technically not karma

Paul S. Washington, defense attorney, is having the worst day.

He got the case referred to him by a New York firm that sometimes deals with his when they need to work on interests that involve or take place in Washington State. This qualifies - dad knocks around his kid a little, kid gets fed up even though he could have moved out months ago if he'd get off his ass and find a job instead of complaining, dad is offering a very nice hourly rate. So far so good.

His coffee maker breaks. He has instant instead, but burns his hand when he drinks it. A car alarm within earshot seems to be going off every six minutes. His car starts fine, and then strands him in the middle of the highway. His cell dies halfway through the call to AAA, and he sits there waiting for them to find him based on which highway he's on without any further details. Eventually they do, he borrows the driver's cell to call a cab, the cab takes an hour to get there, the cabbie gets lost and still charges him for the full distance driven, and finally he's at the police station in Forks - a little nowhere town - to talk to his client, but not before he trips gracelessly over the threshold and nearly breaks his nose.

Ugh.

It had better be a very nice hourly rate.

be as you aren't to make them feel as they ought

Lucinda Daly, prosecutor, wants to talk to her plaintiff. He's a little hard to find, but a few phone calls get her on the phone with Charlie, who suggests that Laney might be at his house, as he's friends with his daughter. Lucinda offers to come by when Charlie's home, but Charlie says she can go over now if she likes; a friend of the family she might want to talk to anyway is an adult presence there.

Lucinda pulls into the driveway and rings the doorbell.

all rise

No plea bargain is struck. The jury is picked, and Lucinda asks a few random ones whether they have accepted bribes and sees who looks nervous: no one, as it turns out, so she strikes people who are too young to have children and one fellow who looks like he hates the entire world for her picks. Paul strikes a grandmotherly type and someone who admits when asked that they don't think much of rich people.

"All rise," comes the command as Judge Roberts walks in.