The Cottages run their tests. I like how their relationships with each other are kind of awkward and cold, like real-life co-worker relationships, especially in a competitive environment like this. Foreman notices Chase is staring at Cameron, who's off in what I guess is a soundproof booth, and tells him to quit watching other people work and do his job. "She's weird, isn't she?" says Chase. "Bad idea," Foreman immediately responds. Relationships with co-workers rarely end well. This ruffles Chase's feathers, and he asks whether "weird" is a new ghetto euphemism for "sexy," like how "phat" and "bad" mean "good." "What the hell does 'good' mean?" Chase wonders. Chase needs to stop watching stand-up comedy specials from the early '90s. Foreman seems to find it funny that Chase automatically assumes that Foreman, being black, is up-to-date on all the latest "ghetto" slang. Chase finally admits that Cameron is "hot," but says he doesn't want to "jump her." Then he asks what the deal is with airline peanuts. Those bags are so hard to open, it makes you wonder how easy to use those oxygen masks are!
House has a patient at the clinic, but that won't stop him from playing a little Metroid on his Game Boy Advance SP. I think this is awesome, but the patient just wants someone to do something about his sore throat. House says they have to wait. Finally, Cuddy enters the room, all business, and House reluctantly puts his GBA away as he thanks her for the "consult." He explains that his patient's throat "seems to have some condition." Cuddy snaps on a latex glove and takes a look down the patient's throat. She's pretty annoyed when she sees that House pulled her out of a board meeting to check out a plain old sore throat. She seems to appreciate the humor in it, though. Hell, she'd probably rather be looking at red tonsils than sitting in that stuffy old board room anyway. House says Cuddy did say he always thought he was right, so he figured she'd appreciate his newfound desire to seek a second opinion. Cuddy tells the patient to go home and drink some hot tea. "Excellent counsel!" says House. I disagree; last time I had a sore throat, I went to the doctor and he performed a similarly cursory examination and then told me I had a postnasal drip and to take Tylenol. A week later, my throat hurt so much that I couldn't swallow Tylenol anymore, so I decided to take a look down there myself. I was surprised to find that my tonsils were grossly inflamed and covered with white spots. I went to a different doctor, who lectured me for allowing my tonsillitis to progress to such a severe stage that they almost had to be taken out. Plus, I had touched one of the infected tonsils to make sure the spots were on it and not food particles or something, then took out my contacts lenses and gave myself pink eye. This all happened a few days before I graduated college. You can imagine how beautiful I looked in those photographs. So you see, patient stupidity and doctor apathy are never a good combination.