Meanwhile, Wili is fielding a call from Marc while she's at the OB/GYN. She tells the doctor to hurry up, because the last time she was in stirrups this long she brought home a ribbon from Palm Beach Equestrian. There's some talk about fluids and sacs and whatnot, and the doctor tells her that they're done, but will be lucky to get one viable egg. Wili says that she has plenty, and that women over thirty-five have babies all the time. "Yes, women that age do," says the doc, then asks her who she has in mind to carry. He means, of course, carry the embryo, and says they'll cryogenically preserve it, just like Walt Disney, until she finds a surrogate. When Wili says that she, of course, is going to carry it, the doctor tells us what we might have presumed all along: all signs point show that Wili has a hostile womb. "Aren't they all?" asks Marc as we head to commercials.

When we return, Daniel gives Alexis hell after their meeting. He's mad because it's a good idea, and she just said no because it's his. To Alexis, that's the fun part of being boss. It's the wrong time to rock the boat, she says, and admits she's pulling rank. Daniel doesn't accept it and goes so far as to not sit on the footstool. A bold statement, for sure.

Wili and Marc get pedicures and discuss her hostile womb. Marc thinks it's ridiculous, and notes that her womb practically has a welcome mat. Wili replies, "It hasn't had a welcome mat since the '90s." They wonder where they can find someone sturdy of frame and wide of hip, with a womb as accommodating as the Four Seasons. That person, of course, has to be someone Wili's able to control. They get funny looks in their eyes as they gaze at the pedicurist, Brandy. Wili asks Brandy if the names she's always telling stories about are children or cats. Turns out they're kids -- and Brandy has five of them. It looks, Marc says, as if Wili has just found a five-star womb.