As they enter their office, David pauses to tell Rick that Miles is already there. "How can you tell?" Rick asks, sniffing the air. David points to Miles's ever-present female lackey, who's perched in front of her laptop. "Her...You know what she's got in there, don't you?" he asks, pointing to the laptop. "Launch codes." Ha! David made a funny. It may very well be the first time I've laughed with him and not at him. Rick greets Miles, who's busily setting himself up near the model of his building. "Rick, young David," Miles says, "you're not late. I'm early." He then proceeds to drone on nasally about the shortcomings of architectural renderings: they lack context. He muses that while the building you see blows you away, it's easy to forget that "the clouds were airbrushed in, and they neglected to mention the nail salon next door." From the way he says "nail salon," it's clear that Miles isn't a manicure man, which I find a little surprising. Then again, he probably gets his lackeys to do his nails for him. Rick says, "Real buildings stand in the real world, Miles." David stands with his back to Miles. "What do you suppose we could do about that?" Miles wonders. "About what?" Rick asks. "Reality," Miles says. "Drugs?" David deadpans, flipping through a binder. Okay, that's two. If he keeps it up, I'm maybe going to have to start thinking about hating David just a little bit less than I do. Maybe. "Always so close to clever," Miles replies. David thanks him with mock sincerity. Rick looks uncomfortable.
And then David hops up on the old Soliloquy Stool (except it's a chair this time, but "chair" would have ruined the alliteration) to give us a big ol' shout-out. Okay, deep down, I know it's not a shout-out, but I'm having a craptastic day, so let me savor my imaginary bone, okay? Anyway, David confesses, "Everybody tells me I need to work on my people skills. I think I'm being direct; they say I'm a pain in the ass. But this thing with Miles Drentell -- it's different." David looks agitated.
Back at the office. Miles's male lackey wheels away the model on its table, clearing the way for Miles to announce, "Gentlemen, there need to be some changes." "Changes?" David says, working himself up for the confrontation. He removes and folds his jacket. "You'll need to adjust your mind to a new scale. Otherwise, my building will seem out of place," Miles declares. In the corner of the screen, the male lackey assumes the position, standing much like a soldier at ease. Imagine for a minute what Miles's corporate environment must be like. Creepy. Rick, arms folded, informs Miles that the building "is appropriate to the context." "The context is about to change," Miles monotones. That line was so much more ominous when it was out of context. Many thanks to ABC's promo department for keeping us on our toes.