Down at stage level, Alex is fleeing the set as Harriet tries to tell him he "stuck it." He sighs that he "pushed it." Harriet is on her way to a sketch of her own and runs into Simon, and they once again talk about Tom's brother and what they should do. Simon says he checked Tom's email, and there was nothing from Mark since three days ago. He...read Tom's email? I know his intentions were good, but: dude, no. Harriet thinks they have to tell him, but once again, Simon says not to do it during the show.
Jordan approaches Danny by his director's perch on the floor. The lighting and the shaplelessness of the coat Jordan simply refuses to take off combine to make it look like she's wearing a bathrobe. Classy. She starts to tell him that Jack's been hassling her upstairs, and Danny says to tell Jack to shut up and watch the show. Jordan attempts to explain that in the real world, you kind of have to do what the boss tells you. Danny asks what world he lives in, then. Oh, you don't want to leave that question open-ended, sir. Even Jordan says she'll tell him later, which is code for "the world of 'I'm the last true artist and hate all practical concerns.'" Danny correctly surmises that this is about the ratings, but Jordan wants to discuss it later, though she does say that she asked him not to open with a sketch about the war. Because he is a true marvel of smugness, Danny manages to look both puzzled and superior as Jordan walks off.
Matt's office, where Matt is once again simmering within his own heart of darkness. Jack enters and hounds around for some scotch. Man, if this show had gone a second season, I guarantee you Jack would have ended up Albrechting someone. Or at the very least calling someone "sugar tits" in a Glenfiddich haze. So Jack starts talking about how he bought 5% of a technology company today. The company produces software (called "Standing O," as best as Jack can recall) that can analyze TV shows and ratings info to determine the perfect mechanical way to create a TV show that will get high ratings. Jack says it's similar to what a product like Platinum Blue does with songs. Believe it or not, Matt is horrified at the idea that a soulless computer program could have anything at all to say about the creative process. So once again. Jack plays the cipher for soulless corporate America as we all recoil in horror at such an obviously terrible idea. Jack looks desperate, a little unhinged, and maybe already drunk as he touts what this program could do for, oh let's say, a sketch comedy show. Matt evenly explains that ratings are cyclical and nobody knows why people do or do not tune in. It's a mystery! Why, a show could be perfectly good and important and smart and funny and compelling and still it would barely be able to beat out What About Brian? on Mondays. For example. Jack's all, "Food for thought," as he weaves his way out of Matt's office.