[In a flashback, Jimmy enters Chuck's house in the middle of the night with several bags in his hands]
Did you ground yourself?
Yes, I did! Oh, crap!
[Jimmy trips over his own feet offscreen and begins gathering the supplies]
I was starting to worry.
My car conked out on the 40. I almost got creamed by a cement truck! [lays out groceries on the table] Oh, um... They had those apples that you like. I got you half a dozen Fuji. And the newsstand on Central said they might start carrying the Financial Times, so that's good, right?
[Chuck stares with a mixture of disbelief and pride as Jimmy sorts everything out]
What?
You know I could hire someone to do this. I could get someone from the office...
I'm doing it.
Yeah? Every day? While you're trying to start a... practice? Why?
"Why?" 'Cause you're my brother, duh. You'd do the same for me.
Hmm. Well, you could stay for a while. We could talk.
Talk? What about?
Well, your cases, your clients?
You wanna talk about my clients? Uh, seriously? You wanna talk about the granny who got picked up for soliciting inside a Christian Science Reading Room? Uh, what about the kid who broke into a liquor store and drank five bottles of créme de menthe and passed out behind the counter?
They deserve a vigorous defense, like any other client.
...Or maybe you just wanna tell me what I'm doing wrong.
That's not what I had in mind!
[Jimmy goes back to setting the supplies and lays out the ice]
I'm hoping you didn't steal that from the hotel ice machine.
You can hope! I'm gonna take a pass on the heart-to-heart, Chuck. One of my "deserving clients"... He got caught waving the weenie outside a Hobby Lobby.
[moves to get his wallet] Well, hold on, you gotta reimburse yourself.
Mmm-mmm, this one's on me.
Jimmy, if you don't like where you're heading, there's no shame in going back and changing your path.
Uh, when have you ever changed your path? [shrugs and chuckles when Chuck doesn't respond] Hey. Think on it.
We always end up having the same conversation, don't we?
I'll see you tomorrow, Chuck. And I might have the Financial Times!
[Chuck stares a while, then picks up his copy of The Time Machine and his lantern before walking into the darkness.]
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