And then the phone rings again with Jordan by the pool. Jordan looks at the phone, sees that it's Danny, and sends him to voicemail. Danny pretends he can't tell he's on voicemail, and continues his Mr. Pushypants routine, saying it's been the new year for her for three hours and he wants a report, or something. She is, for whatever reason, looking at a picture of herself and Danny, which looks to have kicked around in the bottom of a bag unattended for quite some time, given its beat-up state. In other words, she hasn't been saving it, she seems to have stumbled across it. The concept of Jordan carrying around a print of herself sitting at a table with Danny is nonsensical at this point -- why does she have it with her in St. Lucia? We've been given nothing, character-wise, that would explain that. It's apparently there for editing purposes, as it turns out that -- guess what! -- Danny is sitting at his computer, looking at the same picture. But he's not thinking about whether he should give it to the police in the event he disappears later, like she is. Instead, Danny is at work, and Cal -- who didn't need to show his corporeal self this week, apparently -- is on the intercom telling people to get going. Danny decides to take a break from stalking, adding as he walks out of the room, "At least I'm back on television." Random senseless line? Shout-out to holiday hiatus? Shout-out to Sorkin's longer hiatus? General comment on how great it is just being on television? I do not know.

We return to the NBS offices, where Jordan is welcoming someone named Hallie to a meeting in her office. (You'll notice that Sorkin's women generally have either gender-nonspecific names like "Jordan" or "Sydney" or "C.J.," or else they have cute, diminutive-sounding, little-girl names like "Hallie" and "Zoey" and "Sally." The ones towards whom he has deep-seated hostilities have awkward, obsolete, prudish names like "Harriet" and masculine nicknames like "Harry.") Hallie is a lovely blonde, clearly shot through with evil. Jordan walks her into the office anyway, "welcoming" her to the company. As Jordan sits down,absently staring at a paper because she's too good to give her full attention to a meeting with a new VP, Hallie says she thinks they should be up front about the fact that Hallie wasn't Jordan's first choice for the job. Jordan says that she begs to differ -- she actually didn't want the job to exist at all. If you don't know at this moment that Hallie's job has to do with reality shows, then you do not get to cover that square on your Axe-Grinding Bingo card. "You're not a big fan of unscripted TV," Hallie says. "No," Jordan says, as if she's been asked if she'd like syphilis for her birthday. "I hope I can change that," Hallie says personably. "Dare to dream," Jordan says sarcastically, because apparently, she's already decided to be as nasty as she possibly can to this woman, who has literally done not one objectionable thing up to this point. Incidentally, Jordan continues reading whatever she's reading the entire time, refusing to even make eye contact. "Have you asked yourself why?" Hallie asks. Now, Jordan looks at Hallie enough to derisively snort, as if this is a stupid question, "Why I don't like reality TV?" Hallie confirms, and Jordan confirms in turn that she has, in fact, never given any thought to why she -- the president of a network -- doesn't like, as an entire genre, unscripted television. "I think you've only been exposed to the bad ones," Hallie says, leaking straw out of her shoulders and wrists. "I guess so," Jordan says, now back to reading her papers again. Hallie points out that The Ed Sullivan Show was unscripted, and Jordan says that not all reality television features Elvis and the Beatles. Wow, great argument. In other news, not all comedies are The Mary Tyler Moore Show. Some are Two And A Half Men. Comedies suck! Hallie gives Jordan an undeserved "touché" for her paper-thin "Elvis/Beatles" argument, and Jordan gets even bitchier by saying, "Gesundheit."