Speaking of which, the bellhop from the elevator is on the air conditioner case, and once he gets it running, Sal digs in his pocket for a tip, and you can just make your own joke about the bellhop taking over that particular duty. Yes, before you know it, the bellhop has invaded Sal's personal space, and they are very quickly making out. The guy is a lot speedier at getting his uniform top off than Blondie was, and when he goes for Sal's pants, Bryan Batt does a great job of sounding like he's about to hyperventilate. Either that, or they had a pretty hilarious ADR session. The guy, who is really quite cute, gets Sal on the bed and reaches a hand down into his boxers, and given my guess that Sal is a virgin with men I did not expect this to last long, but while I turn out to be correct, it's not for the reason I expected, as the fire alarm suddenly starts ringing. Sal looks panicked, like, "Did I set that off?" I wouldn't rule it out.
Don, who lost his shirt since we last saw him, tosses some clothes at Blondie, who's in the bed, and tells her they need to go. God, a fire alarm when you're hammered and half-dressed. Will the college memories never fade? Seriously, though, the last two times I stayed in a hotel the fire alarm went off, and there were people still sauntering out of the hotel like twenty minutes later. This particular scene is not exactly verité. The two of them head out the window onto the fire escape...
...and on the way down, Don sees Sal getting himself together and urgently knocks and tells him to come on. Sal catches flies, knowing something huge is about to happen and being powerless to stop it, and when the bellhop comes running in from off-camera, Don looks like he's seen a ghost. And this is a man who didn't bat an eye when he saw a vision of his dead mother giving birth to him. Don and Blondie, who didn't see a thing, get going again...
...and down on the street, Don's and Sal's eyes meet uncertainly as fire trucks are on the scene and the bellhop tells the crowd that everything's okay. Which is kind of insensitive of him, given that his new boyfriend's world has just been turned upside down.
The next morning, Peggy strides into the SC lobby and joins Joan, who's waiting for the elevator. After some small talk about how Joan doesn't ride the subway (nod to her rich doctor husband, assuming they did get married?), Peggy tries to complain about Lola always being late, but Joan counters that she's not at work yet. Peggy fails to read the room, though, and goes on in this vein until she mentions Lola flirting with, hilariously referring to Hooker, "Moneypenny" all the time. Joan snaps that Hooker hates that name, which: The point, my dear. Peggy asks if she's defending him, but Joan seethes, "He's repellent. Reminds me of a doorman." I've known plenty of wonderful doormen, particularly those that put up with me when I was in my twenties and had far too many late nights, but I certainly agree with the first part. Peggy takes this as a cue to start bitching again, which seems rather unlike her, and Joan sighs in frustration that she'll be so glad to be out of that place soon. That makes one of us in the whole world, my dear. Well, two, if you count Paul. Peggy replies that that's very comforting. Joan: "There's nothing I can do."
After congratulating Pete, Hildy tells him that Pryce called a meeting for the Heads of Accounts. Noticing the extra "S" in there causes Pete's blood to freeze, and when she clarifies that the meeting is for him and Ken, he practically snarls, "What are you talking about?" Go back a few pages, Pete. It's all there.
London Fog meeting. Don tells the clients, an older and younger man, that he's there as a reminder of SC's "continuity of service," and even with Burt Peterson gone, they're on SC's mind. Sal then enters, and after he apologizes for being late, the old guy explains to the young man that Sal is "the guy with the marker who always does what I say." Hard to think Don isn't hearing innuendos after last night. Old Geezer says he can't remember -- does Sal have a family? Eesh, that one was an unsubtle clanker for this show. Why not just ask if he enjoys the warm embrace of the vagina? Sal says he has a wife, and Don gives a hilarious inscrutable smile before Geezer offers to have the kid take them on a tour. The young man, though, as it happens, is Geezer's son and apparently a new addition to the company, and he stops them, saying Geezer is very concerned about the business at the moment. "Dad is worried that everyone who is ever going to buy a raincoat already has one." Sal quotes Balzac as a counterargument, which is better than that ridiculous fear deserves, and Geezer guffaws, "Balzac, huh? You are not Burt Peterson." Heh, but I've heard enough bad gay puns involving Balzac over the years to think the writers weren't going as highbrow as it seems here. Anyway, Don basically tells Geezer and Son to get over their moronic fears, although he does it with verbiage that merits the high salary he commands, and just like that, they're taking the tour. Well, that was worth the price of the flight.
In the conference room, Joan is reading off a list of all their accounts, splitting them down the middle so half go to Ken and the other half to Pete, and it's nice to notice that a large number of them have been mentioned on the show before. Ken grins at Pete through all this like he's thrilled they're going to be running the show together, while Pete isn't letting the fact that he doesn't have heat vision stop him from trying to burn Ken to a crisp with his eyes. The other people on hand are Harry and Pryce, and when Utz goes to Pete, Ken asks why, so Harry tells him that some of the dividing was done on accounts, but some was on relationships, "and you figure out what happened with Utz." I think Ken's maybe getting unfairly blamed there, particularly since it was a combination of Lois and Don's efforts that resulted in Mrs. Schilling failing to be properly shielded from Jimmy (and Ken's mom is even "heavyset"!), but I can't deny that keeping that as a distant memory is probably the way to go. Pete, trying to figure out how many people he needs to add to his shotgun list, asks Harry if he decided "all this," but Harry responds that "while forty-two cents of every dollar at this agency is spent in the Television Department," he made the decision jointly with Pryce. Pete then whines that Peggy's name is all over his accounts, but Pryce ignores him and announces that they're each taking half the company. "'Course, it's possible someone could distinguish themselves." That someone isn't you -- didn't they teach you proper grammar at whatever snooty academy you attended? Pryce adds that it would be easier that way, practically braining them each with the gauntlet, but Ken's still too ecstatic to notice, while Pete's lower lip is threatening to lay waste to everything in its path. Outside, Pete grabs Ken and notes that if he's upset, he's hiding it well. Ken basically asks what's up Pete's ass, and Pete is like, why would you even take the job, since you're no good. That's literally his dis -- "You're no good." Wow, Pete. That shit is weak. Ken points out the obvious, that Pryce or whoever is pulling the strings from across the pond wants them to hate each other, and he's not going to play. Pete, however, lashes out some more, causing Ken to simply walk away in genuine bewilderment. Honestly, of all the people at this company, Ken's the one I could see hating just about the least. You know, if you're male and heterosexual.
On the plane home, Don's resting his eyes while Sal looks like someone awaiting a lethal injection. Presently, Don wakes up and asks what time it is, and when Sal tells him one-fifteen, notes that they should be back in the office by three. Sal's like, you're going back to the office? It does seem a bit odd, but maybe he's still catching up fro