When we return, Daniel is meeting with James Van Der Beek! Beek from the Creek! Otherwise known as the man who started it all. I have the desire to give a giant "Mwah ha ha!" right now, but I don't know if Wing and Sars and Glark would appreciate it. ["There's never a wrong time for that, girl!" -- Wing Chun] In any case, Van Der Beek is Luke from Atlantic Attire, and he and Daniel have just almost closed a big advertising deal. They even bump fists, which I guess is like the straight-man version of bumping...other things. Luke says that he heard Alexis is back, and then tells Daniel that he doesn't know if his company should be associated with a magazine run by a cross-dresser. Hey, you jerk! She's a TRANNY. Get it straight, Strom Thurmond. Daniel can't believe that Luke wants him to fire his own brother/sister to land the account. Luke is all, "Life is about tough choices, my brother," and tells Daniel to think about it and get back to him.

Meanwhile, Victor Garber lets Betty in on the news that her story was so good, he sent it to a colleague -- an editor at New York Review. He'd like to see her. Today. Betty blubbers, and Victor Garber says, "You really save it for the page, don't you?" Heh. In case you were questioning the subtext of all this, let me help you out: Lying is bad!!!

And you know who seems to have learned this lesson? Daniel. When a much better put together Alexis comes into the office and asks how the meeting with Luke went, he tells her he lost the account. When she prods for more information, he admits that it was because Luke had an issue with her transfabulous self. Alexis, who is kind of in an emotionally fragile state as it is, takes it pretty hard. She gives a big speech about how she can't do anything right. Including, apparently, find an effective antiperspirant. Rebecca Romijn-Stamos-O'Connell's pit stains are massive. I feel her on that, though. Certain Dri is the only thing that works, but I am convinced it will give me insta-cancer. Any deodorant that comes with an instruction manual has to be a little dangerous, is what I always like to say.

Amanda, meanwhile, pores through old issues of Mode with Halston at her side. Halston starts yipping and pawing at an issue. Amanda picks it up and starts flipping through, and finds a picture of Fey and her assistant, Wanda, at the Palladium. Who is this plain, be-afroed Wanda, you may ask? Well, Amanda asks the very same question before getting a shock of recognition. She gives the image a little digital cosmetic surgery and some Botox and finds her answer: Wanda is Ugly Wili. Who, I might add, is standing right behind her. In her not ugly form. Unless you're not a fan of shiny boxy silver garbage bag jacket-dresses. Commercials.