The trio power-plods through the hall. "You've got the pleadings?" Clare says, pleased with how official that sounded. "You're not going to take the eunuch's head off?" Sarah asks. "I will speak firmly, but under control," Lynne resolves. She thanks them for letting her vent. She loves her club pals. She is about to thank them for being such good girly pals in a nasty man's world, but mercifully, Sarah offers up that they're her "whipping posts," and there's merriment. They all walk purposefully, and they've all been given folders and binders as props so that they look busy and important. I should run this props department. I am the master of haphazard paperwork and colorful dividers.

A smarmy balding man named Spencer intercepts this little pedeconference and grabs Clare. "Hey girls," he oozes. See? See how the bad man marginalizes them? No, wait, so does the show's title. Never mind. He tells Clare he needs her to cover a deposition. "I can be there, but I need you to do it," he says. He hands her a file on a medical malpractice suit being filed by the sister of partner Phil Warrick. He tells her to flesh out their argument, and the plaintiff is waiting in her office right now. Clare's all, "Wuh?" Spencer shrugs. "Sorry," he lies. "Prep her and I'll see you tomorrow at 11." Clare stares at the file in her arms. "Excuse me," she coughs. "Is there a reason you can't do it?" Pause. Silence. Lynne and Sarah swap "Wow, check out the nads on that ho" looks. Spencer puts his hands in his pockets so that he won't grab her breasts in ire. "Like Phil, I too am a partner in this firm," he exposits. "And I've assigned the matter to an associate. That reason acceptable to you, [Clare]?" She nods. Spencer walks away. Cue more Dead Fred, still crooning about pressure. The three girls all do that thing where they pretend they're just rubbing their noses, but they happen to be using their middle fingers. Spencer, sadly, can't feel the scathing Club Estrogen birds poking him in the ass.

"Miss Mickle," brays an older woman's voice. The girls whirl around and drop the birdies. The older woman sneers at them with the derision of a woman who detests all things pert. Those are, it seems, the kinds of women in power at law firms. The woman, Meredith, smarms that she read Sarah's brief and they should discuss it in her office shortly. Dead Fred wails. Dead Fred has a bad feeling about this, and in my experience, one should never ignore Dead Fred. "I think she likes it," lies Clare as Meredith walks away. "I'm getting fired," Sarah groans. Lynne tries to play it off, but they all know Sarah is completely busted. Sarah again repeats that she's getting fired. That would be kind of a nice twist in the pilot, actually. Fire her, old Meredith!