Eli tentatively knocks on Jordan's door, addressing him as "Mr. Weathersby" and asking if he was looking for him. Jordan bites out something about the termination of their relationship and the non-craving of the conversation on his part, but he understands that Eli's been retained by..."Who was it again? George Michael, the pop superstar?" Heh. Work that blasé attitude while you can, FanboyNumberOne. Side note, before we get to the good stuff: As much as I enjoyed the episode, would it not have been interesting to see Taylor's reaction to the news that the real George Michael showed up in Eli's life? (And not have had Nate completely ignore the same revelation?) They'd have to rethink things then, no? Anyway, Jordan cites some bylaw of the firm that says a partner has to oversee any case where the client has a high public profile. Surprisingly, Eli doesn't point out that the firm didn't follow that rule in Turk's case, as Jordan only came into the fray very late in that game, opting instead to note that George isn't actually the client in this case -- the girl is. Jordan, however, isn't interested in such technicalities, so Eli welcomes him to the case, using his, as Keckler so artfully pointed out, "Ferris Bueller meets Vince Vaughn" accent to inform Jordan that their client's name is "Molly Rogers." (Seriously, listen to Matthew Broderick say "Are you suggesting that I'm not who I say I am?" to the snooty maitre d' in that movie and tell me it doesn't sound awfully familiar.)
Crusty Cancer Judge leads Matt and Taylor into his office, complaining that he asked Jordan for his best lawyers and he sent him a girl. Matt tries to score a point by introducing CCJ to "Mr. Weathersby's daughter," but CCJ snits, "I wasn't talking about her, Dowd." Don't be too hard on him -- maybe his sense of humor is located in his bone marrow. CCJ admits that there's no precedent in their favor and the case is a real long shot, but given that he's dying, he doesn't really see much in the way of alternative options. Taylor says that usually only family members are an exact match for bone-marrow transplants (I feel obligated to note that according to an expert in the forums, this is misleading -- siblings are often a good match, but children aren't, because half their DNA comes from the other parent) and CCJ confirms that the marrow welsher is his son, who was two when his mother and CCJ divorced. "I haven't seen Scott since then." Matt incredulously confirms that the settlement conference they have in an hour is going the be the first time CCJ has seen his son in nineteen years, while Taylor tries to figure out how they're going to make small talk for sixty minutes. At least they're billable.