OJ is in jail reminiscing about his wild days at the club, which included Soul Train lines, excessive pelvis thrusting, and lots of coke and champagne. Across town at Shapiro’s office, Johnnie and his associates are being introduced to the dream team. It’s me of his male associate Carl Douglas looks like an older Ludacris?  The attorneys are eating lox and white fish, on OJ’s dime, of course.

Shapiro starts the meeting by asking, “Who thinks OJ did it?” Everyone looks appalled. “Me neither, “Shapiro says.