And what's even more amazing is he billed it at .8

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5017041&forum_id=2#44298851)

Chuck McGill remains stoic, a slight nod his only acknowledgment of the standing ovation. His silver hair gleams under the fluorescent lights, and his presence seems to draw the room's energy into a singular, magnetic force. Even the bailiff, a grizzled veteran of countless trials, seems moved, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

Suddenly, a loud thud echoes through the chamber. A fellow attorney, younger and foolish, stands up and slams his briefcase down. “Objection, Your Honor!” he shouts, his voice wavering. “This is a courtroom, not a theater! We’re here for justice, not a sideshow!”

The judge, barely concealing his disdain, glances at the insolent interloper. “Order, Mr. Finklestein. You are in the presence of greatness. Sit down or be removed.”

Chuck turns, his eyes meeting Finklestein's with an intensity that could melt steel. “Ah, Mr. Finklestein,” he murmurs, a small, amused smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Still struggling with the basics of courtroom decorum, I see. I understand. Not all of us were blessed with… aptitude.” The courtroom titters. Finklestein, beet-red and quaking with rage, collapses back into his chair, defeated before even saying a word.

Chuck strides forward, adjusting his tie with a casual grace that suggests he's orchestrating a symphony, not preparing for a legal battle. The audience watches, transfixed, as he reaches into his briefcase. He retrieves a single sheet of paper and holds it aloft, like Moses presenting the commandments.

“This,” Chuck intones, “is my opening statement.” He pauses for dramatic effect, letting the weight of his words sink in. “And it is only three sentences long.” Gasps ripple through the crowd. Somewhere in the back, a young associate faints, overwhelmed by the audacity.

Chuck’s voice booms through the courtroom like a cathedral bell, “Justice is not a game. It is not a weapon. It is an ideal—a sword, yes, but also a shield, and I intend to wield both in the pursuit of truth.”

Then, with a voice that could silence a storm, he declares, “The Law is Sacred!” The words strike like a hammer blow, resonating in every corner of the room. The audience collectively inhales, a shared intake of breath, as if they've been struck by the profundity of the statement. “It is the foundation upon which this great society stands. It is the guiding light that leads us out of darkness.”

Silence follows. You could hear a pin drop, or perhaps the sound of a junior associate’s knees buckling as he leans against a bench for support. The judge is visibly trembling now, his gavel trembling in his hand like he’s holding Excalibur itself. “Mr. McGill… I… I think we can adjourn for today,” he stammers, his voice a mixture of reverence and fear.

But Chuck isn’t done. He leans forward, just enough to bring the whole courtroom in with him, as if sharing a secret. “Oh no, Your Honor,” he whispers. “We begin… now.”

And with that, he slams his briefcase shut so hard it echoes like a gunshot. The entire audience, unable to contain themselves any longer, erupts once more, louder than before, chanting in unison: “Long live Chuck McGill! Long live the Empire of Law!”

As the chaos builds, a lone figure stands at the back. It's Jimmy, watching his brother with a mix of admiration, resentment, and something else. “Goddamn you, Chuck,” he mutters under his breath, "They’ll never know what you really are."

Chuck, sensing his brother’s gaze, turns ever so slightly and gives a small wink. The courtroom is his stage, and today he’s put on a hell of a show.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5017041&forum_id=2#48097133)

Before Chuck can respond, Howard says "So there have been some revisions to the partnership agreement. We're going towards origination, Chuck. I know it's not how we left things, but it was unanimous, Chuck. You could have vetoed this, but you didn't attend the vote. This is hard, but, Chuck, this is your annual draw going forward."

*Howard slides Chuck a doodle of a hairy cock and balls*

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5017041&forum_id=2#43853631)

I see that dynamic when Flagstaff clients "go down the hill," as they say, to Phoenix for lawyers to slaughter the hometown boys.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5017041&forum_id=2#44403811)