Betty says they have to give the museum a full page next month, and the two bodyguards of the tiara have to remain within twenty feet the whole time Wili's got it. Wilhelmina, impressed, bestows on Betty the honor of injecting a needle of botulism into her face. Lucky! At the chaise, Betty wonders aloud what we've all been asking, which is: wouldn't a better person for this duty be a doctor? "Or at least a nurse practitioner?" I don't know why, but that cracked me up. Wili admits, hilariously and graphically, that her face is so numb she wouldn't know it if Betty "hit bone." Hello to the imagery. Right before she sticks it in, Wili stops her and says this is all proof that Betty is the power behind Daniel Meade, aka Cupid, and that's why she wanted her. So the tiara thing was a test? "Because I thought that was a punishment for speaking up in your meeting." No, in fact, Wili was impressed and thought Betty was The One. "Like Lord Of The Rings?" Betty asks. Oh, Betty. Henry's dorky ass is on the other side of the country.
Wili explains that the only previous person to actually accomplish retrieval of the crown was herself, when she was Fey's assistant. Of course, she sucked cock for it instead of giving hugs, but the important thing was that she accomplished the impossible. "I am going to groom you. And Lord knows you need some grooming." Wili pronounces Betty her protégé, and says she'll be replacing Mark as lead for the launch party. "After this, you can write your own ticket. Who knows? Maybe you'll be the next Wilhelmina Slater." Betty is, to say the least, less than excited about that.
Mark's doing deep breathing exercises when Betty approaches him, and his face is pure evil as he swears he would rather "eat butter" than willingly aid her in any way. Betty protests that she hasn't even asked him to do anything, but he says even the idea of her ordering him around is against nature. She starts to tell him he's being ridiculous, and he throws a hand in her face: "SORCERESS!" Whining that she's taken "everything that matters," he shrinks back horrified when she touches his arm sympathetically. "I have less than twenty-seven hours for this launch, and there's no way I do this without you." She asks him to help her find a "lifesized, anatomically correct black vodka ice sculpture" and he immediately runs off to Amanda to bitch. "...Waddles back in here like a helpless brown Weeble, and while I'm not looking plunging my world into darkness!" Amanda gathers him to her bosom and sings a little song: "Hush little homo, don't you cry, Mandy's gonna steal you a Prada tie..." He nestles in her arms and tells her not to touch his hair, petulantly: "It's how I like it."