In the control room, Casey is getting a lecture from Dana, who is droning on and on about how well she knows him and what he likes and it's discouraging to find out he's been taking it for granted. He denies that, and then fishes for a way out by suggesting that, because Dana is so good at her job and Sally is not...well, he never really gets to finish his explanation, but he does use the word "dichotomy." When she cuts him off, he says that Dana's jealousy of Sally doesn't have as much to do with Sally's professional acumen as Dana would have him believe. Dana scoffs as Casey starts extolling the physical wonders of Sally and says, "It's hard not to notice that the woman's body was put together by a technician very close to God." Dana can't believe Casey thinks she's jealous of Sally's body. Casey says it's that, and also that "she's going to be whispering in my ear for thirty minutes." So Dana informs him of all the things that Casey won't like in the rundown, like three straight highlights without a break for a feature, she's using cameras two and three as Casey's primaries, Dan's doing soccer, and two of Casey's intros contain puns. Okay, that last one is just sick. Casey looks stricken. "Puns?" he groans. Oh ho! The tables are turned! Casey is now begging Dana to help him, but she's prepared to let him twist, and takes off. Casey yells, "Sally!" and runs off, tripping and breaking his nose. Well, not really, but I can dream, can't I?

Back to the poker game. This hand is down to Isaac, Jeremy, and Natalie. Dan asks Dana if she gave Casey a talking-to. She says she did. Natalie breaks her concentration to defend Casey, but Dana says "bonding!" so Natalie dumps all over Casey. You go, girlfriend. Then Dana asks Jeremy a question for the sole purpose of telling him to shut up as soon as he starts to answer. Anyway, Jeremy bets $50. Isaac folds. It's down to just Jeremy and Natalie in one of the most unexpected plot twists this episode has yet taken. Well, except for the "unexpected" and "twist" parts. Natalie raises the bet $50, and suddenly my dollar-a-hole golf games and $2 Sport Select bets don't seem like such the vices anymore. Jeremy warns Natalie that she already owes him a lot of money. "You're basically going to be living the rest of your life on a charitable grant from the Jeremy Goodwin Foundation." Danny gets out his chequebook, thinking this might be a good way to help make a difference. Jeremy tells her to take the $50 back and fold, because she's going to lose again. He's dead serious; he says he has a straight and she's got three sevens, which shouldn't surprise anyone since those are the only hands either of them have gotten. She thinks he's bluffing. "How do you know I don't have a big house?" she says. "Full house," corrects Jeremy dryly. Natalie seems a little baffled, probably because she hasn't had to remove an article of clothing after every hand, unlike her good times with the frat boys. "I want you to trust me right now," says Jeremy. Ugh, here comes the diatribe. He lays bare the multiple (two) levels of meaning in this poker hand as everybody watches. And we find out that Natalie has no reason to ever be jealous of any woman ever, and she can trust him despite the hurt she maybe carries from asshole boyfriends in the past, and -- well, you get the idea. But he's putting this hand to her as a test, that she needs to trust him when he says she has three sevens and he has a straight. Silence as everybody watches this drama play out. Then Natalie says, "You're bluffing so hard it's coming out your ears." Jeremy sighs and tosses in the $50. Natalie: three sevens. Jeremy: a straight. As he rakes in the chips, she tries for the sweetness. "I don't deserve you," she says. "No, you really don't," he says. He looks pissed, as well he should. She grovels, and he tries to stand firm as she suggests that she can go back to his place and accelerate the healing process. He says no, he doesn't think she should be rewarded for her behaviour. Oh, sex with Jeremy constitutes a "reward" for her, does it? Someone thinks highly of himself. Then she pulls out the heavy artillery, suggesting that she could wear one of his dress shirts. He crumbles, and they scoot off. Fuck this.