- That's why I'm here, sir.

Everybody knows you here in the parish.

They know you like to

keep a tight schedule on your bench.

If we're gonna be back

in less than 45 minutes...

I gotta be honest with you, sir.

We're hungry.

Well, what exactly,

Mr. Easter, would you like me to do?

Hey, Lonnie, Lonnie!

Could you pass me some garlic bread?

- You got any over there?

- Oh, absolutely, man. Stuff is delicious.

I'm not sure, but I believe

I'm buying lunch for this jury.

Jury's right there.

Well, in 35 years, that is

the most absurd thing I've ever seen.

- You got a little mustard on your tie.

- I did it on purpose.

First day of the trial, judge is having lunch

with the jury. What's that about?

- Look at that.

- What?

Let's go.

- Hey, hey, hey! To Nick!

- To Nick!

- This is horseshit.

- It wasn't me.

It wasn't me. It was Judge Harkin.

Judge Harkin!

OK, that's enough.

Thank you very much. All right.

- Here's the deposition you needed.

- Thank you, thank you.

We gonna talk about this?

I cannot believe you had the nerve

to bring that in this office.

- I think we ought to discuss it at least.

- Well, a better idea:

- Why don't you just give it to the judge?

- 'Cause they'd throw the case out.

Let me explain something to you.

That's a defense tactic, OK?

All it's meant to do

is just throw our focus off,

so that we can just move toward a mistrial.

But I'd really like it out of the office,

so give it to me, please.

Barry, after you shred it, burn it. OK?

You know how many of

those crank things I get?

What if it's for real?

- No, it's not for real.

- What if it is?

Well, if it's for real, then this isn't a trial,

is it? Then this is just an auction,

and I might as well get on this phone here

and call up all those anti-gun activist

friends of mine in Washington

and tell 'em we're just gonna put on

a telethon and we will buy this verdict.

'Cause they're not gonna

think of that, are they?

Somebody wanna get that phone?

You got any other suggestions?

Well, look at it.

Syntax, handwriting, word choice.

Clearly a woman did the note.

Someone's working the inside. A juror.

Miss Monroe, I think seven hours

spent on this topic is sufficient.

- Can we agree?

- Mr. Fitch, I got a call for you.

Line seven.

- Yes.

- Hello, Rankin.

I'm the agent handling the property

you were notified about earlier today.

- I'd like to know who I'm speaking with.

- You can call me Marlee.

Pay phone, 15 miles away.

- You can call me Marlee.

- Where are we going with this, Marlee?

All the way to the verdict.

The fact is, the jury's mine,

and I can push it either way. For a price.

Sounds good. So good,

in fact, I don't believe you can do it.

I'll bet you're old enough

to remember a time

when people delivered on what

they promised. I'm one of those people.

I'm also old enough to remember

Watergate, Abscam, Linda Tripp...

...and a whole bunch of other times

people got entrapped

for engaging in conversations

just like this, and you'd do very good

to remember that, young lady.

There are consequences.

Well, let me worry about those.

For now, I just hope you're feeling patriotic.

- You hope I'm feeling...

- Patriotic?

- Morning, Nick.

- Morning, Lou.

- Good morning, Vanessa.

- Morning.

- Nick.

- Hey, guys.

- How you doin'?

- What's up?

OK.

- Hey, Lonnie, Sylvia.

- Hey, man.

Good morning, Frank.

Frank, you were in Panama

and Grenada, right?

- And Beirut.

- Wow.

That really must've been something, huh?

Yeah. Pulling the bodies

of friends of mine out of the rubble.

- It was really something, Nick.

- No, no, no, no. You don't understand.

I had a friend who was in Desert Storm.

He was in the Corps, too.

- What division?

- The 1-4 out of Pendleton.

Yeah, well, that was mostly air power.

Not much real action down there anyhow.

Actually, there was, Frank.

You don't know what the hell

you're talking about, Easter.

My friend's name was Donny Rabbs,

and his helicopter was shot down

in a Kuwaiti oil field.

He was killed 12 years ago today.

- Sorry to hear that.

- I'm sorry. It's just a strange day.

I always figure, if I don't remember

him today, nobody else will.

That's the way people are. Short

memories.

That's a terrible thing, y'all,

but we don't always know God's plan.

Listen, I don't know if it'd be inappropriate,

but do you think we could

do something today to remember him?

- We could say the Lord's Prayer.

- Well, I don't wanna ask people to pray.

- How about "God Bless America"?

- I couldn't ask people to sing.

- I don't sing.

- I don't sing, OK?

You know what? I have an idea.

Good morning.

You may take your seats, please.

I pledge allegiance

to the flag of the United States of America

and to the republic for which it stands,

one nation under God, indivisible,

with liberty and justice for all.

I don't know about you, Wendall,

but I'm feeling pretty patriotic.

Uh, thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

Will you please take your seats?

Jesus.

Sh*t.

Pull!

You wanted to see me?

Mr. Cable called me last night

in a bit of a panic.

Now, he's concerned that someone's

trying to monkey with our jury.

As am I. As are my associates.

- Who is it?

- It's a parlor game.

Just because somebody

can influence where a jury has lunch,

that doesn't mean

they can hand us the verdict.

Ah, well, you see, Mr. Fitch,

this is where I get a little confused,

because I was under the impression

that we had already

purchased ourselves a verdict.

You know what I love best about this gun?

Though it's 70 years old, it's just

as reliable as the day it was made.

Mr. Fitch!

You find out who it is, will you?

Pull!

...one nation under God...

At some point, everyone on the jury

acknowledges Herrera,

like they're doing it for him.

It's not him. Right here at the end,

Loreen Duke, our juror number 10...

Right there. Freeze there.

Yeah. Tighten in on her left hand.

Right there.

Isn't that sweet?

Nicholas Easter,

our song and dance man, has an agenda.

Mr. Lamb, how did this confidence man

crash my jury pool?

I don't know. I'd-I'd need some time, sir.

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