Blurrrgh! Lemon just popped a Sabor de Doledad Cheeto into her mouth. She's in the supply closet reading the book "More Human Than We" an obvious exploration of apes. I can't say enough about how proud I am of Lemon in this moment. So few people have an awareness of ape history. How we descended from them 80 years ago when an obelisk came out of the Earth and started playing Beethoven's Ninth. Next thing you know we're flying our supercomputers into space. Jack walks in to share with her the exciting news. He's not worried about getting board approval because Geiss comprised it of total cronies and incompetents, including two of his hunting dogs. "Why do I smell self-tanning cream and teeth whitener?" he asks near the elevator and just then Banks saddles up from behind. That does not sound how I meant it by the way. Banks and Jack exchange a handshake and raspy half-threats then Banks invites him to his upcoming bachelor party to be held, curiously enough, on the set of TGS. He walks away as Lemon protests but Jack wants to let it play out. "That man can not be trusted."
In Tracy's room he and Kenneth are brainstorming ideas that might impress his son. He takes a break to clear his head but can't decide whether to relax to a video game or pornography. "That's it! Make a porn video game."
Banks corners Lemon in the elevator and starts to grill her about whether or not Jack accidently sold the company to a German television station. If you recall, that whole fiasco was Lemon's doing because she subbed for Jack while he and Celeste went away for the weekend. She blurts all of that out to Banks who thanks her for giving him ammunition to bring to his future father-in-law. Lemon has to think quick or Jack loses his job so she grabs Banks, starts making out with him in front of the elevator's security camera, and threatens to blackmail him if he says a word of what happened with the Germans to Geiss.
Frank is attempting to explain to Tracy why his porn video game idea won't work. It's because of something called "the uncanny valley." As artificial representations of humans become more and more realistic they reach a point where they stop being endearing and become creepy. Frank whips out a chart to prove his theory exists and when Tracy asks him to break it down in Star Wars he does just that: On one side of the scale are R2D2 and C3P0. "Nice," remarks Tracy. On the other side is a real human like Han Solo. "He acts like he doesn't care but he does," again says Tracy stating the obvious to usual comedic perfection. But the lowest point on the scale is "a CGI storm trooper or Tom Hanks in Polar Express." Paying careful attention I notice that only slightly above that low point is "wax figure of Nicole Kidman." Tracy is convinced though that he won't fall subject to the valley. He was born to invent a game where "characters get weird with each other for golden points. I'm like Mozart. You're like that guy that was always jealous of Mozart."