We're now in the courtroom, where Molly is pretending to be Ed's assistant. Ahhhh...this is what she meant by not being outnumbered four-to-one. She's so large and in charge that she counts as three people. I gotcha, Molls. The big-city lawyers make a few cracks about Ed's new office. Molly quickly interjects that the reason the law practice is in a bowling alley is to house all the lawyers in his firm. I do not believe in violence against women, but I'm shell-shocked that Ed just didn't backhand the cow at that point.
Suddenly, Ed's three bowling alley employees appear, dressed in their Sunday best, acting like lawyers. One of the big-city lawyers looks at Phil and says, "You look familiar...Stanford Law?" Phil says, "No. Philip Stubbs." Man...it still made me laugh my ass off just typing in that line. This Phil is a comedic genius. The lawyer says, "No, I meant..." and Phil cuts him off by saying, "I know what you meant, Hot Shot, I was just trying to underhand you by making you think I was dumber than I actually am." Meanwhile, I'm busy cleaning spewed schnapps off the television.
We then pay Mike a visit at his job at Dr. Jerome's office. Which reminds me...we haven't seen the cantankerous curmudgeon Jerome since episode one. He was on par with Phil for being my favorite character, and we haven't seen him since. C'mon NBC...don't make me start a letter-writing campaign for Dr. Jerome. You have no idea how powerful the Pittster can be. Or what fine penmanship I possess, either. Anywhoo...Mike has an elderly patient in his office. "What seems to be your problem?" Mike asks the old guy. "I ate a bad hot dog," the man replies. "Ahhh...food poisoning," Mike quickly deducts. "No...the bun was stale...it was a bad hot dog," the man affirms. "Why are you here then?" Mike asks. "For the company," the old guy shoots back. Seriously...it was a very funny exchange. Nancy calls while Mike is staring at the old guy, dumbfounded. Nancy forces Mike to agree to start switching off nights to take care of the demon child they have spawned. Mike agrees like a good husband and hangs up. He stares at the old man and says, "Well...while you're here, how about a throat culture?" The old man gives it a moment's thought and says, "Sure. What the hell?"
Back in court, the judge announces that since Mr. $100 Million doesn't have the time to waste on this lawsuit, he will assign the case an immediate trial date. IN YOUR FACE, CORPORATE AMERICA!!! SMALL TOWN JUDGES ARE ON OUR SIDE NOW, BABY!!!