Justin says it doesn't have to be expensive, because he read in Vanity Fair one time about how cheap is the new chic. Which... "I heard about this trend one time" is not the most effective way to make your point, because that issue of VF could have come out during any of the three depressions the Bush family has handed us over the years, but not this one yet. Ignacio is like, "I'll make mole!" and Hilda fabulously says they should do sangria: "Cheap wine, old fruit, box of sugar? People get drunk, they don't care." She shoots a belated "drinking's bad" memo Justin's way, and he blows her off, yelling that they should have a South Of The Border theme. "Tacky Mexican stuff is so kitschy!" he says, and they all stare at him, because nobody knows if that's offensive to say, and he's like, "I can say that because it's my heritage." I guess so. Mostly it just sounds totally stupid and if I was confronted at a rooftop party by a South Of The Border theme, I would jump. Betty calls them a Snow Day, and says it's a good thing, because Jesse's dumbness is already infecting her.
Marc asks if Connor cried when Wili confronted him with the big folder of secrets Marc put together, and if Connor possibly is in need of a comforting hug, which is code language. Wili tells him to fuck off, stop asking questions, and do what she says. Marc is shocked. Connor comes in and she's all flirty about how her "door" is "always open" because she cannot help herself, and Connor asks how dinner was, confusing Marc. She's like, "Fun! Delightful! Thanks for asking!" Connor leaves to go sell everybody's ass down the river, and Marc's like, "You don't even eat dinner. You are a lying crush-haver! You haven't saluted anybody since Cheney! You have fallen to Connor like everyone else here!" Wili says she is not like those other women, ruled by emotion, and Marc delicately tries to explain that sometimes it's okay to "feel ... something" and she informs him that this is incorrect (this whole scene Marc is wearing a tie that says lovelovelovelovelove, wonderfully) and that ambition always wins over feelings, which is how she became Wilhelmina Slater, which is why she's awesome.
Marc tiptoes around to avoid Cliff, but it doesn't work, and Cliff is like, "Dude, three days we haven't talked, after a very important question?" Marc babbles about how with the nonstop blackmailing, backstabbing, and Pinkberry runs, he hasn't had time to take the curlers out of his hair. And I was wrong before, because Marc knows exactly what he's doing when he queens out like this, and the reason that I know that is that the next thing he does is literally turn his back on Cliff and ask if he's still got curlers back there, which is sort of bizarrely non sequitur, but also, come on, pretty genius at the same time. Cliff is not distracted, though, and flips Marc back around to ask what the effing problem is with even discussing the idea. Marc spazzes out about how moving in is like getting a kid, do you go Russian or Chinese or "stay local" and get something South American and what if it clashes with the furniture... Cliff tells him to forget it because that's his answer, and walks off. NO! Because that's not even the actual answer, because the actual answer is one more layer of BS behind that, which is that he's thought about it, hard and independently of discussing it with Cliff, and doesn't know how to have the conversation they're actually supposed to be having. Which is both better and worse than where Cliff left it, I guess, but makes Marc's position here a little more sympathetic.