Judging Amy
Near Death Experience

Episode Report Card
Jessica: D | Grade It Now!
Near Death Experience

This recap is brought to you by Hooper's Hoochâ„¢ -- a sparkling malt beverage with lemon and other natural flavors. God bless it.

No preamble -- we're right smack dab in the middle of the Halls of Justice. A young couple divorced five months ago, in the midst of the wife's pregnancy, is already arguing about their five-day-old son. Why, you ask? Could it be custody-related? In the shock of the century, it's not. But it is about the favorite subject of another writer of jurisprudence-related dramas, David E. Kelley: Penises. Yup, CBS sure is pushing the envelope with all the penises and beer they've managed to squeeze into Judging Amy recently. It's like I'm watching FOX! Anyhoo, Mr. Vocci wants to circumcise his son. Mrs. Vocci doesn't. He says it's a matter of religion; she says he's "not Jewish" and calls circumsision "mutilation." Bruce is already rolling his eyes. Word, Bruce. Want some Hooch? It helps. Amy tells them to go home and work it out. Mrs. Vocci says the word "foreskin." Bruce and Amy both try not to laugh. If they can't behave, I'm going to have to separate them.

Vincent strides purposefully out of the grocery store, bags in hand. He notices a creepy guy harassing a young woman a few cars down (okay, kids, pay attention here; this episode is a rerun. The girl being harassed is the same girl Vincent was pawing in last week's episode. This is the episode where they Meet Violent. For purposes of continuity, and because the Hooch is hitting me, I'm going to continue to call her The (Future) Girlfriend. Okay?). Vincent gives the Creep the stink-eye, as The (Future) Girlfriend tries to extricate herself from his creepy clutches. Vincent tells the Creep to get "[his] hands off her!" and the Creep whips out a gun and opens fire. He's holding the gun sideways, like he's in Reservoir Dogs or something. Damn trendy purse-snatchers. Vincent throws his arms up and hits the ground in slo-mo, as the Creep grabs The (Future) Girlfriend's purse and scrams in what looks like a 1982 Wagoneer. Slick wheels, dude. Vincent, who appears basically unhurt, plucks himself off the ground and goes to check on The (Future) Girlfriend. She's crying, but generally okay. Vincent picks her up and dusts her off and dries her sweet little tears and tells her that she's bleeding. "I am?" The (Future) Girlfriend says. "No," she continues, "it's you!" Vincent opens his jacket to reveal a big bloody splotch. He starts to breathe harder and we are revisited by the Slo-Mo cam. "Oh my God," Vincent gasps, "I think he shot me." Ya think?

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Judging Amy




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