Bonus! Jack shows Lemon the finished cut of Take My Hand. Jenna beatboxes on the set filled with Huggies, Tide, Oreos, and other products while Rosenthal raps in a cop costume and Slaughterface dances like Sudeikis in the background. Jenna shills that the single is available on iTunes. Lemon thinks no one will pay to see this dreck, but Jack says it doesn't matter because it's already profitable. Cut back to the screen, where there's a number to text if you want to vote for Rosenthal. Lemon wonders why there's a voting option if it's a movie, not a live TV show. Jack says, again, it doesn't matter because some numbskull out there will text the number, and they'll make 99 cents each time. At which point, Lemon texts the number so that Rosenthal won't win over the muppet. The bubble pops up over her picture, and an announcer says, "To vote for Liz Lemon, text 'Liz' to 6-2-2-8-8."

Time for jokes, this week with 100% more Temple Grandin!

Tracy Is the Lizard King
Jack: What about Grizz and Dot Com?
Lemon: Neither does anyone Tracy's close to -- his wife, Charles Barkley, Edward James Almost, who is an Edward James Olmos lookalike that Tracy is friends with...
Jack: Kenneth talks to Tracy on Skype. Why doesn't he just call him?
Lemon: It doesn't work that way. Tracy only contacts Kenneth on special occasions like Bastille Day.
Jack: I'm going to go ahead and assume that Bastille is a stripper.
Lemon: As well you should. Now there's a chance he may call tomorrow because it's his lizard's birthday.
Jack: Has it really been a year since we were all at the Waldorf, eating that cake made out of lizard meal?
Lemon: Yep, Jeremy's almost 11.

What's the Opposite of a Francophile? Jack.
Jack: This morning I figured out how to fix NBC -- we will only do shows that work.
Lemon: That's nonsense.
Jack: Do you know what the business model is in the entertainment industry is? Make 10 shows and hope that one of them works. We produce more failed pilots than the French Air Force. [Jack and Lemon high five.]

Age Ain't Nothin' But a Fumble
Lemon: Well, as hard it is to believe given our apparent ages [points to Kenneth], this is my son.
Pizzeria Owner: Seems about right.
Lemon: Well... good.