Pete finally lands the whale of a client he's been looking for in the form of his delusional old college pal Horace "Ho-Ho" Cook. The guy has a dream to make jai alai the next national pastime, with the help of the Sterling Cooper marketing team. He wants to take one of the sport's rising stars and give him an adventure show that will air on all three networks (in color!) and do print campaigns as well. Don sees that the guys are just happy to milk this fatted calf and his multi-million dollar bankroll, and tries to put a stop to the unseemly and mildly unethical behavior. But even Bert Cooper and Horace Sr. are on board with the waste of money in order to teach Ho-Ho a lesson and give him a reality check.
The team has hit a brick wall with their other big client, Patio. Their commercial director quit, so Sal steps up to the plate. He's delighted, so much so that he does the entire opening number of Bye-Bye Birdie, with dance moves, for his increasingly confused and highly adorable wife. But even after Sal's commercial delivers a lovingly and carefully crafted shot-by-shot recreation of the famed scene, the Patio people don't like it, because they belatedly realize that not every redhead is Ann-Margret.
Peggy has had it with her apartment and her two-hour-a-day commute and decides to move to the city, and while her sister Anita is surprisingly supportive of this decision (if a smidge jealous), Peggy's mom is none too pleased. She tells Peggy in short that she'll be raped if she goes to the city, but she's quieted by the sounds of her new TV. Peggy runs into a smidge of trouble in getting a roommate, when she gets pranked by the ad guys after she places a prim and proper ad on the bulletin board. Thankfully, Joan's around to provide sage advice on how to get a fun, swinging single to move in with her. And that's about all the Joan we get, aside from her killing the insects that escaped from the ant farm after a jai alai incident.
Meanwhile, a very pregnant Betty is having trouble coping with her father and her life in general. Given the fact that Gene's been letting a delighted Sally drive a car and eat ice cream during the day, letting Bobby wear the helmet of a dead German soldier while regaling him with tales of women and "the clap," lecturing Betty about the dangers of smoking (so forward thinking!), telling stories about how Betty used to be fat and generally complaining about her choice in husband, her dismay is understandable. However, Betty's still shocked when Gene collapses and dies at the supermarket. Thankfully, he left very detailed funeral arrangements. Sally's the most obviously distraught, though Betty seems to be suffering a silent pain after losing both of her parents. Still, Sally rips into her parents and aunt and uncle and then is forced to seek comfort in TV.
...before we cut to Peggy's mother Katherine complaining that she just watched fifteen minutes of news and heard "nothing about the Holy Father." Peggy: "He's still dead, Ma." She's still in a very good place, at least with respect to being hilarious. After her mother complains about her TV not working, Anita emerges from mopping and other household chores, and Peggy bitches to her about her belief that her super has been sneaking into her apartment in order to pay her inappropriate, if tame, attention. Anita, who appears to have let go of any Peggy-related jealousy or animosity from last season, says she would offer a room, but their mother took her only spare. Which is fine with Peggy, as it turns out, given that she drops her voice and confides in her sister that she wants to move to Manhattan. Anita thinks that's so far to go, but Peggy informs her that that's the point -- she commutes almost two hours every weekday, and it's wearing on her. Anita gets that, but points out that the rents in Manhattan are "outrageous" (let's talk in forty-five years, honey); Peggy counters that she'll get a roommate and will save a lot on subway and cab money. Anita doesn't need any further convincing to get an upgrade on her vicarious living through her sister, and with a mixture of apprehension and awe, asks if Peggy's going to be one of "those girls." Peggy, with an answering smile: "I am one of those girls." Well, not quite, but last week helped. As will your upcoming talk with Joan, not that that's a surprise.
In the SC conference room, Pete tells a man of his approximate age this: "I observed your wishes for secrecy, but now is the time." Considering the man in question was once Pyro from X2: X-Men United but has since lost a battle with a proto-self-tanner, the consequence of which seems to be that he's been forced to sport a horrendous ascot and go by the name of "Ho-Ho" for the rest of his life, if he wanted to keep his appearance a secret, I can understand why. Anyway, Bronzo gives his audience (Sal, Paul, Harry, and Pryce) many suitably dramatic pauses on his way to telling them that he wants them to advertise jai alai, which in seven years, he says, will eclipse baseball. Seeing Paul's eyebrows head straight for Jupiter, he adds, "Go ahead. You can laugh." I'm not sure I agree -- the fact that they're currently not all on the floor suggests a serious deficiency in their collective ability. He goes on to pitch the fronton and its seating as positives before getting to some good-looking guy he says is the best jai alai player around (no idea whether he's fictional or not, and don't care.) "I'm terrified of him catching balls in the face." Proving this show's ability to resist the cheap laugh, we do not cut to Sal at this point. However, the laughs are coming regardless, as Bronzo, upon hearing that most of the advertising budget will go toward television, expresses his desire to have the hot jai alai player on TV -- not just on a sports show, and not merely on one network. "Like when the President addresses the nation? Tuesday night, eight-thirty to nine -- all three networks, the same show." But unlike when the President addresses the nation, I think it's safe to say there will be bipartisan agreement that it sucks. The best part is Pete's shit-eating grin on how much money they'll be getting just to indulge Bronzo's delusions, and when Bronzo goes on that no one's ever done the simul-network broadcast, Harry starts to point out one of the fifty-three reasons why that might be, but upon seeing Pete's Cheshire Cat impression, amends his statement to, "That's true." Heh. Paul, realizing that he's a supporting player in the motion picture Bronzo's Millions, offers the idea of a big, splashy, Desi-Arnaz-starring musical followed by a jai alai match, and all the other junior players join in as Pryce licks his lips in a very British way, that is to say figuratively. Just when it looks like they might mortgage Bronzo's ascot to up the advertising budget, however, Don enters the room. He seems politely bemused by the spectacle of Bronzo at first, but upon hearing Bronzo commit a million bucks to SC's efforts, which he says is only a third of his ad budget, Don looks like he's moving from skeptical to somewhat horrified. Pete, however, has no such reservations: "As they used to say at the freshman mixer, when you get a yes, you go home." I'm thinking Pete got used to late nights out until Trudy came along.