But then Derek gets a call about Michael Riedel's column in the Post, which prompts him to storm into Eileen's office, past Ellis (whom he refers to as "the Chihuahua," because Derek and I are soul mates) to bellow about how she was scheming with Doug Hughes. Eileen reads Derek the riot act and demands he commit to the show. Which he does. That Ellis could witness this exchange and still think he has what it takes to manipulate Eileen just proves what a delusional little cupcake he is.
And yet! He meets Rebecca Duvall's assistant at the hotel with a CD of Marilyn songs, and proceeds to make himself right at home, then summons all his chipmunk courage and propositions the assistant. Clearly the writers were going for "amoral bisexual social climber" with Ellis's character, but they seem to have juuuuuust missed it and landed on "Aw, isn't he cute, trying to derail multi-million-dollar contracts." But Rebecca's assistant seems interested.
Backstage at Heaven on Earth, the stage manager is freaking out because Ivy's missing. She's all angel-ed up, in her dressing room, and high as a kite. And even though the stage manager sees her stumble past him, giggling hysterically on whatever cocktail of mood-altering substances she's ingested, he lets her go onstage. Don't shows usually have swings or understudies for just such an occasion as "Featured Player Gets Off Her Nut on Happy Pills"? Apparently not a Levitt-Houston show. Ivy proceeds to blow all her choreography before face-planting right in the middle of the stage. And who's there to witness it? Pasty nemesis Karen, who's showed up to return Ivy's sunglasses. Oh, if only Ivy would stumble into Norbert's dressing room and bludgeon Karen with his Tony.
Instead, Karen chases Ivy -- who's still in full angel drag -- out into the street, where they act out the continuing power imbalances of the workshop star vs. the chorus girl, and when Ivy accuses Karen of not trying hard enough to land the role, Karen jabs back that she refused to sleep with Derek for the role. "You weren't the first choice," she says, and you can tell she thinks she's landed a major blow. Ivy shrugs it off and says that her mother said worse than that, and of course used to beat her with xylophone bars until she could sing the entire score of Funny Girl, complete with comical Yiddishisms.