After credits/commercials, Jeannie hops through the studio all high-fives and smiles. Lilly tells her that she went fifteen seconds long on "Commedia," which Jeannie attributes to people unexpectedly laughing at it. It's a testament to how much I like Jeannie that I don't begrudge her success even on something as lame and fake-intellectual as "Commedia Dell'arte." Seriously, it hurts even to type it. She bounds down the stairs and apologizes to Harriet, because those extra fifteen seconds had to be shaved off "News 60," which I'm sure is just as well since there was probably a joke about beet farmers that Harriet wouldn't have read anyway. Harriet doesn't really care at this point, since she just minutes ago almost kissed Matt outside his office. "I nearly had a Matt relapse," says Harriet, "but I'm fine." She says that, with Darren Wells coming to the wrap party and Danny trying to fix Matt up with "cocktail waitresses," things should be back to normal in no time. And I don't mean to burst her bubble, but "cocktail waitress" is likely the highest on the floozy food chain Danny's going to be reaching for Matt tonight. Jeannie asks Harriet about Darren, who she says is the "anti-Matt." This means that he's "not snide, he's not smug, he's not superior, he goes to church..." Oh, dude. This guy is so being set up for the fall. Overt praise like that can only lead to revelations of kiddie porn and peeing on the homeless in the near future. It's the only way Harriet will learn to appreciate the smug values that make our nation great. Or, as Jeannie helpfully pipes in, it means that Darren Wells is unburdened by things like thoughts. Harriet says that he thinks about things, though just what exactly is something she'll have to discover tonight. "In the meantime, you've got the muscles," says Jeannie. Yikes. This could get ugly. Nun-raping, bunny-torturing ugly, you understand?
Still beaming, Jeannie exits and crosses Simon, who wants his fifteen seconds back. Simon then runs across Tom and says that Simon and Matt are going to the Improv tonight to check out a guy (hottt...), and would Tom like to join them (...tt!)? Tom can't because, he agonizes, his parents have come to visit. Simon wants to meet them, and at another burst of angst from Tom, he says that "twenty-seven is too old to have mommy and daddy issues." It's also way too young to get all Cranky Grandpa about the internet and Strindberg, but that's Tom for you. Tom says that his parents don't know what he does for a living. Simon: "They alive?" Tom: "Well, they live in Columbus, Ohio, so: barely." Well. Somebody's not getting his gift basket of Buckeye paraphernalia this Christmas. Tom says that he's going to give his parents a tour of the studio -- and, careful you don't overload their Ohio-dulled senses there, party boy -- and then at the end of the night, he guarantees that his dad is going to ask him if he needs any money: "And it's gonna take everything I've got not to point out to him that I could buy his house four times and turn it into my ping-pong room." Wow, is Tom kind of a dick? Isn't your dad offering you money when you don't need it anymore pretty endearing and dad-like? I mean, the only way Tom's snobby-ass attitude here could be justified is if his parents were just unbelievably ignorant and douchebaggy. But that'd be too easy an out for such a brilliantly written show, right? What do you mean, "stop pretending you haven't seen the rest of the episode"?