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| Photo:Nicole Wilder/AMC |
"If you wouldn't stop at every cubicle to chat..."
"It's called being friendly, it's great for morale."
"It's called wasting time."
Their jobs may have changed, but Kim and Jimmy's dynamic has largely remained the same. "Piñata" continues Jimmy's downward spiral into Goodmandom, and treats us to another flashback, taking us back to he and Kim's days in HHM's mailroom. While Jimmy's main priority is the office Oscar pool, Kim has been following Issacson v. Vakarian Holdings Inc., the reason behind the applause that greets a smiling, faux-modest Chuck as he comes into the office. As Kim runs down the details of the legal battle, Jimmy's eyes practically glaze over before he asks her to give him the big picture.
"Chuck won a case that Howard thought was unwinnable using only the power of obscure case law," she gushes as Chuck saunters over. As Kim excitedly talks shop and Jimmy mistakes Issacson for the defendant, Chuck is only slightly condescending as he bids them adieu, and Kim returns to her cart duties. The scene reveals the difference in what drives them: while Kim is propelled by genuine love of the law, Jimmy is driven by a quest for money, power, and most importantly, respect. For him the details have always mattered less than the results.
That penchant for cutting corners may be at least part of the reason why, after pulling another all-nighter working on Mesa Verde documents, Kim's face almost curdles into a grimace when she sees the logos Jimmy has drawn up for Wexler-McGill. It doesn't help he's once again backed off from seeing a shrink, deeming it self-indulgent. "I don't think that navel gazing is going to get me where I need to be," he explains to Kim over breakfast.
"You have to do what's best for you," she replies, then proceeds to take her own advice, heading over to Schweikart and Cokely, who once offered her a job, to ask if they're interested in having a banking division. As she explains to Jimmy over lunch, going to S&C as a partner will give her tons of help with Mesa Verde, while freeing her up to more pro bono public defender work. "I'm helping people," she says, an action that's becoming increasingly unimportant in Jimmy's mind.
Jimmy leaves the table and stands by the restaurant's kitchen, looking absolutely gobsmacked. His expression could be interpreted in a number of ways. Does he feel betrayed Kim would go work for a man who once sought a restraining order against him? Saddened that on some level his girlfriend may believe, like Chuck, he is not a man who respects the law and thus not someone she wants to build a law firm with? If the latter is the case, should we take his reiteration of Kim's advice--"you gotta do what's best for you--as one brimming with the same "I'll show you" resentment he harbored toward Chuck? Or maybe, like when he watched a video of the commerical he filmed with the now deceased Mrs. Strauss, he was allowing allowing himself a moment to mourn a road not taken (or a scam not carried out, as he really wanted his former client's Hummel), then plotting his next move.
Say what you will about Jimmy, but he's not one to wallow, a trait he berates Howard for having when visiting HHM's office to collect his inheritance. HHM has fallen on hard times, both because of the payout to Chuck's estate and because the firm's reputation is not exactly golden anymore. When Howard can't say what the plan is to bring HHM back from the brink, Jimmy goes off, ridiculing what he views as extended self pity. "You're a shitty lawyer Howard. But you're a great salesman. So go out there and sell."
"Fuck you Jimmy," Howard barks. "There you go Howard, use that," he quips. This motivational speech has been brought to you by the James McGill and the Get Your Shit Together Foundation.
Meanwhile, Gus and Mike are prepping for the arrival of Werner's crew, going over security measures and perks that include a bar, recliners, a foosball table and a basketball goal. Mike heads to Stacy's house, where he apologizes for outing Henry as a charlatan in group therapy. She gently encourages him to move beyond his grief, and agrees to let him pick up Kaylee the next day. If we didn't already know where this was all going, it might be heartening to see Mike make amends and try to maintain a relationship with his daughter-in-law, but since we do, it comes off more as a wistful detour.
Though if anyone needs to lay back on a couch, it's Gus. After being informed Hector has gotten a potentially fatal infection, he pays him a visit. In a sinister twist on the specialist's suggestion that talking to Hector will speed up his recovery, Gus decides to tell a story from his childhood about a long barren Lucuma tree that finally bore fruit. After realizing some fruit had been taken, Gus suspects a coati is the culprit. He fails to capture the animal the first time but succeeds in wounding it, waiting until nightfall to try again, despite his brothers' calls to come inside. "I caught it. It fought me. But I was stronger. The merciful thing would've been to kill it. I kept it. It lived for quite some time. I believe you will wake Hector." Sheesh, talk about a dour beside manner.
As for Jimmy, he's using his inheritance to buy a shit ton of cell phones and store them at his office in the back of the nail salon. Later, he goes back to the kids who robbed him to strike a deal: $100 a night for protection. They aren't interested, as one of them whips out a switchblade and they begin chasing him up the street. But Jimmy has called in reinforcements, two masked goons (one of whom turns out to be Huell Babineaux, making a second BCS appearance) who hang the teens upside down and scare them straight by smashing the pinatas around them. Jimmy pushes the terror to the limit, even after getting the promise of protection.
"You get one warning, and that's it," he says, dropping the bat and leaving them literally hanging. Another step to the bad side.
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