So House has to go before one of his many nemeses, the transplant committee. He tells them that Henry is an excellent transplant candidate, in great health except for the dying heart. "He's sixty-six years old," Cuddy the Ageist says. "He told me he was sixty-five. Liar! I'm outta here," House says in what might have been my favorite line of the episode. Great line, great delivery. The Evil Head of the Committee points out that the older the candidate, the less likely the transplant is to succeed. House says that Henry hasn't been hospitalized since he broke his leg when he was twenty-three years old, although House can't trust him on the age thing anymore. Everybody LIES when it comes to their age, House. Evil Head of the Committee doesn't want to give a heart to someone who doesn't have very much time left to live, even if he is in good health. House bristles at this, saying that, by that logic, they should be giving organs to women over men, since they live longer, and just passing black people over entirely, since their average life span is shorter than white people's. It's a good point, but probably not the right way to make it. It's good to see that House can use his over-attentiveness to race for good instead of evil sometimes, though. Evil Head of the Committee says he won't be won over by being accused of racism. "You can either be a racist or a hypocrite," says House. Evil Head of the Committee is going to go with hypocrite, saying that Henry "already had a life", and that Evil Head of the Committee would rather give organs to people who haven't gotten that chance yet. House asks the Evil Head of the Committee how old he is, at which point Cuddy wisely calls an end to the meeting. House doesn't have much hope that they'll decide in his favor.
Foreman tells Henry and Amy that the committee voted against giving him a new heart. Dude, seriously? Is this really how it works? Some committee of random assholes gets to pick who gets a vital organ and who dies? And if so, can someone tell me how the hell Larry "Drunk and Old" Hagman got a new liver? Of course, Henry and Amy are very sad. If I were Amy, I'd be out tracking down those committee members and stealing their hearts to give to my dad.
House sulks in his office. Proactive Cameron marches in with her letter of appeal, hoping that the argument that the Committee's personal dislike of House clouded their medical judgment will be a valid one. Sometimes Cameron actually has a good point to make. "They made the right call," says House. But he'll sign the letter of appeal anyway, because it's in the best interest of his patient. Then he takes off for Clinic duty, asking Cameron to get him the files on everyone who died at PPTH today. Judging by PPTH's poor standards of medical care, Cameron has a lot of work ahead of her.
Warren is back in the Clinic. This time, he's got a broken ankle from, he claims, being kicked by the hoof of a protesting cow. Even cows have standards when it comes to their sex partners, I guess. Warren continuously refers to the cow in general terms, calling it an "it" instead of a "she," and lacking the sort of affection that one would expect from someone who's in love with the animal. (I guess; I tend to not expect anything at all from people who want to have sex with animals. House, however, has apparently studied this and therefore knows what to expect from Warren.) Not only that, but the hoof wound has a wooden splinter in it that indicates it wasn't made by a cow after all, unless it's a cow with a peg leg. Which, by the way, would be very cool. House isn't in the mood for this, apparently still believing it to be the most intricate and involved fraternity prank of all time, but Warren begs for his help: "I'm sick!" House says that if Warren's really serious about this, then he'll submit to the "painful" and "humiliating" tests House will have to run. Warren agrees to this. I really don't care about Warren's mysterious sexual problem.