Receptionist: When's the last time somebody told you to diet?
Ally: Well, I...I don't think we need to get personal.
Receptionist: Tsk, I hate it when thin people think they know what we go through.
Ally: I didn't...
Receptionist: Just because their butt is a tad big, they think they know what it's like to have a weight problem.
Ally: I didn't...I duh My butt is not a tad big.
Receptionist: If it were, should you be fired for it?
Ally: That's not the point.
Receptionist: What is the point?
Ally: I have contour.
Judge Walsh: Ms. McBeal
Ally: Let me see your ass.
Judge Walsh: Ms. McBeal.
Why did the receptionist say that stuff about thin people knowing what fat people go through? It didn't even make sense. Is this woman supposed to be fat, or five pounds overweight? I can't tell. I hope David E. Kelley doesn't think that he's settling any scores with this subplot. The receptionist's mouth was full of red herrings and nonsense. I guess I'd rather see that than napkins and pencils, though. Ally does her little rapid-fire-spitting-of-words thing and asks the receptionist, whose name is suddenly Ms. Pipp, if she believes that people are often judged on looks. Ms. Pipp believes that it happens all the time. Ally asks if it's possible, then, that people would judge a company on the way its receptionist looks. Ms. Pipp is silenced by Ally's sharp legal eagle-ry. I hope, for Ally's sake, that Judge Walsh doesn't decide the case based on the way she looks.
In the Fish & Cage lobby, Ling offers to hook Nelle up with a dance instructor she knows named Sam Adams. There are a couple of lame jokes about dead presidents and beer, and the conclusion is that Nelle still doesn't want to enter the contest.