Sal and Peggy show the artwork and slogan to Don, who's unimpressed. He points out a child in the drawing, and suggests it be the focus. Peggy takes a rather defiant tone and tells him that sex sells, but Don is up to the challenge of showing for the 5,398th time why he's the boss as he informs her that people who say that think that a monkey could do their jobs, but that's not the case. He picks up the Valentine on this desk and tosses it on top of the drawing: "You are the product. You, feeling something -- that's what sells. Not them. Not sex." Peggy, however unwilling she was to start, has been listening raptly, and Svengali... I mean, "Don" concludes his Minute of Mentoring by adding, "They can't do what we do. And they hate us for it." After giving it a little thought, Peggy comes up with a slogan that satisfies her boss, and Sal doesn't need any further prompting to get the hell out of there.
Peggy discovers that the office she's already sharing is now home to the Xerox machine. Ha! No matter what rules and regulations she may have cited to Lois, Joan takes care of her girls. The trumpet of That's What You Get For Not Remembering Where You Come From plays jauntily.
Don is on the elevator when two douchebag guys get on and start talking grossly about some female co-worker of theirs, and don't stop when a woman gets on. Seeing her obvious discomfort, Don, in an oblique way of getting them to show some manners and respect in front of the woman, orders one of the dicks to take his hat off. Not knowing when a man means business, they gape slack-jawed, so Don removes the one man's hat for him. He doesn't shove it up the guy's ass, but then,there is a lady present.
At night, Betty's car dies on a dark road, and she flags down the next driver and asks her to stop at the Esso station and call for a tow truck.
Don arrives home, and Carla tells him that Betty just went to pick up Sally from ballet. Don offers to drive her to the station, but she tells him she's fine walking. I'd complain that that might be dangerous, except given that she hesitates before answering so we can all get a good close-up of the three fingers of rye Don's pouring, she probably thinks she's picking the lesser of two evils here. I'm thinking this is foreshadowing Don (or someone) having a drunk-driving accident at some point. It's not like I wish ill on the characters but it would still be about frickin' time. Once Carla's gone, Bobby, Don's son, says he doesn't want any more of his dinner, so Don takes it over.