Tired of standing around outside the restaurant, Hilda finally calls Tony, who answers in "I am with my wife who is standing right here" code, but it takes forever for her to figure it out, and even longer to remember that she's totally being played for a fool.

Daniel and Alexis whirl around and around Wilhelmina like scary snakes, taking potshots at her editrix style, calling it "cold" and pointing out that -- even if her "specific vision" wasn't something Alexis was going to grasp -- it was too subtle for everybody else too. Her relaunch issue is one of the lowest sellers in months, and she's getting bumped back down to Creative Director so that Daniel can come back in as EIC. Claire, Alexis and Daniel get right the fuck up in her face and it is amazing. Betty whispers to Mark that she knows he set up everything, the letters and whatnot, to get back with Wili, and he says he would never do anything against Wilhelmina's interests ... Unless they were going against his own. They both grin kind of affectionately away from each other and take sips of champagne; Betty's is white, and his is black. She's impressed with his style.

It's not Wili that owns a third of the business, but her spooky baby. Claire goes a little Clairiffic and knocks over an ice sculpture, daring Wili to threaten her children ever again: "You have no idea of the lengths I'll go to protect them."

Man, I'm glad that ice sculpture wasn't carrying a demon heir to the Meade fortune!

Daniel grabs Betty and thanks her for her faith in him; she plays it off of course because that's what friends are for. Of course, he needs to know she's coming back to him yet again, and she needles him about the raise Wili gave her. It's more like, "Look how cute" than actually cute, but then there's nothing more comforting than status quo, which is right back where we're at.

Christina waddles around in a crazy kimono with pumping music that tells you something is about to happen, and then things go slo-mo so you know something's going to happen, then the elevator won't come so she goes into the stairwell. Then a known drug-user with a criminal history of violence and mannequin- or statue-pushing shoves her down the stairs, and she lays there all crumpled and shocking. Man, I hope that drunken Scottish girl without a storyline wasn't carrying the... oh, crap.