Welcome to the courthouse, the storied halls of bustice...er, "justice." Lynne's hair is blowing in the breeze, because it can. She stops the DA outside the building, and it turns out Felicity Huffman from Sports Night is slumming it today. She has a horrible short haircut and would appear to be either aging badly, or letting the makeup people commit atrocities of war paint on her face. "If you have a problem with my conduct, I'd appreciate you coming to me directly," sneers Lynne. Felicity snorts. "If I could be older and wiser for a moment..." "You could be older," Lynne brats. Okay, hee. Dammit. I need to bathe. Felicity says she's seen Lynne and Noel interact and she can tell they have chemistry, except she's on crack, because Noel wouldn't have chemistry with a chemistry set, so whatever, Felicity. Lynne swears she's not involved with her client. "The fact that you won't entertain manslaughter..." Lynne interrupts that she believes in Noel's innocence. Felicity points out that he at least has a psychological deficit, then, since he was apparently obsessed with the murder victim. "Fine," Lynne snaps. "Reduce the charge to 'psychological deficit,' and I'll consider a plea." Felicity smirks and warns her to be careful, because she's a girl, and the Halls of Bustice eat girls for lunch. Lynne bites her lip.
Meredith hates Sarah's brief. "The object isn't to convince the judge that you secretly desire to be Yeats," she sneers. Sarah has taken off her glasses, the better to cock an overplucked eyebrow at her boss's rants. Meredith haughtily tells her to revisit her style manual and then "read Ms. Clifford's portion of the brief" for a lesson in good writing. Sarah nods. Meredith stresses that they won't survive summary judgment without a strong, effective brief. Sarah offers up a youthful smile. Meredith couldn't give a shit if she had chugged Ex-Lax. "Ms. Mickle," she calls out as Sarah tries to leave. "I'm disappointed." Sarah doesn't appreciate this extra dig.
Sarah tails Clare around the office whining about her wrist-slapping from Meredith. Clare is embarrassed at her friend's loud bitching. "Randa went and told The Mantis who wrote which part," gapes Sarah. "And that mine was the one short on 'efficacy,' that BITCH." Heads turn with interest. Clare is mortified. "I can say 'bitch,'" Sarah insists. "No one's going to know who I'm talking about. The place is full of them. BITCHES and DICKS." This is an excellent example of office decorum. Clare drags her away.