The Stackhouse Filibuster

Previously on The West Wing: Jed insisted to Abby that he hadn't made the decision to run again; Josh told Hoynes he knew that Hoynes would be President if Hoynes had listened to him; Abby tried to cut through Jed's denial about the implications of his MS; Leo was starting to wonder whether Jed had already decided not to run again.

Over shots of Washington in the evening, we hear C.J.'s voice reading an email she's writing to her father (and this is the expository technique du jour; later, Sam and Josh will be reading email they're writing, too). She's explaining why she's not on a plane on her way to see him: it's because of an unanticipated filibuster. C.J. says that if he's mad at her, he's not alone, because it's Friday night and everyone's trying to get out the door, only she won't let anyone leave. On the monitor in her office, we see an old white guy identified as Senator Howard Stackhouse (D-Minnesota) blathering on as he reads recipes from a cookbook. I believe it's actor George Coe, who must qualify for HITG! status, having played hundreds of lawyers, judges, and politicians but whose name I didn't know until now.

We switch to Sam in his office, with his coat on. He's listening to the recipe, checking his watch, and saying to himself, "This isn't happening." Someone's taken the thinning shears to Sam's hair and removed the blow-dryable bulk. It's no Season One 'do, but it's good enough that I can live with it. I guess I can stop nursing this particular grudge. I'm in the market for a new grudge to nurse, if y'all have any suggestions. Oh wait, I just fell over my giant file folder marked "Waiting List of Nurseable Grudges." From the look of this thing, I'm all booked up grudge-wise until 2067. Sorry, false alarm. Sam calls out to C.J. as she walks by, "What the hell is he doing?"

Sam and C.J. pedeconference as C.J. explains, "It's a recipe for deep-fried fantail shrimp." They banter a bit about what Stackhouse is doing and how long he's going to be up there. How should C.J. know? Sam wonders how many recipes there can be. C.J.: "All together? I can't cook, but I think there are probably, like, twenty or thirty." Sam: "You're screwing around with me." C.J.: "Oh yeah." Sam complains that he's about to miss the shuttle that would allow him to catch the train to Sag Harbor. C.J. says he can spend the night in New York. He replies, "I've only got two nights, and you gotta see this house." C.J. asks, "It's cool?" Sam says it's a Frank Lloyd Wright. Well, then. C.J. asks, "Isn't it cold in Sag Harbor right now?" Sam: "We wear sweaters. It's a Tommy Hilfiger ad." Snort! I bet it is, too. As C.J. splits, she says, "He can't last forever." Sam complains that there are still twenty or thirty recipes he could read. C.J. almost disappears through a pair of swinging French doors saying, "Sam, seriously, there are more recipes than that." Sam calls out after her, "Who cares? He's blowing my weekend in the Hamptons." As the doors keep swinging, she calls back, "Maybe he doesn't know about the sweaters."

Back to the email to Mr. Cregg: C.J. explains that the reason everybody needed to stick around was that as soon as the filibuster was over, there'd be a vote, and once they'd voted, she would need her "Spin Boys." (From now on I think I'll spell this "Spin Boyz." Any of you talented haiku writers from the forums feel like working up a rap for them, you go right ahead.) C.J. runs into Josh, who asks, as they pedeconference, who gave Stackhouse the recipe book. C.J. really doesn't think that this can be blamed on the recipe book, and adds, "Plus, I now know the secret to Cold Asparagus Chantilly is a quarter cup of whipped cream." Josh says, "I'm going to Port Saint Lucie, which may not mean anything to you, but happens to be the spring training home of..." C.J. interrupts, "...of the New York Jets. Yes, you've told me. Josh, you can watch basketball on TV." Josh: "Yes, except the New York Knicks are a basketball team, the New York Jets are a football team, and Port Saint Lucie is the spring training home of the New York..." C.J.: "Mets! Yes, dammit, I'm inadequate." This is totally a shout-out to me, since I know about as much about sports as she does. Well, I knew that the Knicks are a basketball team, and I knew the Mets are a baseball team. I'm not sure I could have told you the Jets are a football team. Nor am I clear on why some cities have two major league sports teams (Mets and Yankees, for example) and others don't. Nor am I clear on why the accepted pronunciation for the Celtics team is with a soft "c" instead of a hard one. That's so very wrong. (That's #453 on the list of Nurseable Grudges.) Anyway. Josh rhapsodizes: "A weekend at spring training, C.J. Mike Piazza's gonna be standing in the batting cage. He's gonna turn and see me, he's gonna say, 'Dude.'" Josh mimes the batting pose during all this. C.J. -- who cares about as much about all that as I do -- replies, "Well, I wouldn't want you to miss a legitimate dude sighting." Josh: "So I can take off?" C.J.: "No." She disappears through another door.

Back to the email: C.J. explains that she needs her Spin Boyz because it's a bipartisan bill, and she's all for bipartisanship, as long as the Bartlet administration gets the credit. She's therefore taken the press corps hostage. With any luck, some thug has a gun to Danny's head. As C.J. enters the Briefing Room, everyone calls out her name is whiny, weary voices. C.J. firmly says, "Hey guys, I'm sorry, but you know what? Listen, seriously, you're looking at democracy at work. It's a beautiful thing." One reporter asks, with only a modicum of sarcasm, "How much more beauty can we be expecting tonight, C.J.?" She opines that it couldn't be much longer. Another reporter mentions he has a recipe book. C.J. replies, "Yeah, but how many recipes can there be? Twenty, thirty?" Some flunky comes up to C.J. and whispers that it's Friday night and he's supposed to have dinner with his girlfriend, who's going to kill him. Dude must be new here, because he seems unfamiliar with the hours of work, which are roughly 4:00 AM to 2:00 AM. C.J. responds, "Yeah, but you know what, Mark? This is just the kind of thing that can cleanse the palate of a relationship that's gone stale, like a fine sorbet." Mark objects that they've only been going out for three weeks. C.J.: "And she's already bitching about dinner? Lose her." Hee. She takes the podium and explains that the filibuster's got to end sometime, and that, when it does, there'll be a vote, POTUS will make his calls, White House staff will be available for comment, and most importantly, they will all write about it. She concludes, "In the meantime, I say: pizza for everybody! Who's with me?" There's no response -- not even an unenthusiastic one. She says, "Excellent!" and leaves the stage.

Outside, C.J. tells Carol that they're going to need a crapload of pizza and some Cuervo 1800 if they've got it lying around. Carol asks, "How much?" C.J.: "Just enough for me." C.J. runs into Toby, who announces that he needs to be at Telluride first thing in the morning. She replies, "That's a rough assignment you pulled there." As they enter her office, Toby says he already missed one plane and specifies another plane he can catch if he changes planes in Chicago. C.J.: "And as your travel agent, it's important that you update me on that information." Toby's playing with one of his bouncing balls, and yes, as a matter of fact, I did type that with a straight face. She points out that she's supposed to be on her way to Napa to celebrate her dad's seventieth birthday, and he doesn't hear her complaining. Toby says he just did. C.J. tells him to get out. We can see Gail's bowl on the desk. I bet it's Carol's job to clean that thing out. Toby asks, "It's your dad's seventieth birthday? You doing anything?" C.J. reiterates the Napa plan. He meant right now. She says that she's just sitting and waiting, ordering pizza, catching up on email, reading recaps on MightyBigTV...okay, not the last one. Toby starts to leave, bounces his ball once, and mentions that he's got a basketball game on his office if she wants to come by. C.J.: "The Jets and the Mets?" Toby: "No, it's the Nets and the Hawks. The Jets and the Mets?" He gives her a look like she just suggested making anchovy-flavoured Jell-O™. She insists, "I know the teams. I'm joking when I do this. I'm joking when I do this." He says okay but I'm not sure he believes her. I, for one, have never even heard of the Nets. ["They're from New Jersey. YEAH!" -- Wing Chun] As he leaves, he points out that there's a nine o'clock flight to SFO, and that she could drive to Napa. She knows. He leans on the door handle and says he'll be in his office. They both glance at the monitor and she says, "It'll end." Toby: "You have any idea how many recipes there are?" She says she really doesn't. Toby leaves. She goes back to her email, saying that when her father reads this, he'll probably be glad she stayed, and that he'll probably end up rooting for Stackhouse, because this doesn't seem like any old filibuster. And we're into the opening theme.

C.J. continues her email, explaining that it's her first filibuster, and that, while she's not a rules expert, the rules of a filibuster are simple: you have the floor as long as you hold the floor. You can't stop talking, ever. You can't eat or drink, which is no big deal since you can't leave to visit the john either. You're not allowed to sit down. You cannot even lean on anything or anyone. I can't help but think of last week'sSurvivor challenge, when the Boreamundis (tm Joanna) had to stand on poles in the water in a particularly difficult test of endurance. I couldn't believe they went past ten hours with that. Brutal. ["They could squat, though. And I'm thinking some of them were peeing down their legs into the water." -- Wing Chun] Anyway, Stackhouse looks like he might be able to outstand them all. We'll see. C.J. tells her father that it started with a bill called the Family Wellness Act. Josh had been leading Legislative Liaison Office staffers in negotiations with the Conference Chairman for weeks. This past Monday, Josh had walked into a staff meeting and announced that they got the Family Wellness Act.

We see all this happening as C.J.'s voice-over concludes. Leo asks, "What'd we get? What'd we lose?" Josh replies, "Well, we got most of what we wanted in Title VII..." C.J.: "That's infant hearing loss?" Josh says they got a hearing test for every child born in the U.S. Sam asks, "What about...?" Josh replies, "We did not get mandatory hearing tests for children not born in hospitals." Sam says they can live with that. Leo asks, "The Special Needs Adoption Awareness Program?" Josh explains that it's a national campaign aimed at creating awareness about adopting children with special needs. Well, then, it's aptly named. Leo asks how they got that; Josh explains that it was "by agreeing to a provision that would require health-care staff to give pregnant women information about adoption on an equal basis with all other courses of action." C.J. calmly mentions that the National Organization for Women is going to hate that. Josh knows. C.J. states that it should not be a legal requirement that women seeking abortions be lectured. Josh says, "Yeah, but you're going to help me out there, right?" C.J.: "Yes, I will. I will once again betray the sisterhood." No one in the room (mostly men) says anything, but there's a bit of shifting; C.J. says, pointing at several of them -- including the guy to her immediate right -- "I saw you, you, you, and you roll your eyes." The guy on her right protests that she wasn't even looking at him. C.J.: "I felt you." Leo announces, "We're done! Josh Lyman, everybody." People applaud for Josh a bit.

Sam and Josh meet at the door on the way out and Sam says, "Nice job." Josh: "I know. I'm thinking seriously about turning pro." Sam: "Yeah?" Josh: "Yeah, I got agents talking to me, telling me I could go high in the second round, maybe low in the first if I have a good post-season." Sam: "You don't want to stay in school and get your education?" Josh: "Nah. I'm white, nobody's going to mind."

C.J. "Jazzy Non-Chef" and the Spin Boyz all follow Leo into his office. Leo says, "Josh, this looks good. I mean, he stuck sunsets on a bunch of small ticket items, but..." Josh: "That's the way it's going to happen." Leo asks, "You just spent six billion on health care. How do you feel?" Josh replies, "I'd feel better if it meant just once I could go a doctor without filling out something on a clipboard." I must say, apropos of nothing, that John Spencer certainly can wear a double-breasted suit. I generally don't care for these on men or women, but they are perfect on him. Leo asks what else. Toby says, "Philip Sluman, who's the Chairman of the Petroleum Producers of America, testified yesterday to the FTC, that, 'the Bartlet administration's...' blah, blah, 'relentless pursuit of stricter emissions standards in the form of additives like MTBE is a big reason we've seen price hikes in some parts of the country.'" Leo says that the Energy Secretary has to respond. Toby says that the Energy Secretary is going to respond, and that he'd like to mention that to VPOTUS. Leo asks whether Toby wants him to do it; Toby says he's got it. Leo says that Hoynes is going to be pretty unhappy. Toby knows. Leo asks if there's anything else. There isn't, so they all leave.

Back to dad-mail: C.J. mentions that the Family Wellness Act is an omnibus health bill aimed at diseases that disproportionately affect children. As she tells her father, "This was a good day, 'cause something got done. The problem was, we only thought it got done."

As the scene switches from C.J. at her laptop to one of her walking around, she adds in her email, "Dad, this would be a good time to mention that it's possible that an Egyptian cat goddess named Bast put an ancient curse on me." Charlie catches up with C.J. and wants to ask her something, but first C.J. has a question of her own: "Charlie...may I call you Chip?" Charlie: "No." C.J.: "Chipper?" Charlie: "No." C.J.: "Gilligan?" Definitely not. Charlie mentions that Hassan Ali is visiting Washington at the end of the week, but before Charlie can say any more about that, C.J. points out that Ali has thirty-eight wives: "Imagine being the girl he dated who he didn't marry." Anyway, it turns out that, on a trip to Cairo last year, Ali gave POTUS a ceramic statue. The State Department has told the Office of Protocol that it's important that the gift be displayed when Ali visits. C.J. says that they should display it. It turns out that the Office of Protocol can't find it, and believe that C.J. may know something of its whereabouts, since Sherry Halpern, the gift officer on that trip, says she handed it to C.J. in Cairo. C.J. looks apprehensive and confirms with Charlie that it was small ceramic statue of a cat. She kind of sighs heavily and says "okay" a few times. Charlie asks if she knows anything about it. She defensively explains that it was a year ago and that she doesn't have instant recall of every cat statue she's ever been handed in Cairo. She tells him to tell Protocol that she's searching her recollection. Charlie says that Protocol's recollection seemed pretty good. C.J. says, "Leave me now." As Charlie splits, Toby zooms by. She wants to talk, but he tells her it'll have to be later, because he's going to talk to Hoynes. She goes over to Carol, who asks, "What do you need?" C.J. replies, "Some information, possibly a disguise, and a fast getaway car." She beckons Carol into her office.

Over in the Mural Room, VPOTUS Hoynes is doing a photo op involving several elderly women and a few very nice quilts. They're bantering about some flooding somewhere. An aide breaks up the session and mentions to Hoynes that the temperatures were unseasonably high last month; the guy to her adds that they don't know why. Hoynes says, "Well, it could have had something to do with the sun, though, right?" The beginning of this scene has the feel of one that had to be cut for time; it feels like there was a bit more there.

Toby arrives and Hoynes asks Toby whether he knew that the California Aqueduct is twice the length of Pennsylvania. Toby knew that it was pretty big. Hoynes and Toby sit down; everyone else except for one of Hoynes's aides has dispersed. Toby brings up Sluman's testimony; Hoynes says that he had a good point. Toby says he doesn't want to go around and around with him on this, and that Sluman had no point. Hoynes claims that the policy forces the oil companies to use expensive additives, the benefits of which are questionable. Toby says it's price gouging. I'm with Toby-Wan. He says it costs only marginally more to use the additives, but the price is being passed on to the consumer at an outrageous markup. Hoynes then brings up the concept that, if a refinery shuts down -- if, say, there was a fire or something -- production comes to a halt, gas becomes scarce, prices go up and come back down again. Yes, we all understand the basic laws of supply and demand; however, I fail to see how this comment addresses Toby's point. Whatever. Toby's response: "Well, it's good to know the companies can make it through the lean times." Toby says that, tomorrow night, Bill Trotter's going to be delivering a speech to the Detroit Economic Council on "Energy Efficiency in the Twenty-First Century," and indicates that they're going to rewrite the draft to reflect a "fairly strong rebuttal" to Sluman's testimony. Hoynes says it shouldn't be Trotter who does it, because his rants against oil companies are too familiar, and it's "dicey political terrain" for the Energy Secretary. Toby asks who he would send; seems Hoynes is volunteering for the job. Toby manages not to burst into laughter and only says, "Really?" Hoynes says he's holding a press conference tomorrow afternoon to announce an advisory group for the anti-trust policy. He says he'll open it up to all questions at the end, and he's sure they'll ask him about Sluman. Toby seems to be trying to find a diplomatic way to object to the idea that Hoynes is temporarily going to climb out of the back pocket of the petroleum industry in order to spank them, when Hoynes says, "If you think I'll be too soft on him, stand in the back of the room. If you don't like what I say, call Bill Trotter and say 'you're on' for tomorrow night." Toby seems slightly baffled by all this and asks if Hoynes would mind if he prepared some notes for him. Hoynes cackles and says, "Oh no, not at all. Would you mind if I shoved them up your ass?" Toby laughs and says, "No, sir, I...well, thank you, sir, we appreciate it." Hoynes puts his hand on Toby's back as they start to leave and mentions, "I heard you got the Family Wellness Act." Toby says the vote is scheduled for Friday noon; Hoynes says they'll have the bill by 12:05 PM.

As Toby leaves, we hear Stackhouse's voice reading another recipe, and we're back to C.J.'s email. She tells her father she'll get back to the cat story in a second, but she just wants to say, if he ever has a couple of hours free and is so inclined, he should try standing up without leaning on anything and talking the whole time. She writes, "You wouldn't make it. I wouldn't make it. Stackhouse wasn't supposed to last fifteen minutes. He's seventy-eight years old. He has a head cold. This bill is going to pass. He has no hope, to say nothing of, I can't imagine what the hell it is he's fighting for. Stackhouse wasn't supposed to last fifteen minutes..." She glances up with disbelief at the monitor, where Stackhouse is finishing up with the cookbook and suggesting they turn to David Copperfield. She continues, "Well, somebody forgot to tell Stackhouse, Dad, 'cause he just went into hour number eight."

After the commercials, we see Sam sitting in the Mess, staring intently at his laptop. Stackhouse is on a monitor in the background, reading Dickens. C.J. wanders in for coffee. She asks Sam what he's doing; Sam says, "Well, it's a little complicated, and indeed difficult, to explain in layman's terms." C.J. has strolled over with her coffee and she says, "You can put the black seven on the red eight." Sam looks up, surprised. Over his shoulder we can see that he's playing Solitaire; C.J. can see the reflection in the glass behind Sam. He thanks her. She says, "Hey Sam, who's your favourite writer?" Without much consideration, he says, "Toby." Aw. Sucking up even when the suckee isn't around to appreciate it. She persists: "Who's your favourite fiction writer?" I thought Sam would say Toby again, but he says it's Dickens. C.J. says she never got a chance to say she feels bad about his dad and everything. Sam says they're doing better and that the ice is starting to thaw. C.J. tells him she's in the middle of an email to her father, and that she doesn't talk to him enough; she then mentions that Sam's going to miss his last plane. He says he'll take Amtrak to Penn Station and rent a car. She starts to walk out but then remembers she wants to ask about one more thing: "Hey, did I hear you got spanked by some fourteen-year-old kid interning at the GAO?" Thanks for loading me up with that image. The GAO is the General Accounting Office, by the way. Sam bridles a bit: "I did not get spanked, and she was nineteen years old, and I demonstrated once again that I am open to all forms of debate." C.J.: "With an intern?" Sam: "If need be." C.J. wanders back to the coffee area to get some cream, and Sam says the intern was "very crafty." C.J. sounds unconvinced. Sam tells her to go back to her email. As Stackhouse coughs, hacks, and reads in the background, Sam opens up an email to his father: "Dear Jackass..." He changes it to "Dear Dad" and says that he hasn't told him any tales from the White House in the last few weeks. He starts to tell the tale of the intern.

As Sam narrates the story, the scene switches to Sam wandering over to Josh's office, where several people are crowded in for a meeting. Sam writes, "Josh was having his twice-weekly meeting with assistant deputies. He was basically staffing out in-box material for the few days. I was looking for a good piece of fruit." Sam kind of wiggles his way past the staffers in Josh's office and heads for the fruit bowl on the table below Josh's chalkboard. Josh is trying to give instructions to one person as Sam paws through the fruit; Josh finally says gently, "Sam?" Sam explains that he's looking for a piece of fruit. Josh: "Can we show you something from the back, or...?" Sam says that he's good, and perches himself on the table. Josh moves on to the assignment: "The White House has been instructed by Congress to compile a list of 400 government reports that should be eliminated, as they serve little purpose and cost the taxpayer hundreds of millions of dollars. We'll assume the modifier was dangling, and they mean the reports serve little purpose and not Congress itself." Josh asks who wants to lead it. Sam volunteers for this one as he eats a banana. Josh replies, "Right. You're not in this meeting. You're...shopping for fruit." Sam says he's done with the fruit, and that he was listening to what Josh was saying. Josh is surprised that Sam wants to do this. Sam does, because they got over 3,000 reports from federal agencies last year and that it's insane. The Department of Agriculture spent forty million dollars producing 280 reports last year. "Four years of college, three years of law school; I spent thirty bucks at Kinko's. Give me that thing." Josh does, and says they're done. As everybody files out, Sam declares, "Let me tell you people something: The GAO needs a little housekeeping, and that's my nickname. Okay? I'm the Housekeeper." Whatever you say, Sammy. They leave, completely unmoved by this little outburst, and Sam mutters to Josh, "God, that's a terrible nickname." Josh tells him that he had better start to getting used to it. As Toby shows up, Sam says, "I'm not going with that nickname anymore." Josh asks Toby what's going on. He tells them what transpired with Hoynes; they are, of course, both surprised. Toby tells them he plans to be there, but wants to know if it's clear to them why Hoynes wants to step up. None of them get it.

Back to Sam, writing dad-mail. He tells his father he got a team together to handle this task of eliminating 400 reports. We're now in the Roosevelt Room with Sam and few staffers. Sam tells them to lose a report that's still being written on a program that's been discontinued. up is a report on Route 66; Sam asks, "Anything in there I don't get from the song?" and decides, "Lose it." A young woman is pushing a cart around the table and unloading reports from it. She sighs peevishly. Sam says, "Excuse me?" She says she didn't say anything. This is obviously the nineteen-year-old intern we've heard about, but she looks about twelve. She's got that smart-mouthed, wise-beyond-her-years thing going on, especially the voice. It's funny, I've almost never met anyone who's actually like this, but there are just dozens of them on TV. Sam says she made a little sound; she apologizes and says she'll be out of their way soon. up is a report on tiny clams or mussels that are taking over the Great Lakes. Sam says to lose it. I dunno, I'd think you'd want to keep an eye on the numbers of anything that tiny threatening anything that huge. ["They're talking about zebra mussels, I think, and if they are, that's a threat governments have been aware of since at least the late '80s." -- Wing Chun] Cartgirl sighs more loudly and with more exasperation. Sam asks, "Can I help you?" She replies, "No, you seem to be screwing the world up all by yourself." Clearly she is very secure in her job; either that, or couldn't care less whether she's fired. ["She's an intern, so she's probably not getting paid and hence has little to lose." -- Wing Chun] Sam asks who she is; as she continues plopping reports on the table, she says that she is an intern at the GAO. One of the staffers says that it's almost noon and Sam suggests they go watch the vote.

Everyone leaves, but Sam asks Miss Mouth to stay a second. Sam guesses she's fourteen years old. She testily tells him she's nineteen. He wants to know what her problem is with his cutting reports. She replies, "Nothing, other than it being utterly bogus." She tells Sam that her name is Winifred Hooper. He asks, "Should I call you 'Winnie'?" Winifred: "Not unless you want me to spit at you." And you can tell she would. Sam says he doesn't, and adds that he can save $3 million by cutting those reports. She retorts, "Now every American family can realize their dream of a college education for their children with the penny and a half you've just saved them!" He starts to take her to task, and she accuses him of blowing through the reports like they don't mean anything. He says that they don't. She explodes, "You're an idiot!" He calmly reminds her that she's talking to senior staff. Sam really does have an inordinate amount of patience. Winifred: "Gee, genuflect when you say that, fella." Sam looks around on the table and grabs a report, reading the title: "'Report on the Obstacles to State and Local Training Needs in Solid Waste Management and Resource Recovery.' You know what this is?" She says she does. He says that it's a report on career opportunities for garbagemen. She wonders what's wrong with that; he says he thinks it's a tough sell, and he doesn't need a report to tell him so. She asks, "Do you have any idea how much MSW this country generates in a single year?" Sam: "That's...?" She replies, "Municipal solid waste." Sam says he knew that. Uh huh. She continues, "Two hundred and nine million tons of MSW, or 4.3 pounds per person per day." Good God. "And the kicker is, we only have hard data available from five years ago." Sam figures out that this means the numbers would be higher now. All those years in school weren't wasted. She goes on lecturing him about the important role of trash collectors, citing how much garbage three people starting at 4:00 AM can collect. He asks her how she knows all that. She says she's read the report. Sam wants to know why. She says anybody's allowed to read the report. It turns out the reports are filed in the office in which she works, and not only that, she's read them all. She claims she likes to read; and they let her come early and stay late. Honey, believe me, I know from the love of reading, but have you ever heard of a library? A bookstore? God knows I'd have to be pretty desperate to read hundreds of government reports. Anyway, she tells him that because of low unemployment rates, municipal sanitation departments are having trouble hiring qualified garbage collectors -- which, we can all agree, is not a good situation. She has to get back to work. As she's pushing her cart through the door, he calls out, "Winnie?" She turns with a glare. He continues, "Yeah, I said it. Listen, you're talented. When you get out of school you should come see me for a job." She hesitantly says, "I-I suppose you're not a complete loser...and you write very well. So, when I get out of school, you should come see me for a job." Sam doesn't say anything as she and her cart trundle off. I'm not sure exactly what we're supposed to take from all this. ["I certainly hope it's not a set-up for yet another inappropriate affair for Sam, because ew." -- Wing Chun]

Back to C.J. writing her dad: she's explaining her cat-astrophe. She'd looked into it, figured out she was in trouble, and decided she needed to tell someone: "A cohort, someone whose criminal mind was equal to my own." The scene switches to C.J. chasing Donna down. Donna's busy trying to get a pile of documents to unspecified people. They pedeconference as C.J. explains the story of Ali's gift, the history of cat worship in ancient Egypt, and the power and glory attributed to cats. Donna's not following the point of all this blather and C.J. finally grabs her and tells her she broke the statue. Donna asks how she broke it; C.J. says she tossed it in her suitcase. Donna's alarmed to hear this; C.J. protests that POTUS is handed all kinds of crap every time he leaves the building. Donna wonders whether the gift officer was unaware that it was a priceless relic. Apparently so, because she handed it to C.J. with "a couple of t-shirts and a box of baklava." Somebody calls Donna's name from offscreen and they start walking again. Donna wonders why C.J. is telling her all this, and C.J. explains that she thought Donna might have an idea. Donna can't think of anything right now other than that C.J. is "monumentally screwed." But she hates to leave it at that. Having gotten nowhere, C.J. leaves.

Someone hands Donna a message for Josh from Howard Stackhouse. Josh comes out of his office and bellows, "Where's my wallet?" Someone offscreen tosses it to him. That was weird but amusing. ["Glark wishes he had someone to throw him his wallet on command, because he never knows where the hell it is." -- Wing Chun] Josh yells, "Thank you!" and starts to return to his office. Donna asks him whether Stackhouse asked him to meet with one of his aides, because she doesn't have it on her calendar. Josh says yeah, but that he's not taking the meeting, because Stackhouse wants to add an amendment to the Family Wellness Act that would allocate money for autism care and research. Donna says, "And we don't want to?" Josh explains, "This is what's called a Christmas tree bill. Everyone hangs amendments on it. We just closed it this morning. We try to hang a star on top --" Donna interjects, "-- the tree topples over and it doesn't pass." Josh adds, "Yeah, Stackhouse isn't really someone who has a lot of muscle on this, so..." She says he's got this phone message from Stackhouse, and reads it: "You're going to meet with me or there's not going to be a vote while I'm alive. Stackhouse." Hm. So how is it nobody could see this filibuster coming? Josh takes the message into his office, with some degree of consternation.

Back to C.J. writing her father, saying that maybe it was the curse of Bast that made them dismiss Stackhouse's threat. She writes, "It's time to take it seriously, because he's gassing me out of time. Still, I've got two hours until the 11:00 print deadline, and there's no way -- there's no way he goes another two hours." As she finishes that sentence, Stackhouse is on the monitor, apparently done with David Copperfield and moving on to the rules of cards. She softly tells herself, "There's no way," as she rests her head lightly on her hand. Time for commercials, and for me to get some sustenance.

Now Josh is narrating, and I guess he's writing email, too, although it hasn't yet been specified to whom it's addressed. Maybe Joey. We see him in Leo's office. He's writing that Stackhouse's message was "pretty cryptic, like something you'd slip to a bank teller," and that it was unusual to get it directly from a Senator, rather than an aide. He says that Leo agreed that it was nothing to be concerned about, and instructed Josh to meet with Stackhouse, but not to give anything away under any circumstances.

"So I headed up to the Hill," he continues, "wearing, by the way, the new shoes you bought me, which I had never worn before." We see Josh rounding the corner of a hallway and wiping out, which I'm pretty sure is a shout-out to all those people who keep bugging Aaron Sorkin in the forums about C.J. and Donna being clumsy and goofy more than the Boyz on this show. Brad Whitford did an excellent job of wiping out, by the way; Allison Janney's not the only skilled physical comedian on this show. I like how nobody in the hallway tries to help him up. Anyway, I guess he's writing to his mom, because who else would buy him shoes? He then writes, "Since Dad's not here to do it, I think it's my job to bore you with history now. The filibuster's been a part of parliamentary stratagem [sic] in this country for over 150 years. Now, the reason we weren't sweating Stackhouse is that Stackhouse isn't someone you sweat. He's been around forever, but he has little influence, little power, and few friends. So, Dad would want me to tell you where the word 'filibuster' comes from. It's from the Dutch vrijbuiter, which, translated literally, means 'freebooter.' But what they meant was 'buccaneer.'"

By this point Josh is waiting in the anteroom outside Stackhouse's office. Stackhouse sticks his head out and beckons Josh into his office. I think George Coe would be a good casting choice to play a father to John Larroquette. I also think Barbara Barrie would be excellent as Josh's mom. Josh remarks that Stackhouse's cold sounds bad, and asks if he's taking anything. Stackhouse says that he doesn't want to talk about his cold and cuts right to the chase; he wants $47 million to fight autism: "Five centres of excellence at universities around the country to help scientists coordinate their research; three special units for autism epidemiology at the CDC; and a centralized facility for gene and brain banking. That's forty-three million. Uh, the other four million is for a federal program to educate doctors to reduce the staggeringly high percentage of cases in which autism is misdiagnosed." Josh says, "We can't do it." Stackhouse insists they can. Josh points out that the bill started out at $2 billion and is now at $6 billion. Stackhouse points out that the money he's asking for is eight-tenths of one percent of that amount; he adds that that is roughly the same as the percentage of children affected by autism. Stackhouse also points out that, somehow, during the negotiations for this bill aimed at improving children's health, money has been allocated for Alzheimer's, glaucoma, and erectile dysfunction. "You know a lot of two-year-olds afflicted with that horrific condition, do you?" He says this with a complete lack of humour, but Josh can't help laughing a bit at the ridiculousness of it. Josh says that he has a good point, but that in order for them to ensure that more important things got in the bill...Stackhouse interrupts and asks him, "So there was a determination made? An order of priorities?" Josh insists that the bill is closed and that there's going to be a vote. Stackhouse tells him to open the bill back up again. Josh explains that doing so would mean postponing the vote, and everyone's breaking for the recess, and...Stackhouse says, "And you want the story before everyone goes home." Josh admits this. Stackhouse says, "Okay," and gets up to walk out of his office. Josh starts assuring him that they'll include this the time around but Stackhouse isn't interested; he keeps walking, and dismisses Josh with a wave of his arm, saying, "That's all. I'm done with you now."

It's Friday night again, and we're seeing news coverage of the filibuster on a monitor in the West Wing. Donna's watching intently as the news anchor informs us that the vote was scheduled to take place more than nine hours ago. I honestly don't know how the guy can keep talking for nine hours with a cold, without stopping, and without drinking anything. Frink teaches a lot of classes and I know sometimes he has to talk practically all day, and even though he's allowed to drink and lean on things, sometimes it's just exhausting for him. Donna asks some guy named Zach (or possibly Zack, or even Zak) to get a copy of the footage the news show is running as part of their coverage of the filibuster. She's particularly looking for a few seconds of footage showing Stackhouse, on a campaign stop, with his grandchildren. Zach will get it for her. Josh comes in at this point and she tells him she's booked a flight for him the morning, direct to West Palm Beach. The flight doesn't get in until nearly 1:00 PM (yeah, and that's if it's on time, and I for one have never taken a flight that arrived on time, but that's #4 from the list of Nurseable Grudges, and we can't get into it here ["My flight back from Austin landed forty minutes early, but you're right, that's unusual." -- Wing Chun]). As they wander back to his office, Josh complains that it's still a seventy-mile drive to Port Saint Lucie, and that he'll miss the game. Donna didn't think they were playing yet; Josh says that it's an exhibition game. Donna: "You're flying to Florida to see the Mets play another team in a game that doesn't count?" Josh admits that it's actually an intra-squad game. Donna: "So you're flying to Florida to see the Mets play each other in a game that doesn't count?" Yup. Donna sighs. "Okay." She imagines many years of lonely sports widowhood but still wants to have his children anyway. Then she tells him about another, earlier flight, that would require him to change planes in Newark. Josh: "I gotta fly to New Jersey to get Palm Beach?" Donna starts to argue but Josh tells her, "Look, just make sure that tomorrow morning..." She interjects, "Mike Piazza calls you 'dude'?" Josh: "Yes." He begins typing and Donna asks, "What are you doing?" Josh says, "I'm writing an email to my mother." Donna: "Why?" Josh: "To thank her for a pair of shoes she sent me." Donna melts: "Your mother sent you shoes?" Josh: "Donna, please, try and keep it..." Donna: "That is the sweetest thing!" Josh: "Donna!" She makes a little pouty mouth and says okay and leaves. I suddenly think Glenn Close would be good as Donna's mother. I'm just casting parents left and right.

Josh types, "Donna says 'hi,' Mom. Anyway, I didn't think much about the meeting with Stackhouse afterward. There are always going to be people who don't get what they want. I was thinking about other things. Like Toby, I was puzzled about why the Vice-President, who made his money from the oil industry -- who champions the oil industry -- volunteered to admonish the oil industry." We see Hoynes at the podium in the Briefing Room. One reporter asks him to comment on Sluman's remarks. Hoynes replies, "Our relentless pursuit of cleaner air standards has resulted in lower asthma rates and the cleanest air in California in fifty years. It costs marginally more to refine fuel with additives but the costs are being passed on to consumers at an outrageous price." You can probably imagine the look of consternation on Toby-Wan's face as he listens to Hoynes say this. Another reporter asks whether he's accusing members of the PPA of price gouging. Hoynes readily admits that some of those CEOs are old friends of his, but, he adds, they do know how to turn a profit: "Now, they'll claim that prices will go back down after production increases..."

We hear Josh's voice-over again, writing, "Hoynes just kept hammering away, and I was reminded for a minute of how close he came to being elected President. Toby said it was an impressive display from Hoynes, but that he couldn't get past the question of why he volunteered to do it. And if you're wondering what the President does during a filibuster, I don't know, because this is our first. But at the moment, he's in his private dining room having dinner. There's a famous French chef visiting, and every time he comes, he cooks for the President."

The scene switches to POTUS appearing at Leo's door, inviting him to have dinner with him. POTUS excitedly tells him that Pierre Boileau is cooking tonight. Leo wants to know what he's serving. POTUS: "That's your answer?" Leo's just wondering. Jed says, "Well, I can tell you that the man specializes in a reinterpretation of classic Provençal cuisine. Cassoulet, duck with green olives, saffron chicken..." Leo says he hasn't had a good saffron chicken in ages. Jed: "Well, don't you think you deserve one?" Leo does indeed. Jed continues, "His specialty is his dessert, Tomate du Saltambique." Leo says, "That's going to be a big seedless, beefsteak tomato stewed for three hours in crème de caramel and stuffed with..." Jed: "Passion fruit, kiwi, and hazelnuts, and..." He points at Leo, who concludes, "Served on a pomegranate reduction. Yes." Jed tells him to leave his cell phone. Leo's bringing it, despite Jed's point that he's not leaving the building and that people will be able to find him. As they're leaving, Jed pauses and looks at the monitor, asking what Stackhouse is onto now. Leo says he's reading the rules of cards. Jed says, "Oh, brother."

Out in the hall, Jed asks, "Could Howard Stackhouse possibly be a bigger horse's patoot?" Leo replies, "I don't know what part of the horse that is, exactly, but I've always thought he was a decent guy." Jed complains, "He's a curmudgeon, a grouchy old crank." Leo says, "So are we." Jed takes exception: "You are. I am full of mirth." He complains that Stackhouse was all over him during his first year in office, calling him "Bartlet the Inert." That's not the snappiest moniker. Leo thinks that was pretty funny, but Jed rails on: "I'm a reformer! I'm the most liberal President he's ever served under! His hero, Hubert Humphrey, once, you know..." Leo: "Shook your hand." Jed: "That's right." As they keep walking toward the private dining room, Jed says he feels bad that he didn't go to the funeral of Stackhouse's wife a few years earlier, because he was busy campaigning. As they reach the door of the dining room, Jed again mentions the special dessert. We see a waiter lighting candles on a table with a simple but elegant setting. Jed and Leo kind of hesitate at the door and the waiter greets them. Jed tells him to hang on and quietly tells Leo that they had been expecting him to have dinner with Abby. Jed says, "So, we'll just, you know...pretend there's no candlelight." Leo: "Or that we're not paranoid homophobes in any way." Bwah! Best line in the show. Jed agrees. With Leo, that is -- not me. Leos's cell phone rings; while he's trying to listen to his caller, Jed says, "Leo, you have a deputy who's frankly a lot smarter than you are. Whatever it is, let him handle it. Who are you talking to?" Leo: "My deputy." Leo gets off the phone and tells him that Josh says there's no end in sight. Jed says, "Okay, let's eat." I need more food too. I know, you think I just ate something, but it's been ages since I wrote that. I don't toss off these recaps in a couple of hours, you know. Anyway, there are some commercials now anyway, so it's an opportune time.