Mergers And Yak-Quisitions

S06E07

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Early reaction (not nearly just from me) puts this episode up on trial to determine if it's the worst the series has offered to date. It's not helped by incredibly obvious and clunky metaphors, nor by Don, realizing that Sylvia is falling more and more under his spell, creepily dipping his toe in the S&M pool by giving her orders he makes it clear he expects her to obey. She's just as grossly into it, full of servile passion, but the saving grace is a dream she has that convinces her to dump not just the role-play but also Don, which is good because I was just about at the point where I was going to have to start fast-forwarding through their scenes. That poor red dress, is all I can say.

The CGC employees move into SCDP's digs, and at the first combined partners' meeting we see, Cutler and Roger announce that Fleischmann's Margarine is interested in being the first new business for the bigger agency. Another primary order of business is for Roger to rather dickishly fire Burt Peterson, again, some more, although he's hardly the only one, as no sooner do we get a name for the older Creative lady -- "Margie" -- than does she get the axe as well. Pete worries about his own skin as too, afraid that he'll be slowly pushed out in the coming months -- his inability to get a chair at the partners' meeting hits that home VERY SUBTLY -- but he gets a little distracted when his mother turns up to his apartment, and it's clear she's got some early-onset dementia even before he hears from his brother that she's been living like she's in Grey Gardens. This causes him to miss a trip upstate to try to salvage a client, which isn't going to help his prospects, as he takes pains to convey to his secretary... like there's a lot she can do about it.

Joan gets a terrible pain in her side, so Benson, who just happened to catch her in that moment, takes her to the hospital and even pulls a sneaky move to get Joan seen more quickly. It's just an ovarian cyst, but Benson comes to check on her, and afterward, Gail pushes Benson on her daughter, which is not nearly the worst idea she's ever had and also proves her eyes still work fine.

With Don off telling Sylvia's vagina where and how high to jump, Chaough meets with the combined Creative team, and it's clear that his freewheeling style is going to clash with Don, as well as is his propensity to start meetings on time. However, when it's just the two of them, they seem to work rather well together, which is no surprise given their triumph with Chevrolet, but Peggy certainly is not thrilled when a side effect of their brainstorming is Chaough passing out right in front of the entire Creative team, to the point where she actually gives Don a piece of her mind about it. Once he sobers up, Chaough realizes in a talk with Gleason, who is not doing so hot, that Don won this round, but Gleason assures Chaough that he'll outlast Don in the end. Chaough gets a bit of revenge when he takes a terrified Don upstate in his little two-seater, which doesn't really have enough room to squeeze in a tired metaphor about weathering storms, and yet it ends up happening anyway.

Oh, and Bobby Kennedy gets shot, don't you know.

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In his home elevator, Don presses the "lobby" button, but the car stops on a different floor -- that of Rosen and Sylvia. There are a couple bags in front of the elevator, so apparently Rosen summoned the elevator and then returned to the apartment to fight with his wife, which actually isn't that credible at all -- she's been a surgeon's wife for how long, and now that Don's within earshot she's conveniently flipping out? -- not to mention the fact that having grown up in an apartment building it still drive me bazoo whenever people ring for the car before they're actually ready to go. It's a civic nuisance almost on par with parking on a curb that can fit two people in such a manner that you block anyone else from joining. Anyway, speaking of not credible, Sylvia is shrieking about Rosen going to Minnesota and how he doesn't take care of her even though he pretends to or some such nonsense, and given how distractingly artificial everything in the scene is, it's not helping that we're not even hearing Rosen's responses. It's obviously a cost-saving measure so they don't have to pay Brian Markinson, but voice work alone isn't that expensive, and it would at least bring the scene up a little bit to make it sound like Sylvia isn't just running lines like she's Megan. Don eavesdrops for a bit but hastily presses the "close" button when it "sounds" like Rosen might be heading out...

...whereupon we cut to a pair of feet walking as jaunty music plays, and then we pan up -- not too far -- to reveal Chaough, a satisfied smile on his face. We see via the wall clock that it's 9:20 AM, and Peggy comes bustling in behind Chaough with a box of stuff in her hands. They chat a bit as they walk, but Peggy stops at the Creative door to say hello to "everyone" -- that being Stan, Ginzo, and the older woman -- and to introduce them to Ted. Yes, "Ted" -- he's in too many scenes now for me to keep spelling "Chaough" out all the time. Speaking of first names, Stan FINALLY gives us a name for the older woman -- "Margie" -- and Ted tells them it's nice to put faces with names.

While I'm here, I might as well point out that Stan seems friendly enough to Peggy, not that I really expected him to hold a grudge. That's mostly because I think he's doing enough drugs that he doesn't remember why he should, but still. Ginzo, in that inimitable straight delivery that makes you unsure enough that you can't quite accuse him of shade, tells Ted that when he saw him taking a tour the other week, he looked pretty tall, "but now I see you're about my height!" Hee. In case it's not clear on screen, they're both teeny. Not a deal-breaker for either one. Ted comes right back -- "I hope you can still look up to me" -- and Stan is rightly impressed with the quick bon mot. After a few more pleasantries, Peggy and Ted take off, whereupon Margie snarks, "Nice knowin' ya." Seems unfair what happens later, but she kind of does it to herself with that one.

As some furniture is moved, there's a crowd gathered at the base of the internal stairs, and Joan is giving out office assignments. When Moira, who I think is the CGC counterpart to Meredith, if not quite that stupid, protests that having all the Creatives in one room will be crowded, Joan fires back with a brittle smile, "But that may change soon!' Don't think this isn't lost on the huddled masses here. Moira bothers Joan for a bit, but then Ted and Peggy appear, and Joan's happy enough to greet the former but positively delighted to see the latter. Joan then escapes the officious Moira by taking the opportunity to escort Peggy to her office, which is Harry's (and Pete's before him) old one, as it happens. She does caution Peggy she'll have to share it, but Peggy's fine with that as long as she has Phyllis to herself, and we've seen Peggy with Phyllis enough to know this represents actual affection rather than any "don't touch my stuff" mentality.

Joan gets a pain in her side, which looks quite sharp, but she waves it off. They get to the door, which is missing the new nameplate but helpfully has a handwritten sign on it that reads "Peggy Olson, Coffee Chief." Gender politics aside, hee. After Peggy enters, she asks after Joan's son, and Joan playfully replies, "He's the man in my life." I kind of predicted this? Joan in turn asks about Abe, and Peggy babbles that they bought a building together, which I was kind of wondering about last week -- Peggy's "I want her out" line did suggest she might be a landlord -- but now it's completely clear. Joan smiles very warmly and tells Peggy she's glad she's there, and Peggy returns the sentiment. Joan then gets back to work, leaving Peggy to regard her office, which is, as you'll recall, smaller than the one she was in at CGC, even if you don't count the support beam right in the middle of it. On the plus side, it'll function as a natural divider.

Don comes in through all the chaos and looks in to see the partners assembled in the conference room; somehow, Dawn is nowhere to be found. He starts to remove his coat...

...while inside, Bertram is reading from, I guess, an announcement to the staff he or someone else has prepared, which talks about the merger and the CGC performance at the Clio Awards and whatever, and (a) it's not finished and (b) there's no new name yet, apparently, so I'm with Joan when she suggests that they wait until they're done with the personnel changes, even if what she means is "no need to force the walking dead to listen to this drivel." Pete then enters and apologizes, explaining that someone commandeered his secretary; he then discovers that there's no chair for him, which is a nicely unsubtle warm-up for all the ham-fisted metaphors in the episode. Roger can't resist pointing out that Don took the last seat. "And that means you were here after Don!" Heh. Don smiles approvingly at the legendary status his tardiness has achieved because he is an asshole, and then Moira thankfully offers her seat, which is nice but are we SO ENAMORED of this metaphor that no one can step out and get another chair from somewhere? Did no one take a count of the partners before the meeting? Anyway, Ted belays that, getting up instead for Moira while he plunks himself down on the sideboard, and from the way Don looks at him like he has two heads, of course we're to imagine that this is Ted being the Man of the People to Don's aloof boss. I've seen it on series that last this long before; when the seams start to show, you often can't unsee them.

Roger announces that he and Cutler have parlayed the Clio news into an early meeting with Fleischmann's Margarine, and Cutler adds, "They want to be Ted and Don's first love child." Ew. After Meredith points out that this should wait for New Business and is rebuffed with all due respect, Ted thinks the Fleischmann's news is "groovy," and I don't necessarily take issue with him using such parlance, but even the raddest hippie would probably think twice before using it to describe margarine. Meredith starts reading off company names for Ongoing Business, and when she announces "The New York State Thruway," Pete brings up Mohawk Airlines -- brushing aside Meredith's renewed protests for going out of order -- and says that the rep, Henry Lamont, considers the Thruway account a conflict, so they should resign. Cutler, however, thinks this is a stretch, and when Ted points out that the Thruway is a limited media budget compared to Mohawk, Cutler counters that the client is New York State, and they give the money for their buy up front. Roger: "And you already spent it." Pete wonders why Cutler didn't tell them that, so Cutler shoots back that perhaps they should have told him that their disaster with Vick's was going to cost them Clearasil as well. As Cyril was fantastically so fond of saying this season on Archer, "Burn." Never to be outdone in contests to keep it classy, Pete sardonically asks why Cutler didn't tell them that Gleason was dying, but Ted pipes up that he's going to be fine. It's only because I just caught this again on TV that you're getting this reference, Ted, but I'm not sure that I agree with you one hundred percent on your police work there. Don chimes in that he knows the Mohawk client, so he and Pete will fly up there. Nobody points out that the last interaction Don and Lamont had ended on terms that were less than good, but Joan does add that Ted will need to join them as well. It then comes out that Ted's a pilot, news at which Pete looks as delighted as Don looks terrified, particularly when Ted offers to take them all up to Mohawk. Don can't really object, though, and then Clara comes in to tell Pete there's an urgent phone call for him, so he stands and announces that however they're going, they should do it the day. When he's gone, they move on to the client, who belongs to Burt Peterson and Ken, and that's not the first time we've heard that pairing in this meeting, which surely would get Pete's goat...

...but he's got more immediate problems, as the phone call is from his super or some other member of the building staff -- his mother is in his apartment. The guy tells Pete that Dot -- that is her name, if you'll recall -- was banging on his door demanding to see his father, and she was making such a racket he thought someone was going to call the police. Pete asks to speak with her, so "Billy" puts her on the phone, but not without Pete asking him if he'd get her a gin and tonic with two ice cubes. It may seem like an imposition, but Pete's probably doing Billy a favor. Dot informs Pete that she found his address on her nightstand "in some woman's handwriting," and she assumed his father was up to his old tricks. Pete doesn't know where to start with that one, so he tells her he's going to send his brother Bud over to get her, to which Dot replies that Bud's "going to send that girl Trudy." Pete informs her that Bud's wife is Judy while his is Trudy, thank you very much, but Dot isn't impressed: "Now I suppose I'm crazy for mixing those up." Hee. They disconnect, after which Pete makes another call. Normally he'd get Clara to do it, but a rotary phone does enable you to dial with extreme prejudice.

The meeting is just breaking up, and Don's the first to leave, which really befits the last to arrive. He pauses at the chaos in front of Dawn's desk -- again, no indication of where she is -- and then Peggy and Burt appear. Burt crows about the worm having turned, and I love Michael Gaston but I'm not sure what Burt thinks he's on about here; in any case, Don is as gracious as he gets in saying it's nice to have the old team back together, although he is looking only at Peggy when he says it. Peggy smiles, then asks in reference to the ringing phone, "Do you want me to get that?" Hee. Don answers, and it's Sylvia; he tells his two now-subordinates he's got to take it, and Burt smiles, but there's an edge in his tone as he says he and Don will have plenty of time to catch up on flights to Detroit. When Don's gone, Burt tells Peggy, "He's still a cold fish," but Peggy doesn't care so hard that she's out of frame before the words exit his mouth.

Sylvia asks Don to come over, as she needs him, "and nothing else will do." Don gets an interested look on his face and considers for a moment before telling Sylvia he'll meet her at 12:30 at the Sherry-Netherland Hotel. "Call me with a room number." I may be jumping the gun a bit here, but: Yes, master!

Burt comes in to see Roger, who invites him to have a seat and remarks, "Here we are again!" Burt huffily tells Roger that he hasn't forgotten anything, to which Roger remarks that sometimes, you do something and you don't realize until later how much you enjoyed it. I wouldn't be surprised if you could find that line in the pages of Sterling's Gold, but Roger's point is that you have to remember to savor it if the opportunity comes around again. Burt takes this as a conciliatory gesture and tells Roger he thinks he can work with him as well, but Roger's like, oh no no no -- you're fired! Burt can't believe it, but Roger gleefully goes on that no one fought for Burt, and as it happens, Ken is off touring the Chevrolet plant right now by himself. Burt tries to say that he's got four million in billings, but Roger says that's exactly the issue -- he was picturing Burt talking over him in meetings. "Now, I don't have that problem." He goes on in this vein, breezily and prickishly dismissing the possibility of any kind of severance, and are we as the audience supposed to know where this is coming from? When Burt was last fired, he had a dying wife, and it was taken as a real tragedy, only done on orders from London. It also doesn't seem like Burt did a bad job for CGC -- even if no one fought for him, it sounds like it was either him or Ken, and coming in second to Ken Cosgrove is no shame, no matter what Pete might say. No, I think the show's going for funny here and miscalculating badly, at least the way I see it; I also find it not particularly credible that the CGC partners would leave this firing to Roger, however distasteful they might have found doing it themselves...

...but it's happened regardless, and when Burt runs into Benson on his way out, the latter introduces himself with an enthusiastic smile and his slightly-too-loud voice and says he's supposed to report to him. Burt: "Well, as the first order of business, I recommend you stick your head between your legs and kiss your ass goodbye!" It lacks the vitriol of his last firing, but it's a pretty decent exit line nonetheless, and Benson looks appropriately horror-stricken. If he were carrying two coffees, I'm sure he'd spill at least one of them.

Here's the knock on the hotel-room door none of us have been waiting for, and Sylvia answers from the darkened interior. Inside, Don pulls her into a kiss in an I-saw-it-in-a-movie-once romantic way, and after he gets her on the bed, he asks her to repeat the bit she told him earlier about how nothing else would do. Guess what? She does.

Back at the office, the Creative people from the two agencies are exchanging a little small talk as Ted looks annoyed that Don's not there yet. Stan talks about how he worked on the KKK spot that was "too hot to run," and Ginzo tells him it's very impressive. Stan thanks him, whereupon Ginzo clarifies, "You made it fifteen minutes before you brought it up!" Hee. Peggy joins the group, and when she tells Ted that she just spoke with what could be either "Don" or "Dawn," Ted asks, "Black or white?" Oh, Ted. Peggy wisely declines to answer directly, instead going on that "she" wouldn't tell her anything. "She's an excellent secretary." Well, as good as one can be for not actually being in the episode. I understand budget issues, believe me, but this is feeling like we're about to find out that Dawn's actually being held against her will at Judy Bernly's house.

Ted decides to start the meeting, and as such tells them that before they formally get into Fleischmann's specific benefits and work, he wants to, "I don't know, have a little rap session about margarine in general." I don't know what to tell you other than that I'm quite sure I transcribed that accurately. His point is for them to free-associate; Mathis, after being whispered to by his art guy, offers "My grandmother," while Peggy intones, "Yellow." Ginzo comes up with a few descriptive adjectives, which Ted encourages, but when Ginzo adds that people hate it, Ted takes umbrage to the statement. Ginzo: "You said there were no wrong answers." Ted: "I didn't say that." Heh. In Ginzo's defense, though, I'll say that the exercise alone heavily implied it, but Stan, Judas that he is, only pipes up that he doesn't hate it. Peggy then tells the group that Napoleon III invented margarine, "because armies need to move and it never spoiled." That's true of soup made from boiled socks and pencils, too, but I suppose I take her point. So does Ted, and Stan, impressed, wonders how she knew that, but Peggy tells him she just did. Ted asks them to get down ten uses for margarine. "French Army's number one." Not to get too into semantics, Ted, but the French Army is a use for margarine? (Sorry to quote Cyril Figgis again, but it's like "The Nazis invented Neil Armstrong?")

Sylvia's getting dressed and complaining about how Rosen told her to "cut the apron strings" with respect to their son, which is rich coming from a man who rushed upstairs to borrow some wrapping paper so Mitchell's star would remain undiminished in his mother's eye. And Sylvia does seemingly have reason to worry, as the boy is in Paris (I neglected to mention it last episode, but Rosen did tell Marie that Mitchell was bound for the Continent) and "all of France in on fire; I don't even know if the phones are working." Don very sympathetically is like, I don't want to hear about your husband, and then he settles into a chair, fixes her with a look, and tells her he wants her to crawl on her hands and knees to find his shoes.

And look, I have no problem with the show exploring S&M per se. The issue is that Don is just so bad at it; he's coming off like he just read and thought he'd give it a whirl. His characterization has been all over the place this season, so I'm not shocked that there's no discernible motivation for this happening now, but he had far more magnetism even as recently as a couple seasons ago and could have pulled this off without question. Now, though, it's just embarrassing -- not least because he clearly doesn't really believe in what he's doing -- and if the show acknowledged that, it would be one thing, but having Sylvia -- talk about characterizations that make no sense; this is the same woman who supposedly lies awake at night worrying about Don's salvation -- be so easily and creepily turned on by it isn't credible to me at all. But for now, she gets his shoes and puts them on his feet, whereupon he tells her to get undressed and back into bed. Once she's obeyed, he gets to his feet, tells her not to go anywhere, and leaves, and she's like, TF? Seriously, don't you wonder how these two even got together in the first place?

Back at the Creative meeting, Ted notes that he's hearing a lot about bread, like, I know you're trying to foster ideas here, but did you think Napoleon III's soldiers used it to polish their boots? And even if they did, would that translate into an appealing marketing campaign? After Stan walks into the bread basket again and Ginzo is like, "What did he just say?" Don appears, and Peggy acts natural, but Ted, not used to the SCDP Cult Of Don's Tardiness we saw on display earlier, fixes Don with a disapproving look. Don's explanation is that he got "held up," not that "his slave was slow with his shoes," and he grabs some toast with more authority than he conveyed giving Sylvia those commands earlier. For his own power play, Ted calls the meeting to a close, saying they'll be ready for research later in the week, but Don isn't one to be embarrassed in a work environment, as he tells Peggy to set the meeting and bails. Ted heads off after Don, and we don't see it, but I'm pretty sure Peggy's conferring with Ginzo and Stan as to how much earlier they should tell Don the meeting is than the actual start to get him there exactly on time.

Ted catches up to Don and cuts right through his attitude to tell him the meeting was at one, and being five or ten minutes late is one thing, but delaying everyone for forty minutes is unacceptable. "I've got better things to do! But obviously you did too." Don's going to have to up his game now that he's got an equal in both rank and verbal ability here. He wordlessly enters his office and closes the door, and we stay with Ted for about fifteen seconds as he walks to his office across the way and closes the door in an approaching Moira's face. I get it, but it seems like a lot of camera time to back up the idea that these two are opposites. But I suppose when it's the only time you make that point, you can afford to be a little indulgent.

Sylvia gets a call from Don, and she asks him if he's on his way. In response, he puts on that voice that's going for "sexy command" but in reality sounds kind of like that high-school kid on Seinfeld who gave Elaine all the video recommendations. He tells her she's going to wait there, and she won't know when he's coming back, to which she asks what's gotten into him. My answer would be a Smurf, but he merely tells her not to answer the phone again, and then he shows how good he is at this game by calling back LITERALLY IMMEDIATELY, like, way to test her resolve there, guy. Like I said, I have no problem with this subject matter; it just pains me to watch someone be so bad at it. Sylvia doesn't share my opinion, though, as her WTF expression turns to one of girlish glee as she slides down under the covers, and then she touches herself to the ringing phone. His work here done, Don picks up a bottle from his bar...

...and then Ted gets a buzz that Don's there for him. He enters with the bottle and two glasses, proclaiming them an "olive branch," and given what it's going to do to Ted, he might as well just hit him in the face with it right now. Ted doesn't move, but Don pours the drinks anyway and says he thought they should discuss margarine alone. He then gets all swaggery about how quickly he can drink, and tells Ted that of course he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to, but after Ted does his best, downing an evening's worth of booze in about ten seconds, Don asks if Ted wants to show him his notes. Ted: "It took forty minutes to figure out no one knows shit about margarine." This elicits a genuine laugh, and the tension fades as they get to work. Of course, Don declares his intention to drink more, and that's not normally news but he's making a point.

Pete arrives home to find Bud, and the fact that he's got a drink in his hand but still hasn't taken off his overcoat should tell Pete where this is going. Pete asks where Dot is, hearing this in response: "She spent twenty-five minutes looking for a dish for the nuts, and then she went into the bathroom. Good luck!" Hee. Pete tries to tell Bud that he's got to be the one to take her, as his office situation is a shitshow at the moment, but Bud's like oh, yes, the merger -- that's the one you went to a competitor of my company's to underwrite, correct? "I caught a shovelful for that, Pete. I got to pretend to my partners that you don't believe in nepotism." Pete, however, is too concerned with the fact that he had NO CHAIR at the meeting to pay attention to much else, as he thinks it signals him being phased out. Bud tells Pete to calm down -- he has a long drive home. So, he and the rest of Pete's family are still unaware of the rift with Trudy. This is surprising, but given the explosion of boxes over at SCDP, it can't have been that long since the last episode. Bud adds that even Dot's cleaning woman quit, as Dot "cut all ties" and now the whole place smells like a rabbit warren. Yikes. I had friends when I was younger who had just one rabbit and the smell was overwhelming; can't blame anyone for crying hostile work environment here. Bud adds that Judy has been finished with Dot ever since she snapped her with a tea towel across the face (don't condone the action, but the mental image is kind of hilarious), and adds that maybe they can get the paperwork started to have her committed, but in the meantime, it's Pete's turn. Out of arguments, Pete lets Bud go, and then Dot appears, dressed to go out but with her mind all over the place. Pete informs her she'll be spending the night, and she can have the bed, but Dot tells him she never sleeps. Well, that explains quite a bit, although I'm not sure how Pete's dad got away with so many affairs in that case. She then holds out a bone-dry glass and asks him to "freshen" it, and he looks at her like she's a use for margarine. Well, if the French Army is, why can't she be?

Speaking of margarine, Don and Ted are having a very serious discussion about which Gilligan's Island character is which margarine, and Ted, who's lying down, half-slurs, "I don't know who's Ginger. Probably Parkay." Hee. Ted breaks some ideas down systematically, prompting Don to make a disparaging comment about using formulas to come up with ideas before pouring some more booze into Ted's glass. Ted protests that he has to eat something -- good thinking -- and does a good job of looking like he's got the spins as soon as he sits up, whereupon Don gives him a scenario -- it's morning, and a farmer's wife sets pancakes with margarine on top on the kitchen table; there's heavy cream and fried eggs and Don's talking like this is an amazing concept for some reason when it in fact sounds like a parody of itself; it manages to be pedestrian, generic and unbelievable at the same time. Sure, they churn their heavy cream, but they'll sully their pancakes with margarine -- not Fleischmann's for any particular reason, it's worth adding. I keep expecting the show to be in on the joke, like, Don makes fun of Ted for having a creative process and then demonstrates his superior skill... by shitting out a concept that a five-year-old could come up with and storyboard. I mean, I'll give Ted a pass because he's seeing eight of Don and all he can think about at the moment is bacon, but Lord.

There's a knock on the hotel-room door, and Sylvia, still swathed in a sheet, opens it to find a box from Saks; inside, she discovers it contains a red evening dress and looks all appreciative again. Ugh.

Joan gets a knock on her door. Holding a wastebasket close to her face, she asks for a minute, but Benson comes in anyway. Joan reproves him, but he simply misheard her, and it's a good thing, too, as she experiences a convulsive pain. After determining it couldn't be her appendix -- wrong side -- Benson tells her she can't stay, but she's worried about the staff seeing what she's going through. After considering for a moment, though, he kindly takes her arm and tells her to walk with him, "and I'll bother you all the way out. No one will know." Aw. Benson's my favorite new addition this season, not that there are that many to choose from.

Ginzo and Margie are playing cat's cradle (hee) in the creative area while Peggy asks in wonder who talked Topaz into TV spots. Ginzo claims credit, but adds that Margie took the account over, and Margie adds, "The client still calls me 'Peggy'." Heh. Ted then stumbles in, red-faced as can be, and takes a survey of who likes Bobby Kennedy and who wants Gene McCarthy. Peggy wisely gives him her seat, and it's lucky Pete's not around to see that, and then when Mathis tells him he's voting for Nixon, that's enough to cause Ted to put his head down on the desk right there. Well, if you're going to pass out, picking a stylistic cue is a plus. Don, having won this round, tells the rest of the team to call it a day, and most of them don't wait to be asked twice, but Peggy glowers at Don's back before trying to get Ted up. Without moving, he's like, "I'm fine!" Hee. LOVE him.

We return to a close-up of a bowl that's collecting the drips from a leak in the ceiling, and the stuff looks like it melted from the New York snow Kim Carnes would sing about years later. Joan, still looking ashen and uncomfortable, is sitting in a waiting area when Benson returns with a Coke for her and the news that her babysitter agreed to stay, but he couldn't get hold of her mother, so he's not leaving. Joan realizes she's probably still in the Catskills, and I'm very happy for Gail that she's getting out of the house, even if it means she has to field constant reminders to try the fish. After Benson offhandedly lets us know he's unattached, Joan worries about Kevin's fate should anything happen to her, and Benson tries to assure her it's just food poisoning, but another stab of pain prompts Joan to demur, and Benson can't take any more and leads Joan up to the counter. The older nurse on duty at first refuses to look up so steadfastly you'd think she was on the subway, but Benson is undeterred as he tells her he's like really really dumb, and their problem is something he's totally sure she could handle with her "medical expertise" -- you see, Joan drank some furniture polish by accident, as she wasn't wearing her glasses. This gets the woman's attention, and she's like, you do need to see a doctor, as if everyone else in there only ingested Windex. Joan immediately gets escorted to a bed...

...while Sylvia, having changed into the dress, is reading (is that ALLOWED?) in the chair when Don finally returns. After some talk about the outfit, she grabs her purse and asks where they're going, but he tells her they're not going anywhere -- she's for him. "You exist in this room for my pleasure." I don't really know how to explain further how this isn't working for me, but he's unconvincing enough that it's like he's checking in with her every few seconds all "See what I'm doing? Getting off on this?" It's like the bondage version of him being all gaga over Megan tasting the orange sherbet. Sylvia uncertainly asks if they're going to eat, but he tells her to take off all her clothes, and after considering a moment, she complies, eventually somewhat getting into making a show of it...

...and then Don's climbing into bed with a sleeping Megan, having proved... that he can accurately measure a woman's dress size by eye, I suppose. That I would already have believed.

Ted is nodding in a hospital-room chair, looking disheveled and exhausted, when Gleason, who looks like he's going down rapidly, comes to and remarks that Ted looks worse than he does. I wouldn't go that far, but the fact that it's close says something, and Ted confesses he slept on the floor of his office because he couldn't find the couch. Hee. Ted goes on that Don seems more interested in him than he is in their work, and Gleason replies, "But you're not very interesting!" Ted: "He doesn't know that!" Hee. This, I liked; it's a quick moment, but real friends and business associates who make their living with words and humor can't let an opportunity to bust on each other like that pass, no matter the circumstances. Gleason asks what Don's like, and it seems odd to me that they apparently never got the entirety of both sets of partners together even as hurried as the merger was, but Ted tells him Don's mysterious, "but I can't tell if he's putting it on. He doesn't talk for long stretches and then he's incredibly eloquent." After a bit more deprecating humor, Gleason quotes, "If I wait patiently by the river, the body of my enemy will float by," and I wonder how Sun Tzu would feel about his wisdom being used in regard to dick-measuring strategy among ad men. Kind of feeling me, Ted sighs that it's all such a waste of energy, but Gleason counsels him to give Don the early rounds and he'll tire himself out. Ted looks like he appreciates the advice, but also realizes he doesn't know what he's going to do without Gleason. Also, his liver is quaking in fear of this "Round Two."

Pete's about to leave for work when his mother calls him out for obviously living there full-time, and wonders if Trudy's done with him. And she got the name of his soon-to-be-ex-wife right this time! Of course, moments later she's thinking her husband is still alive, but Pete tells her to stay put, as her place is being sprayed due to all the vermin infesting it, and when she asks if she can go get her things, he tells her lies that make her think she's even more confused than she actually is. It's not worth getting upset about how this family treats its members since they're all horrible, but it's an instinct that's still hard to resist.

Don enters the office and once again finds that Dawn is not at her desk, and again, I understand they can't have Teyonah Parris every episode, but there are ways to fix it to it's not so crazy obvious. I mean, if Don looks askance at her empty desk, how are we supposed to take it in stride? When Don enters his office, he finds Peggy and gruffly wonders why she didn't wait outside, but she tells him the entire visit is confidential. Don is like, what, you want to quit already? There's enough of an edge to come off as unfriendly, but Peggy's not there to make friends! It's just too bad there's no throwing wine handy. She tells Don that she hoped Ted would rub off on him, not the other way around. Don, of course, is unimpressed, eventually snarking that SCDP risked itself "just so I could have you in this office complaining again," but Peggy snaps back that Ted can't drink like Don. "And you must know that, because nobody can." It does make you wonder exactly how much he's imbibed the times we've seen him wasted, and if SCDP has a line item in its budget for such supplies. Don tells Peggy Ted's a grown man, but she points out he is too. "Move forward." I feel like Peggy's the Cassandra of this episode, which I guess explains why I agree with her so strongly.

Harry is assuring Pete that he's going to be fine, as with Peterson gone and Ken off servicing Chevrolet, everything else is going to fall to him. Pete's worried about Cutler, but Harry complains about his new, shittier office before Clara comes in with news of another phone call from he-knows-who -- there's been a fire. I was going to say I hope Dot knew better than to put it out with her gin and tonic, but then I realized she'd rather burn than give up a G&T. Pete storms out past Clara, leaving Harry quietly to ask if it's Trudy, but Clara quickly shakes her head before withdrawing as well.

Lying post-coitally in bed (I'm guessing, but for all I know, he ordered her to do a round of calisthenics instead), Sylvia says that she doesn't know what it is -- she doesn't want to think about anything. Wish I currently had that luxury. Don asks who told her she was allowed to think -- yawn -- before informing her that he's flying upstate, and when he comes back, he wants her ready. She agrees, but he tells her he's taking her paperback too, and there have been about a billion Fifty Shades Of Grey jokes on the internet this week, but the show's on its hands and knees begging for them. At least that's thematic, I guess.

Moira comes into Ted's office and asks if he has a moment for Clara; as soon as it's established who she is, Ted nods, and Clara enters and informs him that Pete had an emergency and Don's out, so she wants to reschedule the meeting. Ted, however, already unimpressed with SCDP professionalism, tells her there's no way, and then at least Don appears and asks if Ted's ready to go. When he hears what's going on, Don wonders when Pete can join them, adding that it's raining pretty hard, but Ted tells him they should go immediately, and once they're above the clouds, everything will be great. Don looks like he believes that no quite so much, but he started this game...

...so he can't really back out, even though in the plane, he looks like most people do when they drink a case of Canadian Club in an afternoon. I'm not convinced that a tiny plane such as this would get clearance to take off in such a heavy storm, but once again, neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night stays these metaphors from the swift completion of their appointed rounds. In that vein, with Ted and Don highlighting their differences by sitting so close they're practically in each other's lap, I'm not sure where they would have fit Pete anyway, unless they were going to strap him to a wing, which I admit would have been fun to see. Anyway, when Don loses his cool, he really loses it -- he couldn't look more scared if Ted suddenly addressed him as "Dick Whitman," but then they get above the clouds and it's a sunny day! Nothing's gonna stop them now! They stood this storm together! Not that Don isn't still shaken, and Ted twists the knife: "Sometimes when you're flying, you think you're right-side-up but you're really upside-down." Heh. Don takes out Sylvia's book -- it's The Last Picture Show, and I have to give it a nod for being made into one of my all-time favorite films. Less good is, when Ted brings up what Don might say to Mohawk, Don conceding the round by admitting it's irrelevant: "No matter what I say, you're the guy who flew us up here in his own plane." I'm not convinced Don would give Ted the satisfaction by saying this out loud, but I suppose I shouldn't look for reasons not to enjoy a good Don Draper defeat.

Coming into the apartment from outside (and I mistakenly said in the recaplet this was in Jersey, but we know Joan lives somewhere in upper Manhattan), Gail tells Benson she's not sure if "Joanie" is awake, but Benson only wants to drop off a kid's-size football, jauntily wrapped in a red bow and ribbon. Gail, however, heads in to investigate, and Joan emerges from the bedroom in a robe and is surprised to see Benson. As he hands over the gift, he apologizes that he wasn't planning on dropping in like this but wanted to see if she was feeling better. Joan smiles that Kevin is only two and as such will merely play with the bow, and then Gail's like, have a seat! Stay a while! Woman knows a good thing when she sees it, but Benson tells them he has to get back to the office -- he did leave his overcoat on his chair, but that will probably only work so long. At my first job I had a friend who would take off entire afternoons to play golf with essentially no more sophisticated a trick. He, too, was quite good-looking, though.

Gail sees Benson out and then comes back to tell Joan he's adorable -- we're all starting to think so -- but Joan thinks he's too young for her. Gail, however, replies that she knows from experience that younger men are not intimidated by powerful women, and having experienced that for herself in ways both good and bad, I can't believe Joan would argue the point. She does, however, express the opinion that Benson isn't interested, and she's possibly jumping to that conclusion because now he's seen her at less than her best, but she might also have a point when she adds that Benson's worrying about his job. Also, we learn that Joan had a cyst on her ovary, and my great friend Mark Blankenship spared me the trouble of making any remarks about that with this hilarious piece. Gail tells Joan that every good deed is not part of some plan, prompting Joan to reconsider the gift in a new light. Joan, you don't care what I think and also you are fictional, but that's not going to stop me from green-lighting you here.

Pete trudges back into the office and mumbles that Dot left the teakettle on, and the fire was mostly smoke. Clara, of course, then has to give Pete the news that the meeting happened without him, and "apparently it went very well." Pete gets his trademark lemon-sucking face as he tells her that him not being there precludes it having gone "very well," and does she understand her employment is tied to him? Given the apparent secretarial shortage, I wouldn't necessarily take his word for it, but Clara merely nods and tells him not to feel bad that he was taking care of his mother. Pete: "My mother can go to Hell. Ted Chaough can fly her there." Hee. Also, she would get to see her husband again that way! He asks her to give him a minute, and after she exits, he leans against his desk like he's an old man. Time to take a little more out of the hairline, H&M Department.

Don enters the hotel room and uncertainly looks around before calling out that he's there, which is more "Honey, I'm home," than "Woman, get on your knees," not that that's going to be relevant much longer. You see, Sylvia emerges from the bathroom dressed and ready to leave, and she tells him she thinks it's time to go home. "I think this is over." He doesn't read her, for which I can't entirely blame him since this character has been all over the place, so she takes his hand and tells him she had a dream -- a plane crashed, after which she went to Don's funeral and Megan cried on her shoulder, and then she returned to Arnold and told him, "I've been away, but I'm home. The metaphorical 'home' and 'away.' It's a stretch to say I was literally away, since most of the time Don and I were banging in the maid's room, but I was emotionally away. And now I'm emotionally home, so when I leave to go to the grocery store, there's no need to think of me as 'away' because I won't be." Dreams are often hard to parse, so I thought I'd explain that one for you. And honestly, if Megan crying on Sylvia's shoulder in real life didn't move Sylvia to anything but jealousy, I find it hard to believe a dream would, but again, I shouldn't argue with results of which I'm in favor, so let's let Sylvia tell Don again how it's time to go HOME: "This is over, and not just this." Heh, I like that she has no idea what to call what they've been up to here.

Don's bravado cracks, and he tries to tell her that it's easy to give something up when you're satisfied -- as if he'd know anything about it -- but she counters, "It's easy to give something up when you're ashamed." Aside from the fact that that's not necessarily true, I never read shame from her before, so maybe we can partially blame Casting for the misstep with this character. Desperate, he begs her with a "Please," but she merely tells him they should go. Defeated, he opens the door for her, but after she leaves, he looks at the red dress lying on the bed. I know it's meant to be symbolic -- what around here isn't, lately? -- but it's not like you let her wear the damn thing for more than ten seconds in your presence anyway. How attached could she be?

Roger, Pete, Joan and Cutler are having a personnel meeting -- this is where we officially learn that Margie got the axe -- and Cutler wants to can Benson to even out the numbers between SCDP and CGC. Pete advocates for Benson, and I'm glad there's no guilt by association for that debacle with his father-in-law, but Cutler is still unimpressed, and falls back on the "Last in, first out" rule. Well, we know Don would be in favor. Roger and Pete don't have an answer to that, but Joan is like, okay, sure -- except Bob has been very involved with Ken's accounts, and with Ken in Detroit -- sounds like he's there for a good long while -- firing Benson might compromise their continuity of service. This, of course, only makes Peterson's firing seem even hastier, but Cutler gives in, and Pete and Joan exchange a conspiratorial look before Joan moves on to the secretaries...

...while Don and Sylvia are returning home, and I hope one of the benefits of this breakup is that we'll be seeing less of this goddamn elevator, especially since they spend another fifteen seconds -- again, some more -- on a dull-as-ditchwater two-shot. John Slattery on the whole has been okay in the past as a director, but this episode is off in so many ways. When long moments lack dialogue, they have to be more meaningful, not less. This is just feeling like a director imitating the show's established practices rather than understanding them; it's not working. Anyway, the elevator FINALLY opens, and Sylvia walks out without looking at Don because, in case you were not sure, she is HOME. Don looks plaintive as the doors close...

...and then Megan's bringing him a drink as she talks about taking a little vacation from the show so they can go somewhere. After she sits, she keeps talking, but her voice fades to nothing. WHAT DOES IT MEAN? (Here's one idea.)

Oh, right, we're not done yet. In the dark, Dot, wearing a headscarf that Norma Desmond would covet, comes in to wake Pete up with the news that "they shot that poor Kennedy boy." Of course, Pete thinks his addled mother is talking about JFK, but from the dates, we know it's Bobby Kennedy...

...and then we cut to Megan sitting on the edge of the bed watching the TV report, her face stained with tears. Don, dressed for work, comes in, walks past her, and sits facing off to the side as "Reach Out Of The Darkness" plays. You know, the one that goes, "I think it's so groovy now/that people are finally getting together"? Because these two are not getting together? I mean, I know the song's really about assembly and protest for change, and a little research shows that this song debuted the day before this assassination, so I can forgive the obviousness of the irony with respect to this scene, but this is a camera setup that makes me wonder if the scene was filmed on "Take Your Film Student To Work Day." Less obvious is the question of whether Don's mysterious hearing loss was temporary, but that's a question for week's episode, which at least rates to be better based on general probabilities. See you then.

John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His new film, a documentary on online privacy and the sale of personal data called Terms And Conditions May Apply, will be in theaters in July. You can get news on it from the film's Twitter account. Also, you can email John at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.