Daniel is rescued from all of this embarrassing familial effusiveness by an uplifting sight: Salma, across the room, chatting with some nebbishy middle-aged dude with glasses and a sweater vest. Daniel heads over and introduces himself: "You must be Hunter. I've heard so much about you. I love that vest." No such luck; the guy Salma's talking to is in fact the editor of Tech Wiz magazine. Daniel really needs to keep better track of his peers at Meade Publishing, doesn't he? "Hunter's over there," Salma says, pointing. Sure enough, Hunter is almost literally a golden god. Or at least he's filmed that way, running a hand through his luxurious mane of backlit blond hair. "Man," the Tech Wiz editor whispers to Daniel, "how are guys like us supposed to score with someone like him around?" Ouch.
In her kitchen, Wilhelmina gazes at us in horror. I don't know why she's horrified; we're the ones who seem to be stuck inside a turkey, looking out. "Desperate times call for desperate measures," she sighs, and picks up the phone to call -- who else -- Martha Stewart. "This is why I should always screen," Martha whispers to the chefs who are flanking her at what looks like her TV show's kitchen set. When she hears that Wil is cooking a turkey, Martha acts like a big jerk, mocking, "Maybe I could run a fashion magazine! It'll be like Freaky Friday!" Martha needs to keep her ham in the oven. Wil says that it was going fine until she looked into the turkey and found the bird's "luggage" inside. She pauses, listens, and finally asks, "So you want me to put my hand where?" I have to say, Martha's kind of the one coming off like an asshole here. Besides, I know I've been to at least one Thanksgiving when the host didn't know about the turkey's contents being in there until after it had been cooked, and I'm still alive.
Back at Bradford's lunch, Hunter's a big hit with everyone, so of course Daniel is dying inside. He asks how Hunter and Salma met, and Hunter says that it was on a plane back from Kenya, where Salma was working on a photo shoot and Hunter had been working for the Peace Corps. "I figured there had to be more to life than modeling and racing sports cars," Hunter shrugs. He tells a story about setting up an irrigation pump, and starts to get misty at the memory of "those tribal kids' faces when they saw fresh water for the first time." Daniel tries to relate: "Once I helped these kids open up a hydrant on 76th Street, and they were just like, 'Wow.'" Unlike the guests at the party who have fallen silent. Awkward.