Meanwhile, Lemon charges down the hall to pull a Kenneth on old Base-Rounder Brad. She chews him out for not coming through on his end of the deal, only to discover that he didn't realize they were engaging in a deal to begin with. When he mentioned that he wanted the night to be worth it, he was actually referring to having sex for the first time since his wife died. He dissolves into pathetic sobs, shouting, "What kind of a person are you?" He looks upward and apologizes to his wife in Heaven for choosing someone so unworthy. Guess who's the monster now.
Upstairs, Lemon, Jack, and a representative from HR go over the finer points of Bitch-Tears Brad's sexual harassment suit against Lemon. HR Guy deems her a "filthy prostitute." He says that, since it was a first-time offense and since Jack explained the "mitigating circumstances" (menopause!), she'll get off with a two-week unpaid suspension. Jack chips in that clearly Brad can't function in this hostile environment, so the budget review process will start over again, this time under Jack's supervision. The HR peon castigates Lemon that harassing others sexually doesn't always work out in the end. (Except in this exact situation, but he doesn't need to know that.)
Kenneth barges in to tell Jack about a spider on his desk. He notices pervasive silence and wonders if this is another firing meeting he's interrupted. "It is now," says Jack, and invites Kenneth to sit down.
Later, Kenneth seems surprisingly unfazed back at his Page desk. Tracy and Jenna approach to apologize for real, with just a hint of casual racism (thanks Jenna!). They tell him they want to make it up to him. Cut to Kenneth entering his apartment for the first time in an untold number of days. He is greeted by a dove, then looks around to see scads of other birds of many varieties (other than pelican, sadly). "Looks like I've got some naming to do!" he delights. "Pat. Balthazar. Donna. Lorne. Michaels"... and so it goes.
Fiscal funnies anyone?
One of These Does Not Belong With the Others
Lemon: Okay, guys, I just want to say congratulations on our 50th show -- 50 hours of comedy, over 300 sketches, one unsolved crew death, and an Emmy... magazine cover story!
Don't Ya Just Hate When That Happens?
Lemon: Handle a presentation? Jack, I put on a live show every week... unless there's wrestling. I'm on it.
Jack: Good, I've got some more downsizing to do upstairs, so I've got no time for hand-holding. Let's get this right.
Lemon: I've got some tricks up my sleeve.
Jack: That's my girl.
Lemon: No, Trix the cereal -- I've got some up my sleeve. It's sticking to the fibers!