Now we join our three leading ladies at lunch. Crisis, schmisis -- BFFs always have time for a sit-down lunch together, right? Wendy wallows in misery over the nanny book (which Victory is skimming for references to herself), and over her husband's failure to be outraged by same. "Everyone that knows you knows that you're a great mother," says Victory (can the characters please agree to call her "Vicky," so I can, too?). Nico thinks that Wendy should "kill" the book by dropping in on Mariska, advising, "Burn a green card in her face." Nice. Victory wants to order wine and talk about her own business problems. "It's called a transition," says Wendy. "Downsizing to a smaller office is a transition," Victory replies. "Making dresses in your kitchen is called Mildred Pierce." Ha! That line seems too smart for Victory, but still -- oh, show, you've found my weakness. "I thought she made pies," says movie-exec Wendy, who would know. Victory doesn't care. Wendy thinks Victory should go take a walk, for inspiration...
...but Vic opts for sitting on her couch watching an old movie instead of going outdoors. (Not that there's anything wrong with that; in fact, this may be the only time I'll ever identify with Victory.) The movie she's watching is not Mildred Pierce, alas, but it still looks more absorbing than this storyline. And I bet there will be less whining. Inspired by the snappy 1930s banter on the screen, Victory picks up her pad and starts sketching. And tearing out pages. And drinking wine, pulling faces, and tearing out more pages. We watch her do this for a long while; eventually it seems like she's ripping out pages she hasn't even written on yet. Somebody needs a new set of Fashion Plates!
Nico arrives back at the office, where her assistant (Tony Award winner Adriane Lenox, everybody!) tells her that Patty's concept boards are ready. "Shit is in the bessinger," she says, and I have to rewatch a few times before I figure out she's trying to say, "Should I send a messenger?" No need to worry about that enunciation, because Nico barely hears her. At the mention of Patty's studio, she's overcome by another series of adulterous-sex flashbacks. She turns on her powerful heels and announces that she'll go downtown to pick up the boards herself.
Kirby's alone at the studio when Nico gets there. "Want to see what we've come up with?" he asks, but what he means is, "Want to see me naked?" and it's not really a question. Kirby quickly strips off his clothes, inviting Nico to "picture Prince Willy-boy's head, but on a much hotter body." Wow, there's nothing hotter than an immensely self-regarding man. Kirby reclines so that Nico can get a better view of his naked body (which, of course, we see only from the waist up). He dismisses her "I came down here on business" story -- which, to his credit, is bullshit -- and they start getting it on.