Then C.J. leaves to go speak to Mark Gottfried, who's closing off the special broadcast by thanking a long list of people. Once he's out, she pulls him aside, and he admonishes her, "You said twenty minutes." She reminds him that she was pulled into a meeting. He points out that it's been forty minutes; she reiterates the meeting issue. He doesn't seem to be buying that she'd have a meeting at midnight. C.J. points out, "It's not midnight everywhere in the world, Mark." Wouldn't that be weird? If there were no time zones. I'm just saying. I just had a little chat with Professor Frink about this, and using a tomato to represent the Earth and our African violet as the sun, he explained to me the sort of physical differences that would have to exist for this to be the case, and why it would be such a very bad and untenable situation if there were no time zones. What I love is that he always launches into answering my questions with great enthusiasm, and once he's done, becomes very suspicious and paranoid about why I'm wondering about such anti-scientific notions. It drives him crazy to think his wife might get to thinking very silly unscientific things, like a friend of his who believes (really) that the Earth's rotation is slowing down and will ultimately reverse its direction in a couple of decades. And I usually won't tell him what makes me think of these things, because I enjoy puzzling people. Anyway, I digress, and it's a short day and a big recap, so let's get on with it already. C.J. tells Mark that the officer is innocent. Mark: "You just decided?" C.J. responds, "No, a Grand Jury and a D.A. and a civil-court judge decided seventeen years ago. Nobody brought charges and the civil suit was dismissed. The Detroit Police Department cited him for excessive force to calm down the black community." C.J. tells him she's arranged for Sloan to do Mark's show tomorrow morning. Mark asks, "Is he doing everybody else's show, too?" C.J. says no. He asks why not. She replies, "Because you waited forty minutes." She leaves.
Back at the post-speech party, Toby's sitting a table alone, puffing on a stogie. He can smoke in the reception room, but POTUS has to go outside? ["Maybe POTUS just can't smoke in his office?" -- Wing Chun] Sam comes up and sits down. Sam tells him that Bill Dryer from Seth Gillette's office called, and that Gillette wants to have a meeting with Toby. Toby sighs. "I'll bet he wants a meeting with me." Toby says, a couple of times, that it's not going to happen. Sam says, "Toby..." Toby gets up and starts to walk away, saying, "He got enough input from me during the six weeks we were writing the thing, I don't need to hear his..." Sam interjects, "He's very upset." Toby says that he knows. Sam indicates that he thinks Gillette is more upset than they calculated he would be. Toby could care less (and since it's Toby, I do mean "could"). "We're going to have to learn to live with that pain. He's not the President of the United States. He's a junior senator from North Dakota where nobody lives, 'cause it's too cold and they don't have a major sports franchise." Toby doesn't care who he alienates. Last week it was Dodge Durango owners; this week it's North Dakotans. Sam asks, "Do I need to lay out the ways in which this man is important to us?" Toby says nope, but Sam begins anyway. "He is adored by the left." Toby: "Stop laying out the ways." Sam: "He's our link to the environmentalists." Toby: "Stop laying out the ways." Sam insists that Gillette's asking for the meeting isn't out of line, and adds that he thinks Toby should take the meeting "In fact, you should take it tomorrow morning at 7:30 at the Hyatt." Toby's not too pleased that Sam already set up the meeting. Sam: "Just the time and place." Toby: "And you expect me to explain myself to him?" Sam, confidently: "Yes. Yes, I do." Toby gives in. Hmm, feels like payback for the drop-in. Just then C.J. calls Toby from off-screen and Toby leaves Sam.