The Cottages have managed to get George's gurney into the MRI room, but have no idea what to do next. George obviously won't fit in the narrow tube. Cameron says that George's head is all they need to scan, so if they just get him on the table, they'll be able to slide that much in. Foreman says that the table will collapse under George's weight and cost PPTH a million dollars. Hopefully, PPTH has some kind of deal with the MRI companies, since they break them so often. Cameron wants to throw caution to the wind, saying that the four hundred and fifty pound weight limit is just an estimation. Chase says that George isn't a few pounds over the limit -- he's a hundred and fifty. "He still deserves the same standard of care as anyone else," Cameron insists. And I guess everyone else deserves not to get their MRIs since the machine is broken. "You believe the machine will stand on principle?" Foreman asks. It might -- that MRI has a mind of its own. That mind tends to be evil, though, so it will probably fold up and eat George like a Venus Fly Trap. Which would be awesome. Cameron hopes that the power of her self-righteousness will enable her to George onto the MRI table all by herself, but it doesn't.

So we cut to the Cottages and several nurses trying to lift George onto the MRI table. Evil Nurse Brenda speaks for them all and asks Cameron how much George weighs. "Four-forty," Cameron instantly says. Evil Nurse Brenda uses her mad carny "Guess the Weight" booth skillz and doubts this, but goes along with it anyway. They get George on the table and there's a tense moment while they all wait to see if it collapses. It groans, but stays upright.

House, meanwhile, is snoozing in his office. Cuddy comes in and hands him the number of "the best criminal attorney in Princeton." But what about Plainsboro? It doesn't matter, as House doesn't think he needs one. As far as he's concerned, he has a valid prescription for his Vicodin and everyone will back him up on that, so there's no problem. Cuddy says there obviously is, since everyone Tritter's asked has said that House has a valid prescription and yet, he's still going after House. Which would indicate to me that the person with a problem is Tritter, but I guess not. Cuddy points out that the legal system has been on an anti-pain doctor tear lately and might not be very sympathetic to House. She leaves, and House crumples up the paper and throws it towards his wastebasket. He misses.

The MRI of DOOOM! begins. The Cottages see nothing strange in George's brain and figure out what they should do next. Cameron wants to do an LP, but Chase doesn't think they'll be able to do one on a guy George's size, because Chase has decided that being fat rules out all medical care options. This time, though, it seems that he's right. The fat gets in the way of whatever you need to do an accurate LP. Suddenly, George wakes up and throws a temper tantrum. Cameron gets on the mic and tells him he's in a hospital, but for some reason, a booming, disembodied voice does little to calm him down. Chase has trouble sliding George out of the tube, as the fact that George is fat makes it difficult for Chase to press the "eject" button on the keyboard. The MRI tray finally collapses under the weight and George pops out.