"I'm not arguing with the shock and anxiety," Connor confessed. "It's just... I've never -- I've never felt like this before. I don't even know how to explain it to you, because it's so fucking... Intense. Intense is a good word." He wasn't usually so bad at putting words to things, and he usually wasn't so... So... So like this. He wanted nothing more than to just be able to forget what had happened, and in all honesty, there was a huge part of him that really did want to take more of the Valium than he should. "I'll try and give you a heads up on that," Connor replied, trying like hell to smile and just not having it eventuate. "It's not my fault that you did that thing with my balls and made me lose focus," he added, needing some sort of levity here to cling to.

"It's supposed to be. The laws themselves are black and white, but there's a million and one ways to work around them. But you're right. I've seen Ms. Keating get people off when I knew they did it... They were guiltier than hell. She's brilliant. But you're right. We're not big fans of any information we can't readily get our hands on... At least any information that helps our case." He paused, trying to control his urge to start that full-on hysterical laughing again. "If being a criminal makes me a good attorney, I should be the best damn attorney out there. I'm like a gold star crim at this point." He nodded slowly at Chase, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the car with the Valium still clutch in one hand. "I want to get drunk. Really, really fucking drunk. Permanently."