SAUL: Which brings us to these three. Now these three knuckleheads, and I’m sorry boys but that’s what you are, they did a dumb thing. I’m not denying that. However I would like you to remember two salient facts. Fact 1: nobody got hurt! Not a soul! Very important to keep that in mind. Fact 2: now the prosecution keeps dangling this term “criminal trespass”. Mr. Spinazo, property owner, admitted to us that he keeps most portions of his business open to the public - both day and night. So trespassing? Bit of a reach, don’t you think Dave?

Close up on the prosecutor not looking amused.

SAUL: Here’s what I know. These three young men, near honor students, were feeling their oats one Saturday night and they just went a little bananas. I don’t know, call me crazy, but I don’t think they deserve to have their bright futures ruined by a momentary, minute (points at the three boys) never to be repeated, lapse of judgement. Ladies and gentleman...you’re bigger than that.

Saul takes his seat next to the three boys who seem impressed with his defense. The prosecutor gets up without saying a word and puts a tape into the VCR on the courtroom’s TV. The screen shows the three boys cutting the head off of a dead body being used for a biology class as they brag about it and laugh into the camera. Members of the court begin walking out.

BOY 1: Stick your wang in the throat hole!

BOY 2: I will if you will, loser!

EXT. COURTROOM

Close-up on a check written out to James M. McGill for $700

SAUL: What the hell kind of math is that?

LADY: $700 per defense.

SAUL: No no no. Defen—dant. Dant. 3 defendants, $2,100. Which, by the way, a bargain for what I did for them.

LADY: They going to jail, ain’t they?

SAUL: So, since when does that matter? They had sex with a head!
LADY: Didn’t somebody tell you not to try all three of them together? 1 trial, $700!

SAUL: You’re gonna miss me, you are gonna miss me, cause it’ll be a cold day in hell before I do any PD work for this ♥♥♥♥♥♥ court! Sayonara, baby!

LADY: You have yourself a nice day.

EXT. PARKING LOT

Saul storms by a white Cadillac to get into a beaten down yellow Suzuki Esteem with one red door. His phone rings.

SAUL (speaking as an Irish woman): Law offices of James McGill, how may I direct your call?...Yes, Mrs. Kettleman, so good of you to return!...Actually I don’t have Mr. McGill at the moment, but I know he...Oh, splendid. Unfortunately our office is being painted, and the fumes are quite horrid, could he meet you and your husband at, say, Loyola’s café at Central?...4 o’clock it shall be, cheers!