Danny tells Matt that, along with the slammin' bod, they need Martha more than she needs them because of her alpha consumers. Matt just goes along, because he's Danny's butt-boy. Danny asks him to breakfast, and Matt declines. Danny asks about the bat, and Matt once again explains the story behind it. I trust you listened the first fifty times around, so I won't repeat it here. Matt picks up his bat and starts swinging it mightily. This is not a euphemism. Anyway, Matt's complaining about writing and having to make something funny happen when he sits down in his chair, bat still slung over his shoulder. The bat smashes into the plate glass window behind Matt's chair and shatters into a million billion pieces. Danny's all, "Well, you're the best!" and walks out. The glass becomes its own neverending gag, intermittently falling out of the frame in big chunks, as Matt slooooowly turns his chair around to survey the damage. Glass wins!
We get a shot of Studio 60 at night as a caption helpfully tells us that it's "Friday Night." Inside, the energy level is ramping up. Simon is in Matt's office talking about how great Harriet's Juliette Lewis sketch is. Matt says it's going to work fine until she gets too many laughs, because then it could cause a time problem. Simon, who is dressed up as a Catholic priest, is like, "Oh, good, let's worry about getting too many laughs now." Matt peers out of the huge space where his window used to be, and remarks that it's true. Aw, at least he put the blinds down. Simon gets to the point about why he's there: he wants Matt to know how much it means to Ricky and Ron that Matt is letting Simon do some of their stuff tonight. Matt compliments Simon on killing with it at dress, looks out the window some more, and then asks Simon if he'd recognize Darren Wells if he saw him. Matt goes off on a rant about how awful a player Darren Wells is, starting with a walk-to-strikeout ratio that could only be impressive in T-ball, and ending with the fact that he once tore a rotator cuff towel-drying his hair (hee!). There was a whole bunch more baseball talk in the middle, but who do you think I am, Sars? Simon reminds Matt that Harriet and Darren have only been out one time. That Simon even knows they went out is news to Matt, who can't believe Simon didn't tell him. Danny walks in: "He probably thought it would distract you. Obviously, he was wrong." Matt tells Danny to shut up, because he's seen the board: the show is done, and it's good. Danny feels that this is beside the point, what with Matt getting stiletto boots signed at the Roxy and memorizing Darren Wells's pitching stats. Matt looks out his window again, and there is Darren Wells, signing autographs and generally being a fine specimen of man. Simon notes that Darren is big. Matt's like, "So what, it's not hard to be big!" Hee. Danny pats Matt on the back: "That's right." Hee. Matt says he'd like to see Darren make the Dean's List eight semesters in a row as a contemporary dramatic lit major. Simon: "Fairy." ["Seriously. What's next, bragging about his SAT scores?" -- Wing Chun] Danny tears himself away from the ex-window and says it's time to start the show. Simon warns Matt to be careful, because there might be windows made of glass down there.
Cut to Jordan in the parking lot, walking to her car. Her assistant Kevin Yu rather creepily catches up to her before she gets in, and hands her a bunch of papers she left in the office. He also informs her that Shelly called to say her ex-husband is going on Geraldo. Excellent. I hope if I ever get rich and famous, all my ex-husbands end up on trashy talk shows, too. Jordan kind of scoffs, "Well, sharks gotta swim, bats gotta fly, I'm gonna get screwed by this man 'til I die." Kevin suggests a pre-emptive strike against the ex -- putting out a release detailing which things he made up and which were true. Jordan says she'd look like an idiot, and prolong the story by commenting, and most of all, she'd help her ex to sell books. Kevin remarks, not unkindly, that she's taking it well. Jordan thanks him and gets ready to head over to Studio 60 to "check on Martha." By which she means "flirt with the cute writer guys."
Over at the studio, the show has begun, and Simon's doing the writers' room editorial. It appears to be going well, because the audience finds it gut-splittingly hilarious. Ricky and Ron watch proudly from backstage. Even Danny's laughing in the control room! This is the funniest shit ever, you guys! Jordan finds Matt, all cutely suited up, sitting in a random stairwell listening to the broadcast on headphones. She asks what he's doing, and he's all, "I'm listening. It helps if I hear the voices. You wouldn't understand." She doesn't care, and trots past him up the steps.
The news is over, and the crowd goes wild. Timothy Busfield -- who I love to such a degree that I'm tempted to call him "Daddy," except that would be really weird -- gets on the phone with Danny and reports that everything's going fine. Danny is sitting with Christine Lahti and Her Large Boobs. When Timothy (a.k.a. "Cal") asks how Matt's liking the show, Danny mutters, "Dunno. He's in love." Danny hangs up, and Martha eyes him knowingly. Oops!
Backstage, Simon tells Ricky and Ron that their stuff killed. He's so excited. Ricky and Ron wonder if maybe Simon could mention to Matt how much he liked it. Simon says (heh) that it's not going to matter if Simon liked it; it only matters if Matt liked it. Ricky tells Ron that they should be overseeing the news. Simon's all, "One show at a time, man. Y'all better be grateful he gave you ninety seconds." Ricky, of course, isn't grateful, but Simon insists that they should be proud. They're not.
Over in Danny's office, Martha is absorbed in something on her laptop as Danny crows, "That's how we do it downtown, baby!" Martha says she can't get involved in her own story, but that there's something he needs to see. Apparently, she was surfing the net to get real-time reaction to the show, and found a clip of a comic at a club that was taped the year before. Dun dun dun! Martha hits play on the video, and the comic starts doing Simon's editorial. Uh oh! Danny gets very serious, and then gets on the magical phone that needs no dialing: "It's Danny. Let the audience go, but no one else leaves the building. I need Jordan McDeere, I need Legal, I need the broadcast center. We've got a problem." Draaaaama! Commercials.
Meanwhile, Matt is charging through the building on his way to kick someone's ass. Nate follows pathetically, all, "What the hell are you doing? Where are you going?" Why, he's going to talk to Harriet, he says. He got some good advice from one of the Bombshell Babies, and he's going to put it to use. Nate, along with the rest of the world, thinks this is a bad idea. Someone rushes over and tells Matt that he's needed upstairs. Matt pauses to argue with Nate before he goes. Nate is out of control, yelling that Matt can't do this, it's just because he's full of adrenaline from the show, for God's sake, it's like a free Strindberg festival in the park! Hee. Matt says thatthis has nothing to do with Strindberg, and starts heading for Harriet again. Someone else tells Matt that they're waiting for him upstairs. Matt barks that he'll be up in a minute, and keeps on going. Interminably chattery Nate sticks to Matt like an ineffectual remora, and so is right there when Matt swings Harriet's dressing room door open to find her sucking face with Darren Wells. Matt gapes and backs away slowly, right into a prop suit of armor. Matt, you dummy! Now she knows you saw