• The Wrap writes of the challenges facing AMC in following up on the success of its two original shows, Mad Men and Breaking Bad. Since the pair of critical darlings launched, the network's development team has changed and this weekend's debut of The Prisoner marks the first try-out for the new execs, with two new series coming up behind it. While the kiniptions Mad Men provokes in the media have always been hugely disproportionate to its raw audience size, which is generally in the one to two million range, Men's success is due to a little fluke of its audience demographics. The Wrap notes that more than half of its viewers earn six figure incomes, making it pretty much the official show of American rich people. But while Men and Breaking are bringing in cash for the network, the piece notes that between them they can only produce 26 episodes a year, a long, long way from the sort of programming pipeline needed to take the network to the next level, revenue-wise. And what with the economic downturn, America's rich have a lot more time to dedicate to their Tivo's and their needs must be fed. [The Wrap]

• Fox has re-signed Emma Watts to serve as its President of Production for the next three years, a move which Variety says, "keeps Fox as a bastion of stability at a time when studios are rife with executive shakeups." [Variety]

• Charlie's Angels may be coming home to the little screen. ABC is reportedly on the brink of a deal to bring the story of three little girls who went to the police academy back full circle to where it all began for them. Josh Friedman, who wrote Fox's Terminator:The Sarah Connor Chronicles is on board to executive produce the show. And now they work for him. [Variety]

• American box offices are bracing this weekend for a medium to large-sized tsunami of cash unleashed by the release of 2012. The disaster epic is expected to take in between $50 - $55 million this weekend with no other major film entering wide release against it. The film enters the marketplace with a Rotten Tomatoes score of 38 which The Wrap points out is an improvement over the 9 percent positive rating of director Roland Emmerich's previous film 10,000 B.C. [The Wrap]

• The Vice-Chairman of Lions Gate said that his company would be interested in buying MGM but "It's all about price," that is, if they can get the James Bond franchise for very little money, sure they'd be happy to do that. While trumpeting the news the LA Times makes the "imagine that/you don't say" point that, every company in Hollywood would be willing to absorb MGM and Bond if they can get them for nothing or next to it. [LA Times]

• The Who have been booked to entertain tens of millions of drunken, nacho-engorged football fans when they play the halftime show of this season's Superbowl. [Hollywood Reporter]

• Despite SAG's rejection of proposed terms, AFTRA's membership ratified a new contract with video game makers, taking a 2.5 percent pay raise for its actors. [Hollywood Reporter]

While Mad Men is a critical darling and its ratings are growing, it has never been a ratings bonanza for AMC and the pay is notoriously low. And after three seasons of being on "TV's best show," the siren song of more lucrative TV and movie roles may be irresistible. Plus, the way that series creator Matthew Weiner left things — Sterling Cooper as we knew it is dissolved, newly formed Sterling Cooper Draper Price may make it out of the Pierre Hotel, and Don's marriage is effectively over — almost any any character could be easily written out. So it would not be surprising if some of the regular characters disappear entirely from the show by next summer with nothing but a line of dialogue — "Oh, Peggy couldn't stand working next to Pete and Duck hired her after three weeks" — and a guest appearance or two.

Here your betting guide for who's coming back as a regular for Mad Men's fourth series, from most likely to call-your-agent.

Don Draper
Played By: Jon Hamm
Last We Saw Him: Lording over his new kingdom in a hotel room.
Why Stay: There wouldn't be a show without him.
Why Leave: After a great guest spot on 30 Rock, Hamm is getting more attention than anyone in the cast, for drama as well as comedy. He's also involved in several upcoming movies like Howl, The Town, and Sucker Punch.
Odds of Returning: 1: 1,000,000 (come on, there's no Mad Men without Don Draper)

Peggy Olsen
Played By: Elizabeth Moss
Last We Saw Her: Working for Don at the new firm.
Why Stay: She's a fan favorite with a great role and her character is on solid ground at the new firm.
Why Leave: To be a movie star! She's come a long way since her days on The West Wing. Between this an a well-regarded turn on Broadway opposite sushi-poisoned Jeremy Piven in Speed The Plow, now may be her time.
Odds of Returning: 1: 500

Roger Sterling
Played By: John Slattery
Last We Saw Him: Don's new best friend and business partner.
Why Stay: Roger gets all the ladies, funny lines, and best bits. Who doesn't want to play the scene stealer. Plus, Slattery and Hamm are besties.
Why Leave: There will be plenty of work for a veteran character actor like Slattery—work that probably pays a lot better.
Odds of Returning: 1:200

Pete Campbell
Played By: Vincent Kartheiser
Last We Saw Him: Don's new protege at the new firm.
Why Stay: He has a nice juicy, high-profile role that's far better than anything else he'll land.
Why Leave: He doesn't have a good reason.
Odds of Returning: 1: 100

Joan Holloway
Played By: Christina Hendricks
Last We Saw Her: The new office queen of Sterling Cooper Draper Price.
Why Stay: Because if she doesn't, we will slit our wrists.
Why Leave: Holloway is a sexy lady who has been on the fringes of TV for awhile. She may see this as her break. She's in next winter movie Life as We Know It, and she has proven to have the looks and the talent to anchor a TV show of her own.
Odds of Returning: 1: 75

Trudy Campbell
Played By: Alison Brie
Last We Saw Him: Delivering a cake in a wonderful red bucket hat.
Why Stay: Who else is going to nudge Pete in the right direction. And we need someone to show off retro fashions.
Why Leave: This isn't the biggest role, unless she and Pete get an upgrade.
Odds of Returning: 1:50

Harry Crane
Played By: Rich Sommer
Last We Saw Her: Eating one of Trudy's sandwiches at Sterling Cooper Draper Price.
Why Stay: He was saved by this plot twist, which means the writers have something in store for him.
Why Leave: Harry never gets to do much of anything, not even supporting character zany. He may want to stretch his legs.
Odds of Returning: 1: 10

Betty Draper
Played By: January Jones
Last We Saw Her: On the plane to Reno to get a divorce from Don with her future ex-husband Henry.
Why Stay: Because it would be great fun to watch Betty get tortured some more.
Why Leave: She has every reason to leave. Betty's storyline is at an obvious stopping point, at least as featured character. January Jones has been making the PR push, putting her boobs on GQ, hosting Saturday Night Live, and attaching herself to a number of projects. She also has a part in the upcoming Pirate Radio, so it certainly looks like she's planning a busy schedule away from Mad Men
Odds of Returning: 1:5

Sally, Bobby, and Gene Draper
Played By: Kiernan Shipka, Jared Gilmore, some baby
Last We Saw Them: On the couch with Carla being dazed by the TV.
Why Stay: They're kids. What, would they rather go to like real school? Also, they're Don's kids. You can't just erase them.
Why Leave: Or can you? If Betty leaves for good (maybe she and Henry settle in Reno and open a casino?) the kids go with her. And Bachelor Don is going to have plenty of babes to play with.
Odds of Returning: 3:1

Ken Cosgrove
Played By: Aaron Staton
Last We Saw Him: Left at the former Sterling Cooper, but as head of accounts.
Why Stay: A steady job—albeit a small part and, hey, maybe the writers need a way to a character to demonstrate life inside soulless McCann-Erickson.
Why Leave: Staton would be bummed to be cut, but it'd be really easy for him to go off and finally become a novelist.
Odds of Returning: 5:1

Bert Cooper
Played By: Robert Morse
Last We Saw Him: Keeping the sofa warm at his newest ad agency.
Why Stay: As an older gentleman, just like Cooper, if Morse leaves, there isn't going to be much work for him elsewhere. At least not with this high a profile.
Why Leave: He may not have a choice. Cooper doesn't do all that much, and when they need a big shock, it will be easy to give him a stroke/heart attack/Japanese armor accident at any time.
Odds of Returning: 10:1

Paul Kinsey
Played By: Michael Gladis
Last We Saw Him: Wishing Don had taken him instead of Peggy.
Why Stay: There's not much else for him on the horizon.
Why Leave: We have a feeling he doesn't want to, but if we're looking to streamline the cast, his peripheral character is an easy cut.
Odds of Returning: 75: 1

Sal Romano
Played By: Brian Batt
Last We Saw Him: Calling his wife from a pay phone before cruising the after he was fired from Sterling Cooper.
Why Stay: Well, he is effectively gone, but the way his storyline ended, he always seemed like he'd be back for more. Plus his "gay in the closet" storyline has tons of ways it could play out and lots of modern day implications.
Why Leave: He is already gone. Don could rehire him, but their main client is American Tobacco, the company that had him fired in the first place, so that seems about as likely as a Judy Garland Resurrection Tour.
Odds of Returning: 100 : 1 (but we really want him back!)

The season finale (directed by show creator Matthew Weiner himself) was all about Don's relationships and how he rectifies them in order to move on creating his own advertising agency. Usually happy to be the lone gunman, Don has to rally the troops in order to stake out on his own, which means checking his ego, doing some apologizing, and letting some of the people in his life know just how he really thinks about them. And Joan came back! And Trudy wore a killer hat. All was right with the world as it—and Don—strikes out in a new direction.

Don and Connie: As he has been all season, Hilton is a stand in for Don's father, who also got some face time this episode. We learn from Hilton that Sterling Cooper has been sold to a larger agency, one that Don—or anyone else for that matter—doesn't want to work for. Because of that, Hilton drops Don, which leaves him in the lurch because he had to sign a three-year contract to secure the Hilton deal in the first place.

But what he's really upset about is that he doesn't have his independence. He is energized by Connie's final question: is he going to be a whiner or is he going to be a winner? And with the promise that they'll do business again in the future, Connie gives Don the final push to try to take his future into his own hands.

This leads to the flashbacks concerning Don's father, who we learn wasn't happy with the price his crops were going to get in a cooperative, so he struck out on his own to do what was right for him. Instead of selling for cheap, Whitman Sr decides to hold onto his crop and sell it in the winter when it will fetch more money. Though Don tried to shed his past like a snake wriggling out of a dirty skin that was far too tight, he is still his father's son. When things aren't working out for him, he decided that he would rather do the right thing on his own and possibly fail, than succeed as an automaton for The Man.

This is later reinforced when we learn that Don's father was literally killed by caving in. When there isn't much money left, Don's stepmother convinces her very drunk husband that he has to sell his crop. He says he'll go immediately, and Don goes with him to make sure he doesn't literally fall off the wagon. But he doesn't even get on the road, when a spooked horse kicks him in the face and kills him. If he had stood by his principal and held onto his crop, he never would have been out there to be kicked in the first place, and might still be alive—or at least lived a bit longer.

While Don might be the indepence-at-all-costs, up-by-the-bootstraps, fuck-them-all-I-know-what's-right product of his father, he is determined not to be him. He is not bending over to get kicked in the face while McCann fucks him for the rest of his life.

Don and Roger: It was easy for Don to convince Bert Cooper to get on board with his plan of buying the agency (or striking out on their own, as they eventually do) since Cooper would be let go if the agency was sold again. However, it wasn't going to be a cake walk to convince Roger Sterling, who Don has spent the whole season trying to distance himself from.

It would seem that Sterling would much rather sit in his office counting his piles of coins like Scrooge McDuck while kicking back a few drinks and then going home to goose his pretty young wife before passing out in his expensive bed than actually run an ad agency. But he has the money and the accounts to make a new agency work, and it seems like he still has the ambition too. What he really needs is Don to supplicate himself, which he does with great sincerity. Roger hits the nail on the head when he tells Don he's no good at relationships because he doesn't value them. We see that with his home life as well as how things go around the office.

It's great that egotastic Don can be self actualized enough to know he needs Roger to deal with the clients and make them happy, since that's not in his grainy little heart. As we see during their scene at the bar when Roger tells Don that Betty is seeing Henry Francis, Don and Roger work much better when collaborating than they do when competing.

The other brilliant thing that Roger brings with him is St. Joan. As soon as Cooper brought up the fact that no one knows where anything is, we thought, "What a brilliant way to bring back Joan," and the vision of her sauntering in to save the day with her red hair coaxed into tight perfecting and the gold pen swaying seductively between her enormous knockers brought tears to our eyes. Welcome back, kiddo.

Don and Pete: Don has never been the biggest fan of man-child Pete, but both he and Roger know that Pete is the much better account man for the small (at first) firm they're planning than Ken Cosgrove, the upward failing buffoon who seems like he was made for a life in middle management. While Ken might have beat out Pete at Sterling Cooper because he was a yes man who could fit into the corporate culture, he doesn't have the instinct that Pete has to make it in the big time.

Of course, to get him, Don has to put his condescension aside and let Pete know that he will be a valued member of the team. Of course, Pete asks for more than he's worth, but better that than not asking for enough. This is really the best possible outcome for Pete. He was on the outs at SC anyway, and his interviews at other agencies may or may not have panned out, but he will succeed quite nicely at a firm that will value his gifts while overlooking the fact that he is an immature cad deep in his chewy center.

Speaking of great members of the team, Pete would really be nothing without Trudy. She fixes things up all nice when Don and Roger come a-calling, and excuses herself with a plausible story when they get there. When Pete starts to lose the way her call of "Peter, can I speak to you for a minute," sets him back on the right course. She isn't allowed into the conversation, but just knowing that she's listening turns his rudder in the right direction. She never strong arms, she just nudges. And then she brings sandwiches. And wears a cute hat! If Betty is gone for good next season, we're going to need someone to give us Suburban Splendor Barbie realness, and it's going to have to be Trudy.

Pete got over his hurt quickly and signed up, and another easy sell was Lane Price. Unhappy with being unappreciated, shuffled around, and generally maligned by his bosses and liking the life in New York away from the class constraints of his native land, Price was ripe for the crew to pick off. Considering he was integral to their plan to get the ball rolling, it's good he agreed. We look forward to seeing more of his strangely shaped head around the office. But, oh, his poor wife!

Don and Peggy: Don handled the Peggy situation all wrong, at least the first time around. He naturally thought of her first to take with him to the new agency, but he orders her about like he controls her. It's funny that Don has such a great way with seducing women in his private life but he can be so blind to what Peggy needs at work.

This whole season Peggy's storyline was about empowerment. She smoked weed, she slept around with a boy, she got an apartment and a roommate, she put her domineering mother behind her, she even got her secretary to respect her (even though winning over her colleagues was a bit harder). And finally, she realized that she has a promising career in advertising and a sexual being, both thanks to skeevy Duck. So when Don comes at her like she's a blubbering child, she finally stands on her own, letting him know that she has other offers, and that she is not there for him to kick around. Spurned, Don reacts the way he usually does when he doesn't get his way, by being a cocky asshole.

The way he handles her the second time was perfect though. Don uses his best pitching skills to win Peggy over. Don knows that things have changed—not just for him and the firm, but something fundamental in the culture—and that Peggy is necessary to keeping up with that shift. She's smart and creative and, like Don says, a miniature version of himself. She is often depicted as a mini Don, giving up her personal life for work, but this episode she seemed more like a grown up version of Sally. When Don makes his offer for a second time she says, "If I say 'no' you'll never talk to me again," and starts to tear up, betraying that all she really wants from Don is his approval. The scene where Don makes up with Peggy comes right after the scene where Sally storms off when he tells the kids he and Betty are getting divorced. It seems like Don making peace with Peggy, his office daughter, is somehow akin to him making peace with Sally.

Of course, Peggy agrees to join the team (she nearly broke our heart with joy with the tiny wave of excitement she made when storming the office) and her best moment was yet to come. When the newly assembled Mad Men All-Stars are planning to extricate themselves from the office, Roger tells her to go make him some coffee. She is a secretary no more, she is an equal member of the team, and she is strong and secure in her position. "No," she says in an even and forceful tone, which says, "You will never ask me to do that shit again."

Don and Betty: Wow, Betty actually did it! She asks for a divorce so that she can leave Don and marry Henry Francis. This was the only bit of tying up that had nothing to do with work. This year was very personal, focusing on the denizens of Sterling Cooper in their personal lives rather than in the office, so it was a bit surprising when the final episode centered around the creation of a whole new office. Of course, we couldn't forget about Don's disintegrating home life.

When he comes home drunk to confront Betty about Henry, he puts her journey this season into perspective: Betty was building a life raft. Everything she's done this year has been to get away from Don. Starting things with Henry, finding out his past, getting money from her father—it was her escape route. After all his transgressions, divorcing Don wasn't so much a circumstance, but an inevitability. Poor Betty, doesn't she see that she's leaping from one bad situation to the next. Henry Francis—who barely knows you but wants to marry you!!—will probably be just as bad and stifling as Don. Just as Don said, he gave her everything she wanted, and that wasn't enough, she still wasn't happy. Why does she think replicating it with Henry will have some magically different effect?

When Don chooses to insult her, he really knows how to do it. He calls her a bad mother which, duh, and then calls her a whore. There were several prostitute references last night which are that much more meaningful given Don's mother was a hooker. When he needs to show ultimate disdain for Betty, that's the word he goes for. When talking about the sale of Sterling Cooper, Roger says it's like going from "one john's bed to another." Painting the old firm to look like a whore is the surest way to get Don to distance himself from it. Also, Lane Price's assistant "Moneypenny" is really named Mr. Hooker. We don't know how that fits in, but...hmm?

Back to Betty and Don, she takes off for six weeks in Reno so that she can get an easy divorce from Don, because she can't prove that he's been unfaithful. Maybe she should make about three phone calls, because the wronged ladies shouldn't be that hard to dig up to testify against him. Of course bad mother Betty leaves the kids with Carla while she jets off with her new lover to Reno to get divorced/married. This makes us hate Betty.

Also, the scene where they tell the kids about the divorce was super painful to watch. Don tries his best to pitch the kids on the idea of their new life, but they're not buying it. Betty can't do anything but hide behind her hand and try to keep the tears in. Future lesbian Sally storms off, sad that daddy is leaving. Little Bobby pleads for daddy to stay, but he won't. No wonder this kid is going to be snorting lines with a very dapper, emotionally-distant Halston in the VIP lounge of Studio 54—he's working out some serious daddy issues. But when Don hugged his son and earlier when he climbed into bed with Sally, we see that he really cares deeply about his children, despite his cool demeanor. But he barely sees them now that they live in the same house, how much time is he going to spend with them now?

Sterling Cooper Draper Price, How May I Help You?: Don Draper's marriage may have dissolved, but his firm has just started. He, Roger, Bert, and Lane have drafted Peggy, Harry Crane, Pete, and St. Joan as their coalition of the willing to steal clients and bust into the art department (yes, we saw that someone placed a curlicue letter F in front of Art Department) to take whatever they can get their hands on.

This wasn't necessarily a cliffhanger, because the decisive action has been taken. We won't be left guessing "Will they leave?" a la "Who shot J.R.?" but we are left with plenty of questions to ponder over the winter (or in the comments section). Here are a few:

Now that Peggy and Pete are working in a tiny office together, are they ever going to come to terms with their past?

What is going to happen to Peggy and Duck? Is that still going on? Is he going to ruin Don's new agency?

Just what the heck is Bert Cooper going to do? There's no room for his armor and he can't take naps anymore. Do they even need him?

Lane Price's wife was unhinged before their stay in the U.S. became indefinite. How soon before she goes completely bonkers?

So, does this mean Betty is gone for good or are we going to get to see her staggering unhappiness with Henry?

How soon before Roger starts doing Joan again?

How soon before Doctor Rapist is killed in Vietnam?

Will they think of something interesting for Harry to do?

And what the heck is going on with Suzanne (nee Missy) Sally's teacher that Don was diddling? Why didn't he just go right back to her when Betty called it quits? Will she be coming back?

How sweet is Don's bachelor pad going to be? Just wait for the Mad Men furniture line at CB2.

If Don isn't married, is he just going to spend all of his time scoring ladies or just most of it?

At times it seems like Mad Men—our favorite historical drama about the personal and professional lives of retro ad men—is populated by a bunch of selfish egoists who only care about themselves. But, then again, so is life, so it makes sense that when a national tragedy strikes, everyone reverts back to the basic foundations of their personality to deal with the news. Their coping mechanisms say more about how these individuals deal with their own lives than they do with the passing of the president.

Despair and Confusion: When the president is killed, people are naturally going to be upset because, well, it's sad, and it upsets the natural order of things. We're used to a hierarchical structure of government with someone at the top who is wise and strong and who will protect us when bad things happen. When an event occurs to disrupt that, we begin to question not only our safety, but everything about our lives and the fragility of our happiness. That leads to confusion, and confusion often leads to clarity, but it always leads to rash acts.

This plays out beautifully with beautiful, beautiful Betty, whose fragile shell cracks when she learns the news. She puts herself to bed and withdraws even further from her family. For her, Kennedy being shot is her way of dealing with Don confessing the truth of his past. The strong, handsome man she can trust has been murdered, and she is sad because her life has been ruined. The pretty fairy tale facade that she tries so hard to cultivate has been nothing but an illusion, and when she wakes up from her dream, she finds a very scary reality: she is deeply unhappy.

That shouldn't be too much of a shock to her, but when the only stability in her life—the cool control that Don exerts over her—is subverted by the disclosure of his past, she has to find some way to recover. Initially, she lets Don control her again. At the wedding, she accepts that everything is going to be OK, because Don tells her that it will. When the ill-fated reception is over, Betty (in a rather dowdy dress that Michael Kors from Project Runway would describe as "mother-of-the-bride") is walking towards both Don and Henry, her object of unfulfilled desire. She chooses Don, hoping that, like he says, everything will go back to normal shortly.

Then, Oswald is shot by Jack Ruby in front of America, and Betty freaks out again. Passively listening to Don isn't going to work anymore, and she needs something else—someone else—to satisfy her.

Selfishness: Naturally, some of the characters are only worried about how the assassination is going to affect them. Most notably is Roger's daughter, who finds out about the news and cries, in her wedding dress, that the ceremony will be ruined. Damn right, sister.

Pete is the king of selfishness and uses the whole incident as a substitute for his unhappiness at Sterling Cooper. We start off the episode and hear that he's being demoted from co-head of accounts with Ken to a lesser position. Ken will be the new head of accounts, and Pete will be working under him. How their jobs are different, we don't quite know, but we do know that Pete lost. Well-bred and ambition, Pete is distraught because he thinks that he deserves the job more than the stupid yahoo Ken, who still manages to succeed in spite of himself. Ken is Lydon Johnson to his Kennedy, at least in his own warped mind.

On an aside, we're still not quite sure why the office was freezing when Pete got the news of his demotion (the cold shoulder?) and sweltering when Don blew his top about not having an art director (hot headed?). Maybe it just shows that no one has control in the office anymore, not only over their own careers but also of the environment itself.

Back to Pete, who deals with the news by pouting and eating cereal and getting drunk, which is exactly how he copes with the president being murdered. "I felt for a second like everything was about to change," Pete says about the Democrat's death, but he really means about his own station following his promotion at the beginning of the year. He says he's so upset that he's not going to the wedding. Trudy (who may have better style than even Betty Draper, but she definitely had better hats), tries to get Pete to go, because he has to play the game of office politics. But eventually this Lady MacBeth relents, and they are the only ones conspicuously absent from the party.

Trudy realized the same thing Pete did, he may still have a job, but he is done at the firm. Ken won and he will be the one on the rise, while Pete's career will fester in middle management until he dies. He is using the excuse of the president's death to get out of a social obligation, just like he will soon get himself out of the firm. We bet the first thing he does on Tuesday is call Duck for a job.

Pull the Plug: While waiting for Peggy to arrive for their "nooner," an invitation that she brazenly accepted in front of Paul, Duck hears the news of the attack on the TV. When there's a knock on the door, instead of saying "Hey, check this out," he pulls the plug on the television so that Peggy won't hear and he'll still get to have sex. When the romp is done, he starts thinking about it again. When he and Peggy hear that the President has been killed, he reacts by thinking first of his children. Peggy doesn't see that this relationship, for him, is primarily about sex, which is sad, because she seems to be falling for him.

Like Duck (who looks much better with his clothes off than we imaged he would, not that we ever imagined it before we saw it, but still), Peggy has pulled the plug, and would rather have a relationship than deal with the news that it's not right with Duck. We find out that she has been having lunch with him often and that he's been spending nights in her apartment, that is starting to smell like his aftershave. It seems like Peggy wants their relationship to become something more, especially when we find her in the office at the end of the episode.

Rather than dealing with the president's death, she goes in to work to pretend like it isn't happening. Also, she has been displaced from her life. She says that her apartment is full of her roommate's friends being frivolous, and her mother's house is too full of her mother and her emotions, so she heads into the office. Peggy is ready for the next step. She doesn't want to be at home with her domineering mother or living the single life with a bunch of giggling office girls, she wants to be playing house with Duck. Obviously, that's not going to work, and she's going to end up married to her job. And as the door closes on a sad, lonely Don drinking in the dark while the nation mourns, we get a little snapshot into Peggy's future.

Life Goes On: Just because the president has been killed, does that mean everything should stop. Roger certainly doesn't think so, and refuses to cancel his daughter's wedding, just days after the event. Of course, no one shows, and all his employees who do—which is everyone but Pete—is in the kitchen watching the television, along with Roger's child bride, who would rather hide out than deal with the stepdaughter who can barely disguise her contempt for her new mother.

When he returns home drunk from the reception with his very drunk wife (this is the second time we've seen her get shitfaced beyond belief), he gets on the phone with Joan. Just last week we saw Roger asserting his happiness with Jane, is that starting to sour already? First, he is pissed off with her for going to lunch with his daughter (an anger than makes the Misses just as mad), then for hanging in the kitchen, and then for being a mess.

Of course, Saint Joan is beautiful, patient, and sober and offering very sage advice on the other end of the phone. Life is happening, she tells Roger. Mourn as you will—both the president, and his unpopular decision to dump his wife for a young secretary—but that doesn't mean that the world is going to stop for you. And she will not allow any joking about this. Oh no, mister.

Life hasn't stopped for Joanie, who seems to be doing well with Doctor Rapist, who is off working in the E.R. now that he joined the Army. She's at home being the happy housewife, or so it seems. Making the best out of a bad situation and keeping a cool head. That's our girl. Let's just see how long this is going to last.

Control: Like always, Don tries to exert control over the situation when everyone is mourning the president. He does the right thing and tells his television-addicted future hippie daughter and future Studio 54 denizen son that everything is going to be OK. He tries to do the same thing to Betty, but, at the end of the night, he's borrowing one of her sleeping pills to forget the pain inside.

Initially Betty reverts to her old behavior, letting Don have the upper hand, but when his control is shattered by the unpredictability of world events, she goes running to Henry. She makes a quick excuse to get out of the house and meets him in her car, the seat of their last act of intimacy, but instead of kissing through the window, he is now invited in. "Have you thought there are other ways to live?" he asks her. Well, thanks mister, now she has. And rather than just patting her hand, sending her to bed, and telling her it will be fine, Henry says he would do something for her to cheer her up, like take her to see her favorite movie. She tells us it is Singing in the Rain—romantic, escapist fare, no surprise there.

The scary thing is that Henry tells Betty he wants to marry her. Haven't they only met a handful of times and shared two kisses, and he wants to talk about marriage? That is just crazy talk. But she buys it. She trades in one controlling man for another, even though this one might be a slightly more benign model, but wouldn't he say anything to convince her to leave her husband for him?

Thoughts of running away with Henry and being happy in her head, she returns home to confront Don. The scene plays out like Betty is still reacting to Kennedy's death, but now we see that she is really talking to Don about how he's lied to her and cheated on her for years. She wants to scream at him for ruining "all this," and by that she presumably means not their happiness, because both of them have scant amounts of that, but the illusion that they are the perfect family. Betty can't pretend anymore, and now she knows that she doesn't love him.

She drops that bomb like a scratch to the face. Like always, Don tries to control her, saying that she'll get over it and everything will be fine. But the passive, docile, and confused Betty of yore is gone, and it no longer works. Instead of trying to work things out with her, Don pulls away, letting her stew in her unhappiness which will no doubt only drive her into Henry's arms—more as a reaction to Don than because of how nice Henry's guns most certainly are. And that's where we leave it, going into next week's season finale, with Don drinking alone in the dark, his distraught wife at home alone hating him, in an office where he can't even control the temperature.

Hendricks talked about her wedding, and Joan's vase-smashing-over-the-head moment. Then Martha said: "I must say… I thought you were much older." Awkward!

Next, Martha talked about her days as a model and how she was asked to wear a bikini for no reason.

After that, Martha made a mixed drink, but asked Christina to shake it — at which point the camera focused on Christina's cleavage. Someone in the audience coughed. As I said, the whole thing was strange.

Everything last night was about the disparity between how one character looks at something and how their opponents view the same object or situation differently. Whether it was Betty and Don both peering into the abyss of his box of secrets, Don and Missy looking at their love, or Peggy and Paul staring down an idea for the Western Union account. Sure, the secrets and lies are what is going to bite these people in the ass but it's that split vision that gets them there. As Don says, "Some people see things differently, and they don't want to." Poor, tortured Don.

Betty and the Box: Finally, Betty gets into that locked door in Don's dresser, thanks to a set of loose keys in the dryer. It says something that all Betty wants to do is see past Don's hard shell to the truth that is lying underneath, and as soon as he slips up even once and leaves the keys to the drawer in his bathrobe, Betty knows exactly what the incriminating keys are for. But can she handle the look into Don's heart of darkness? Probably not.

Earlier in the night, when the phone rings and there is no one on the other line, Sally gets all upset. "My goodness, Sally Draper, try not to take everything so personally," Betty snaps at her. Well, Betty is the last person who should be trying to teach people this lesson. Not only does she take it personally and think that the call is her spurned would-be lover Henry, but she also takes it personally when she opens the box. She's not shocked by the pictures of Don as a boy but named Dick, the deed to a house in California, or his purloined dog tags, she is shocked that he was married before. The one thing that Betty really cares about is the one thing that effects her. So like Betty.

Of course, Betty sees this as a huge betrayal—and really, keeping all those things away from her truly is—but Don sees it as a way to survive. His new identity catapulted him up from his hillbilly roots to the WASPy station that Betty so much enjoys. And of course, she sees her Don as having gotten a divorce and never telling her, when it was the old, dead Don who was married to Anna, and not the man who is currently cheating on her with some psycho teacher.

And as Betty waits up for her man to come home so that she can spring the trap on him, he doesn't take the bait, because he's sniffing around at some prey of his own above a garage across town. When Don doesn't return home, Betty puts the box back into the drawer, locks it and returns the keys. She tries to lay into Don the next day, but her sadness gets the best of her, and she sinks further into her hole of unhappiness. She is hiding everything away both literally and figuratively. It's fitting then that Betty has looked the best she ever has—an ice blue gown for an ice princess—for the Sterling Cooper anniversary party that night, because it seems clear Don is only interested in her as a facade, something to show off for his advertising buddies. Who cares what lies below the surface when the surface is so beautiful.

But something is brewing with Betty. She continues to reach out to Henry, keeping the lines of communication open, even if it's to tell him not to call. And she's reading The Group, a satire of upper-class life by Mary McCarthy (yes, published in 1963), that features a heroine who gets a divorce. Hmm...

But the final scene of her clapping half-heartedly while Don receives his award is surely a sign that more is coming. Knowing Betty she is going to let the information about Don stew inside for a bit before acting out childishly and without thinking and doing something disastrous. Let's hope it involves setting her ugly fainting couch of desire aflame.

Don and Missy: The most air time was spent on Don and his relationship with Miss Farrell (the AMC blog says her first name is Suzanne, but I don't know that we've ever heard it on the show, so we're just going to keep calling her Missy around these parts, OK?). The biggest difference between the way these two see their relationship is that Don sees passion, innocence, and good-will in her when really what he should be seeing is that she is a complete and utter psycho. He sees her as something extra and she sees him as her everything.

How is Don missing this? When he doesn't call, she doesn't wait by the phone, she shows up on the train unannounced and demands an explanation. Crazy! And then listen to what she says: "I don't care about your marriage or your work or any of that, as long as I know you're with me." Hear that, Don. That means the minute you try to end it, she is going to crazy on you like a Heart song. She will fuck up your marriage and your work and all of that. She said it herself. How does he respond? By holding her hand and showing her that he's with her. Retreat, Don! Be like the turtle you are and pull back into your shell, because Missy is coming with sharpened claws and she is not afraid to slit your throat.

But for some reason, Don thinks that she is the one. Maybe it's because he shows up and she has gold stars stuck to her face and tells cute stories about eight year olds. She is the opposite of Betty—all openness and emotion. Finally, after he drops off her brother, he comes back and she's so upset that she can't even have sex and Don stays anyway. So this isn't just about getting a piece of strange, this is about finding an alternative home. When he arrives at her house for the first time this episode, she's playing house and jokes that his secretary called. He plays along. Right now he is lost in her delusion, but he will wake up to realize that she is crazy, and it may be way too late to save himself.

Don and Mister Missy: That Don wants to drive Missy's no-good, epileptic brother Danny to his new job in Massachusetts show's just how whipped he is by this women. "I swore to myself I would try to do this right once," he says, showing that he wants to have a relationship with Missy that is free of lies and deception and instead based on him being a stand up guy. Sorry, but Don is incapable of that.

It's because Don feels some sort of affinity for this kid and his "affliction." If he had never stolen Don Draper's identity, he would be saddled with the affliction of his own upbringing and would have been trapped into a life of pushing a broom in a VA hospital. At least that's what he believes. He tries to set Danny free, but, like he had to do for himself, he is doing it with a bunch of lies. Don sees freedom as the most important thing of all (remember his contract negotiations) and is willing to trade this kid's freedom for the confines of another lie.

Missy will see his behavior as a betrayal—and since the kid has the card, we know that the truth is going to come out eventually, probably when they find it on his dead body—but Don sees it as an act of kindness. It's really just two shades of the same color.

Mr. and Mrs. Pryce: Well, there is a Pryce for everything, and Lane is paying for his happiness in New York with his wife's sorrow (and you are paying for reading the Official Gawker Mad Men Recap by having to endure bad puns). He sees it as a place of freedom from the British class system and his controlling overlords and she sees it as a seething hellhole of noise and humanity. Oh, they are both so right. This is a pretty obvious disagreement on perspective, and doesn't really play itself out in the plot until we find out that Sterling Cooper is for sale.

When talking with the home office, Lane finds out that, due to his diligence cutting the staff and getting profits up, the agency is now on the block so that the Brits can turn a tidy profit. They see this as a big win, but Lane sees this as a disaster. He'll have to leave his beloved new home and move back to London—or even worse, to India! Is it enough for Lane to sabotage the whole deal so that he can stay with the firm? Or will he try to transition over to Sterling Cooper and leave his old firm behind so that he can be the head honcho? It wouldn't be shock of this upright Brit had some deviousness in him to save his hide.

Peggy Vs. Paul: Here is the practical applications of two people looking at the same problem and coming up with two very different solutions. They both have to pitch some ideas for the Western Union campaign, and they both come up with nothing. Well, Peggy comes up with nothing and Paul comes up with something, but gets so drunk in his office that he forgets it. His tale sets Peggy thinking and she sets this perfect trap in Don's office.

The only reason she would tell Don that Paul had a great idea he forgot was so that she could then go into an explanation of a telegram being forever while a phone call—like Paul's brilliant idea—evaporates. She has stolen Paul's non idea and used it to please the boss. This isn't the first time this happened either. Earlier, when presenting an Aquanet commercial to Don, Paul's idea gets shot down. Peggy tweaks it a bit, and Don is thrilled. She does the same thing here a second time. The prolonged scowl that Paul shoots Peggy's way is enough to let us know how he feels.

They also view their relationships with Don in a different way. Paul seems Peggy as being the favorite who always discounts him in front of Don. Peggy thinks that Don hates her and that Paul is the one with all the good ideas. This whole ordeal made us realize that Peggy is more of an astute innovator than a great creator. Like those old commercials, she doesn't make the things Don loves, she makes the things that Don loves better.

Oh, and speaking of differences of opinion, Peggy must have really liked that brown dress with all the bows up the front. We strongly disagree. When is Joan coming back with some fashion advice?

Robin Veith, who got credit on the classic episode "The Wheel" has left Sterling Cooper, we are told. Veith is said to be an old pal of showrunner Matthew Weiner from way back, raising concerns that a shake-up could be afoot on the show.

However, as the writing staff is currently in hiatus between seasons, this may just be the time when people who have decided that they are moving on announce that they are moving on. After hyping up Gordon's departure, Nikki Finke reports that it is in fact, staff turnover as usual. Update: Finke emailed to take issue with our characterization of her Gordon reporting: "The point of my post remains the same: how very unusual for a writer to be fired less than a month after winning the Emmy. That is why I wrote this in the first place." She also wanted to point out that she heard about Veith before us. So there.

If anyone know's anything more about what's afoot, we'd love to hear from you. Drop a line to your friends at Gawker, confidentiality guaranteed.

The center of last night's action was the powerful taking over the weak and trying to use them for their own selfish ends. We saw it in the Draper home, at Sterling Cooper, and especially as Don climbed the stairway to heaven to find Miss Farrell's room over the garage. The lights were on, and somebody was at home. We wish the same could be said for Missy.

Also this week, the civil rights struggles of 1963 are starting to seep into the action, and in the ego-driven world of Mad Men, we learn more about the characters from how they react to them than the impact the events had on history as a whole.

Sal and Lee Garner, Jr: The most powerful man in this pairing is not either of these two, but Lee Garner, Sr. Two gay men in the early '60s had no power whatsoever. Everything that Junior does is to please his father—from sticking with Lucky Strike instead of going into the movies to pretending to be straight. When Sal rejects twangy hunk Lee in the editing suite, he opens Lee up to the possibility of exposure, which would upset Senior, which would mean that Lee is out of a job and a fortune. Lee then uses what power he does have over the Lucky Strike ad budget to get Sal fired. Too bad, because that commercial (which looked like it was taken from gay classic Querelle) was pretty darn good. And after looking at that wonderful model all afternoon, it's no wonder why Lee was ready to go.

As soon as Lee hit on Sal, he was pretty much doomed at the firm. Even if he had gone through with it, Lee probably would have been so guilty that he would have had Sal fired anyway, so he might as well have gotten a hot piece out of it rather than just getting a pink slip. The reason he didn't is because he realized that he had no power in the situation. How is he going to defend himself from some rich, powerful client, especially when the threat of everyone learning the truth about his personal life is so close to office? Earlier this season, when the bellboy came onto him as aggressively, Sal was all about it, because what is a lowly wage slave in another city going to do to Sal?

Unfortunately, it is that event that does Sal in. When he fesses up to Don about what went on, Don doesn't believe his story. While Don never brought up the fact that he caught Sal pink handed with the bellboy, he does use the information against him now. Why would Don trust a known homosexual's word against someone rich and upstanding like Lee Garner Jr? But, in the end, Sal's biggest sin wasn't liking guys, it was putting business in danger. While Lee may not have successfully exploit Sal, he did wield his power to have him put out.

So, where does that leave Sal? Making calls to the missus from a pay phone in the park. There is a guy wearing a leather hat next to the phone booth, and nothing says gay like a leather hat, so that means Sal must be out cruising for dick in public. Stripped of his job and ambition, Sal is left powerless and isolated.

Don and Miss Farrell: We know that Missy has some serious daddy issues and probably a drinking problem, and now it seems like she's up at all hours of the evening running around deserted streets and sitting in her cozy apartment in killer frocks. God, there is so much wrong with this girl. Why can't Don see it?

Her biggest problem, though, is she cedes all her power to Don. When he picks her up on the side of the road and when he first arrives at her door unexpectedly, she has all the control. She knows what he wants and she has to give her consent. She even tells Don "I know how this ends." Yeah, we do too, with you heartbroken and boiling Don's bunny! Once she gives into Don, it's over for poor Miss Farrell, because he has the power to ruin her, and he does it so he can have an escape from his sad little life, and to exercise some control over another after being tossed around at Conrad Hilton's every whim.

When he finally embraces her he says, "I want you. I don't care. Doesn't that mean anything to someone like you." As always, Don is all about selfishness and ego. He's able to exploit Missy, a common school teacher who should be happy that Don deigns to look at "someone like her."

We also get a peek into their psyches when they react to Martin Luther King's famous "I Have a Dream" speech on the radio. Missy says she's going to teach it to the kids on the first day of school. Ever the idealist, she thinks that the world can change for the better, just like she thinks that she can probably change Don and that their dalliance will turn into something more—or at least something she can control.

Don instructs her that she is naïve. Just like Don's behavior never changes, he thinks that the world will never change, and that this speech is just so much hot air. He's not against progress, he's just never been able to muster it up for himself, so how could the rest of the world be able to do it?

Betty and Henry: No wonder Betty is with Don, because she loves being controlled. Even in her dream, a man overpowers her with his touch while she lies on her fainting couch of desire. But through their interaction, we see just how powerful a privileged housewife like Betty is over someone like Sal or Missy.

When Henry arrives at her door unannounced, she invites him in and then quickly sends him away, unlike Missy who invites Don in and allows him to get her into the sack. She forgets that she is the one who reached out to him by sending a letter, igniting the whole situation. Trying to prove her innocence in front of Carla, Betty plans a fundraiser to cover up her indiscretion. When Henry doesn't show, Betty is in a mood. She even pouts while wearing yet another of her spendid ensembles.

She's so distraught that he didn't show that she can barely pull a look together to go let him have a piece of her mind in Albany. She shouts at him for making her look like a "sap" for not coming. She wanted him to arrive on his steed and throw her down on the couch and take control, but when he says to her that she had to come to him, she's turned off. Though they kiss, she won't have some messy romp on an office chair or a motel room. Betty is above being "tawdry," and doesn't want to be the one calling the shots. She leaves for good, probably.

Back at home, she and Carla discuss the girls killed in the Birmingham church bombing. Betty says it's a travesty, but maybe it means that civil rights isn't supposed to happen now. That's so like her. As she said in her letter to Henry, she "has ideas," but they're not fully formed. They're just bubbling under the surface as undirected anger. She wants to do something about it, but she keeps delaying, waiting for the perfect time so that it can emerge clean and fully-formed. Just like civil rights, Betty's quest for fulfillment is going to be long and messy, and if she's not willing to get dirty, then it's never going to come.

Don and Conrad Hilton: Conrad Hilton is the great colonizer. Not only does he use his money and influence to push Don around, call him in the middle of the night, and order him to have drinks at all hours, but he wants America to colonize the world. He thinks that by having Hilton hotels in every location, that he can bring a bit of freedom and religion to the far reaches of the world. Communism can offer idealism, but America can offer clean towels and hamburgers! There are more shades of the just ended national nightmare of George W. Bush in him than I care to point out.

Don gives him what he wants, a brilliant ad campaign showing Americans that their influence is taking over the globe, but it isn't enough for his finnicky client, who expresses his concern that Don didn't comply with his strange and specific demands.

Don's biggest disappointment must be that he sees failing Hilton as failing his father all over again. Hilton is like a hillbilly who made it big, and thereby someone who Don sees as worth impressing, but also reminds him of his past that he's trying to reconcile with his present. Connie says that he looks at Don as a son (a sentiment that seems a little premature) becuase, like himself, Don is a bumpkin who hit the big time, something that Connie's kids, raised in the lap of proselytizing American luxury, can't understand. More and more, we see that he is a little bit touched, and when Don didn't put the moon in his ad campaign, he is offended, the more so because of his rushed acceptance of Don as a member of his spiritual family. Whenever the ruler turns on the ruled, it's never pretty.

Don and Roger: This clip is worth watching for Roger's lawnmower quip alone, but the continuously uneasy dynamic between the two makes it especially significant. Roger, whose name is on the wall in the lobby, grows more and more resentful of Don, now that his former subject is rising up against him and trying to take the star role at the firm. Don even outlawed the man from his office and his presence, forgeting who is really in charge. When Roger tells him he's "over his head," he's probably right, something that Don will hate to admit later.

Roger is also an old-school colonizer, as evidenced by his lovely blackface display a few weeks back. Just as Don thinks the civil rights movement will change nothing, Roger wishes that things would go back to the way they were, when blackface was funny and the black populace working to make the white man richer. He also longs for things in his own firm to go back to normal. He sees Don as nothing more than a house slave, there to make him money and useless without his wisdom. The two will probably be each others' downfall.

Finke offers one explanation from a source in the show...

"One of the great things about Mad Men is the tradition that Matt has established of offering higher-level opportunities to staff, writers and artists in all of the various departments. From the beginning, Matt has fought to get people approved by the studio which almost always lobbied for him to hire more experienced people instead."

"We think [Kater's] done a great job, particularly for someone whose career has progressed so quickly. Now, however, Matt has reluctantly decided that their relationship has reached its full potential. She'll be missed, but the series has consistently benefited from the influx of new writer talent, and there's absolutely no doubt that Kater will continue to have unprecedented success in her career as she spreads her wings. She leaves Mad Men with our love and respect and a well-deserved Emmy."

...that's clearly in Weiner's camp. Maybe this is the truth! Or maybe she might as well have placed an email from the show's flack in exchange for a better scoop later on. But the truth can't be this simple. Finke—who exercises a Machiavellian hand over the comments in her posts—left it to her commenters to speculate. And by speculate, we mean, speak for her. And I imagine someone at AMC is asking Finke why she's not deleting comments like she normally does on issues she wants to control.

Let's look at some of the more interesting theories:

• Matthew Weiner had a strictly unprofessional relationship with her, or as the commenter put it:

  *cough*LETTERMAN*cough*

  Well, Gordon did have a very quick rise through the rankings of Mad Men. Again: started as Weiner's assistant. Became a writers' assistant. Weiner then let her co-write the last season finale with him, and now, she's a staff writer for the third season. Or was, until she got fired. Staff writing jobs are not easy to come by, obviously. Sure, it's topical. And maybe it's worth noting that this is the first show Weiner's ever been a showrunner on. I somehow doubt this theory. If something inappropriate took place, why would he fire her? Probability: unlikely.
  
  

• Jealousy Issues. Another commenter writes:

  There was a really weird moment during the acceptance where Matt kind of 'snatched' the Emmy from her...The photo gets at it but I remember it being uncomfortable to watch. I always [sic] trhought they worked with these relatively inexperienced people on this show primarily for financial reasons. Allows them to put as much money as possible up on the screen.

  I'm not sure I buy the "inexperienced writers" line so much as the one above: that Mad Men hires writers with low quotes because they can afford to do so by reputation, and allocate the money elsewhere on the show. Weiner's a notorious control freak, as evidenced by the show, obviously. Hollywood loves a young, hot writer, and Gordon's cute and staffed on a hit show. Maybe this made Weiner uncomfortable. Or maybe Gordon's ego from the win outgrew Weiner's ability to micromanage, which could've been marginally. Even so, another commenter draws a comparison to Peggy and Don Draper's relationship, noting that this could give a certain scene from earlier in the season more significance...

  One just goes balls to the wall:

  Anyone who believes this horseshit is completely naïve. Matt Weiner is the lowest of the low in our business. He is a egomaniac and the likelihood is that he was incensed that he had to share credit and let alone an Emmy with her. A lowly former writer's assistant. As far as he is concerned, he is solely responsible for the success of this show and no other writer, producer, director, actor, key grip have done anything to contribute to the show's success. For Pete's sake, he didn't even let Kater Gordon say a word when they got up on stage. It was her moment as well but Weiner made it ALL about him.

  Though egomaniacs are kind of par for the course, no?
  
  

• And another one just thinks Matt was unloading unnecessary cargo:

  The only episode she wrote by herself was "The Fog" and it was terrible. Looks like Matt got too excited and promoted her too quickly…

Update: Finke posted from a writer who supposedly knows by Weiner and Gordon, who insists there was no "Letterman" play involved. "She totally got the show and deserved the break she got. There was NOTHING illicit in her relationship with Matt." 'Figured. But Finke has yet to posit any theories...

[Photo via Mark J. Terrill/AP]

It's a little cruel to be showing episodes about the dead heat of summer just as the weather has turned as cold as Betty Draper dealing with one of her children, but she and everyone else was melting in the sweltering heat. Of course the kisses were less than innocent and gave us a peek into the characters' lusty minds.

Betty and Henry: As soon as Henry strutted into the Ossining City Council chambers last night, we knew that Betty's sexual reckoning was upon us. The pervy belly-rubber showed up to lend his pull at the governor's office to Betty and her junior league mavens so that they could derail some massive water tank being built near their reservoir. He actually didn't stop the development, but proposed that a study of the existing reservoir be done to push the project back and hopefully kill it. "When you don't have any power, you have to delay," he tells Betty.

Betty once again hides behind her upright facade and bids Henry adieu in the parking lot, as much as she'd like to have him throw her down on her fainting couch and making chilly, barely moving love to her. He leans into her car window and asks if he had anything to do with her happiness—letting her know both that he wants to please her and slyly that her pleasure doesn't come for free. She lets him have a deep kiss, but is quickly on her way. Is she delaying so that she can have more power over the situation, or has she paid her debt and had her fill of flirting with a real, heart-felt affair?

Later, we find out that the devious plot— his play to keep the water tank from being built has failed too—behind his devious plot to bed Betty has failed as well. Either his power and his promises are empty, or he pulled the governor's support when she wasn't willing to pull down her panties. Either way, it doesn't seem likely that Betty will be back with him soon.

Betty and Don: While Betty's interior motivations were in question the entire hour, there was just as much attention paid to her shellacked exterior of beautiful perfection. We see her putting on lipstick in the mirror, getting her hair done in a magnificent bouffant, and fixing her beautiful flowing geometrical color print dress. Oh, and don't forget the return of her beautiful Suburban Splendor Barbie white sunglasses. If she can't single-handedly bring them back into style, then there is no justice in the world.

And nowhere did she look more splendid than her night out in Rome with Don, where she worked that ornate hair structure, gorgeous gown, a those dangling orbs earrings that must contain the brilliance of the sun. Their scene on the palazo was the oddest and the most rewarding of the night. Once Betty starting speaking perfect Italian, it makes total sense that she would have studied the language at Bryn Mawr. While all of her schoolmates were studying French like good, educated WASPs who want to be part of the cultural elite, Betty was taking Italian because she thinks she's just a little bit different.

Her language skills come in handy to turn down two lusty Italian men, and Don approaches and pretends that he is a handsome stranger. The Italians call him old and ugly (if they had seen him filling out a plain white undershirt earlier in the hour, they would know just how untrue both of those things are) but Betty invites him to sit down, shooing off the competition. Of course, Don pretending to be someone he's not—especially when out of town or away from the family—is a familiar site, but now he is in cahoots with Betty. The two seemed strangely in tune this episode, and approaching something that might even be called happiness.

And they get into plenty of cahoots after their dinner with Conrad Hilton. Back in their room, Betty is seduced by the glamor of Rome and the brilliance of her husband, who she thinks has impressed a very important man. She's also working out all those revved up hormones from when she was dreaming about Henry. If her little dalliance in the parking lot can bring her closer to Don, then all the better, but we're sure Mr. Draper is going to find a way to disappoint her soon.

All the sex and glitz must have gotten to Betty's head, because she is horribly depressed when they couple returns home. Just like her excitement about the prospect of moving to London earlier in the season, Betty wants out of her little hamlet and her provincial life. She would probably even leave the children behind so that she and Don could go gallivanting about Europe like F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald with an expense account. For now, she'll have to settle for some scorching kisses when she can get them.

Sally and Ernie: While there has been some speculation that future hippie Sally is going to grow up to be a lesbian, she proved you all wrong last night by laying one on Ernie. The kiss came almost as a direct reaction to watching her mother put on lipstick in the mirror. Sally must have picked up on the sexuality her mother was giving off, and Sally wanted to try it on for herself.

Of course, the plan backfires. Not only does Ernie shake her off, but Bobby taunts her and Sally beats the shit out of him. I am scared of Sally Draper. She is one mean little girl who is not afraid to lie to save her ass and will give you a smackdown if she doesn't like how you're treating her. This does not bode well for the future.

But the real reason for the kiss was so that Betty could sit her down and give her a little lecture on first kisses. In full view of the ugly fainting couch in front of the fire—the symbol of her animal lust for Henry—she tells Sally that first kisses are important and not to just be giving them out like pieces of chewing gum. Betty is still drunk on endorphins from her sexual marathon with Don, and she realizes that she made a mistake with Henry, because when she kissed him, she learned way more about him and herself than she could handle. Her reaction was to get away with her husband for an escapade, which just reinforced her suburban ennui, which is what lead to her buying that disgusting fainting couch in the first place. She hasn't gotten rid of her new furniture just yet, but as of right now, she may be regretting her purchase.

Pete and Gudrun: Pete Cambell is an asshole. When his wife, Trudy patron saint of awesome hats, is away on vacation with her parents, he whiles away the time making up plots to diddle the neighbor's nanny. As soon as Trudy departs, it's amazing how quickly Pete descends into behaving like a 12 year old, watching caroons, eating cereal on the couch, and being mean to girls. When he finds the poor, sad, lost little nanny trying to burn a dress she spilled wine on, he first tells her to lie and tell her employers that the kids did it. Of course Pete's first thought is to do something juvenile and underhanded. He's like a grown up Sally Draper, but not as tough. He tells her that he will take care of it, and she is stupid enough to put her trust in Pete Campbell.

After getting some help finding a replacement gown, Pete brings it by triumphantly, hoping that he'll be rewarded with a little taste of German loving. Nein! Gudrun stays true to her boyfriend and sends Pete away with a peck on the cheek. After a few drinks, Pete comes back, demanding to see her in the dress, but we all know what he's really asking for. She is again stupid enough to let him into the apartment, thinking that a man whose first impulse on seeing her in danger was to advise her to lie might actually have honorable intentions. Though she doesn't fight back, he essentially rapes her, taking her sexually under the implied threat of exposure to her employers if she doesn't comply. He is a smarmier version of Henry the politico, and he will not settle for some chaste smooching in the parking lot.

She doesn't keep mum either, filling her employers in on their transactional relationship, and Pete is shamed enough that when Trudy returns, he tells her that she can never go away again. He's stupid enough to think that her being around is going to be a good influence on him. Her hats are magical, but we have a feeling no accessory is powerful enough to cure Pete of a severe case of assholism.

Pete and Joan: These two didn't kiss—thank fucking God!—but Pete's scheming for a piece of au pair lead him back to Joan, who we see working as a manager in a department store. Oh, Joanie! We wanted to cry real tears, just for the look on her face when Pete turns around and she realizes that her jig is up.

However, our proud Joanie always rallies, and instead of whining about how hard her life is or being too embarrassed, she copes the only way she knows how, by taking control of things. She turns the situation around, saying she's just filling in and doing the job so she can get the first pick of dresses. Then she helps Pete get a new dress, and gets it to him for free. Now that is the girl who would save your life if a secretary ever ran over your foot with a lawn mower!

We learned a few other things about Joan, that Doctor Rapist is thinking about becoming a psychiatrist, a rich choice considering his history and one that will take even more training. Looks like Joan isn't free from the salt mines after all. And as Pete leaves the counter, satisfied that his plot worked, Joan—robbed of her gold pen pendant of power—hangs her head for a moment of self pity.

The scoop we're hearing is that the suave, slick-talking Brit was a stand in for AMC president and general manager Charles "Charlie" Collier. Weiner had some notoriously tumultuous contract renegotiations after season two and even threatened to leave the show if they wouldn't pay him the kind of money he felt he deserved.

After securing him for the third season of the channel's most visible creative and ratings success, Collier told Weiner and the show's other producers that the hour would have an additional commercial break. Of course the writers were none too pleased that they'd lose two minutes of air time each episode and have to work in another awkward pause to their weekly festivities—especially because this never came up during the contract brouhaha. How does a creative type strike back? With fictional bloody violence of course.

So, what does Collier have in common with his Mad Men alter ego, Guy MacKendrick? Well, both have British parents, both were salesmen (Collier at Court TV before joining AMC), both wear suits, and both know Matt Weiner. Oh, and they sort of look alike. So far Weiner's voodoo doll has not caused Collier to lose his job like it did to poor Guy MacKendrick. Considering Collier has ad revenue up 10% we have a feeling that even with only 5 toes, he'll still be standing on top of AMC.

That accident was unexpected (and a little unimaginable, like Rosalind Shays falling down an elevator shaft on L.A. Law) and had far-reaching consequences for all the internal shifts that continue to plague Sterling Cooper since it fell into the hands of its English overlords. Though it looked dire at first, last night's British invasion may still have some positive effects, even though it's already caused one amputation.

Blood wasn't the only motif winding it's way through the episode, which focused on office politics, Joan's departure, and future hippie Sally's crazy fear of her youngest brother. Here are the other tendons that were connecting the tissue of this visceral hour.

Lights: Much of the episode was shot with the dim lighting and inevitable dread of an ADT commercial, especially the scenes in Joan and Don's home, but each character is fixated on a fixture for a different reason.

Joan falls asleep on the couch waiting for Doctor Rapist to come home and tell her that he is the new King of All Surgery. Instead, he stumbles home and informs her that he will never be a surgeon and she can't leave her gig, or has to find a new one. In the gloom, she jiggles over to him in her nightgown (her ample cans on magnificent display) and tries to soothe her man—and herself—by taking control of the situation. She already realized that her choice was no good when all the doctor's starting talking shit about him at their dinner party, now she's stuck trying to wring the best out of a bad situation. She says that she'll take care of him as soon as she "closes the light." Like always, Joan is trying to control her own destiny, but even though she may be able to master the environment around her, the future is slipping out of her exquisitely manicured iron fist.

Don lies in bed staring at the dome on his ceiling, his mind illuminated with the thousand possibilities of a promotion at work and possibly a move to London. Last week we saw him staring at pictures of his parents in the moonlight, reflecting on the past. This week the night is just as dim, but the glare of the future is staring him down. For all the success he's had, he still wants more, and it seems like his private moments at night are the only time that he allows himself to escape the confines of "Don Draper" and really live as himself. At the end of the episode, he has another revelation in the dark, confronting Betty about their new son's name—which he doesn't like—and his honesty, with himself and his family, shines through again.

Sally, on the other hand, is filled with terror by the night, afraid that her baby brother is possessed by the spirit of her beloved Grandpa Gene. After Don hooks her up with a nightlight, she stares into it, like that is the only thing that is keeping her from being attacked by the changeling demon in the next room. But her protective aura is as false as her assumption about the reincarnated spirit of her grandfather. Only when Don calls to her, in the evening dim that consoles him, is he able to comfort his daughter and put her at peace with the newest addition to the family. It's only when enveloped in the natural light of the universe—rather than the amber florescence of the Sterling Cooper office—that we can really see these characters as human.

Drinks: Drinking on Mad Men? You don't say! However the progression of what Don is drinking had a special significance this evening. First, when he returns home from a promising day at the office, Betty opens him a can of beer. It's a Budweiser, the kind of domestic brew that he is hoping to escape with a move to London and a step up in the world. Later, at the "fête" in the office, the Brits spring for celebratory champagne. However, Don is in no mood to celebrate, when he is told that his position will stay exactly the same. It's a huge disappointment after being filled with champagne wishes and caviar dreams (did anyone else find it odd that Guy wished Joan lots of "caviar" in her new life?).

Don guzzles his last bit of bubbly while on the phone with Conrad Hilton's office, a man who he met during the Kentucky Derby episode while playing mixologist at the country club. He goes over to his suite at the Waldorf Astoria and lets the big man make him a fancy cocktail for a change. Don was hoping to leave behind The King of Beers for pints in London. When that dream was ripped away from him, is he going to go for highballs in the Hilton penthouse instead?

When an emergency interrupts his meeting, Lane buys him a Dr. Pepper in the waiting room at the hospital. Last week he was drinking whiskey in a waiting room while waiting for his son to be born, and that came from a lowly security guard. Now, his employers are only willing to spring for a bottle of pop (and a new dress for Joanie, thank God). Is Don going to be happy with a taste of soda now that he's had his mind filled with drinks of a more expensive vintage?

Gifts: All of the gifts on this week's episode backfire. Lane's colleagues from the home office bring him a snake, a cheeky gift to let him know that he's being shipped off to India to turn the Bombay office around. As he explains, he doesn't want to leave New York, where he has just gotten settled, and where he seems to be doing quite well, even though Don, Roger, and the rest of the SC crew aren't very fond of his McKinsey-like cost cutting measures.

Sally is equally nonplussed by the gift that Betty got her from her "little brother." When Sally figures out that Gene can't write out the card, Betty explains that he had a fairy do it. We don't know where Sal finds the time to write cards! Anyway, any child would revolt if she got a brunette Barbie (or was it a Midge?). Give us the real-deal blond or don't bother at all. No wonder the thing ends up in the bushes. When Don transports it back into Sally's room, she awakes and freaks the fuck out. It's the latest evidence that her baby brother is possessed (maybe the fib about fairies wasn't such a good idea after all, Betty). In the end, Sally gets what she really needed, some comfort from her father, not some disposable plastic plaything.

The final gift was the secretaries' cake for the departing Joan. When it's wheeled out, she lets out a sob. She plays it off pretty well that she's sad to be leaving, but we know she's crying because she hasn't figured out how to tell anyone that she has to stay. Of course, Moneypenny already stole the impact of the gift from his archenemy, when he informed her that a surprise party had already been planned.

Peggy, who was mostly silent this episode, also felt left out of Joan's gift and decided to get her one of her own. When telling Joan about it (over the roar of the tractor) Peggy says that not everyone can be like Joan, but that she has been listening to her advice. Once again, she may have the fancy position, but Joan has all the power. We never find out what Peggy's gift is though, or just what she learned from her spiritual big sister, because of a tragic accident.

Blood: This time literal blood was spilled on the Sterling Cooper carpet. As Joan said, "One minute you're on top of the world, the next some secretary is running over your foot with a lawn mower." Why was it even in the office? It was a gift for Ken, who just landed the John Deere account. More interesting than the red stuff is how everyone dealt with it. Joan snaps into action, taking control of the situation and ordering people, probably saves poor Guy's life in the process. Peggy faints, because she can't handle the gory truth. Harry, who was sprayed with fleshy bits, gets rid of his sullied clothes and blanches at the atrocity, unlike his more stoic coworkers.

The literal goring of one of the British invaders led to a messy (and somewhat comic) clean up and squeegee effort in the office later. How everyone will handle the bloody aftermath of the figurative attack of the Americans on their European overloads has yet to be seen.

This scene played an interesting parallel to the story Roger told Don during their forced bonding session at the world's butchest nail salon. When getting a manicure, Roger tells Don that his father died in a gruesome car crash where his arm was cut off by the windshield. In the accident at the office, another man loses a limb and the tractor crashes through the window.

Career Plans: Everyone faced career setbacks last night. Don grew dissatisfied after imagining himself in a different position. Lane was being shipped off to India, much to his chagrin. Guy found himself out of a job when the Brits decided that a man with no foot could never land new business if he couldn't walk or golf. Roger was left off of the reorganization chart proposed by his new bosses. Pete continues to suffer in Ken's shadow as he lands a new account. The only person who benefited was Harry, who was made the head of a new TV department. Of course, much of that is up in the air now that Guy is out of the picture and the Brits need to rejigger their plans. Maybe Don will get the attention he wanted after all.

All of these demolished plans stood under the looming shadow of Conrad Hilton, a man who has achieved great success—such success that his fortune will one day give us the pop cultural boon of great-granddaughter Paris. Not only does Hilton get Don to give him some work for free, but he seems savvy enough to want to woo Don over to his company. We'll see whether or not his aspirations, or anyone's, come to fruition.

The one to worry about is poor Joanie. This is the kind of cliff-hanger you get on Mad Men: will Joan get to keep her job and how will she manage to do it? We're actually more worried about that than whether or not Jack and Sawyer managed to turn back time on Lost! We'll have to wait to see what the future holds, but when you place a wily attack dog like Joan in the corner, the results are bound to be as bloody as her fierce green dress.

• Everyone loves Neil Patrick Harris. And how could they not? He came out singing cabaret and danced away with our undying love. Not that he didn't have it before. After this evening's turn as the show's host, we're pretty sure Harris should master the ceremonies of every Hollywood event ever. (By the way, Mediaite has the lyrics from the introductory number. Learn them. Live them. Love them.)
  
  
• Kristin Chenoweth will soon be the hardest working woman in Hollywood. The adorable actress — once known mostly to the Broadway crowd — stole the nation's heart by crying after winning best supporting actress for Pushing Daisies. The show's been canceled and Chenoweth, bless her, reminded the world that she needs a job: "I'm unemployed now, so I'd like to be on Mad Men. I also like The Office and 24."
  
  
• Tina Fey fans are upset that Toni Collette won the "best comedy actress" award for United States of Tara, which we actually enjoy. Well, Jeff Jarvis is upset, at least: the journalist and internet aficionado twittered, "best comedy actress was a crime." But, whatever, because Fey won for her SNL Sarah Palin impersonation.
  
  
• In other-SNL news, Justin Timberlake took home a trophy for his "Dick in a Box" routine. But that was announced last week, so hopefully you knew that.
  
  
• Sure, Fey didn't win, but that doesn't mean the Academy doesn't still love 30 Rock: the incredibly popular show won "best comedy series" and Alec Baldwin walked away with a "best actor" statuette. That's his second, for the record.
  
  
• Speaking of seconds: Mad Men again won "best drama series" and best writing for a drama series. Does this mean the show will continue to be a popular culture darling? Not if you ask Matthew Greenberg from True Slant — he thinks the consecutive win will alienate those who don't already watch it, because they'll think it's elitist.
  
  
• If Greenberg's right, there could also be a backlash against Glenn Close: the Damages star once again won for "best actress" in a drama series.
  
  
• Comedy Central's no doubt pleased with Jon Stewart and the Daily Show crew: they won "best writing" for a comedy, variety, etc series. And, yes, Stewart commended Neil's hosting abilities. He also made a joke about going backstage to watch football, which was competing on another network and became the butt of many tiresome jokes.
  
  
• LA Times writer Tom O'Neil has crowned Bill Maher the biggest Emmy loser in history because Maher, whose show was nominated in the aforementioned variety category, has lost 22 times over the course of his career.
  
  
• Remember how we said Harris should host everything? He may have some competition from Hugh Jackman, who won for original music for his Oscar dance routine.
  
  
• Hey, did you know Sarah McLachlan's still around? And she's still singing "I Will Remember You." While, yes, we should take a moment to recognize the departed — Bea Arthur! — certainly there's a less maudlin, predictable soundtrack.
  
  
• And on that note, here's a list of the winners.

Unlike more recent episodes, last night featured several divergent plot treads not intertwining to become a greater whole, but each reverberating on it's own, like the strings of the cello all echoing together to make the saddest note you've ever heard. Of course, the biggest event was Betty giving birth and her subsequent drug-induced hallucination, as well as Don's short-lived relationship with the prison guard in the waiting room.

As events of the day start seeping into Sterling Cooper, the specter of the civil rights and women's liberation movements start to haunt the reactionary offices before they can scare them into modernity. Pete tries to start integration in the means of capitalism and Peggy tries to fight for a fair wage while the company is hemorrhaging money. Racism, sexism, and economic uncertainty—looks like some things never change.

Betty's Special Delivery:
After the death of her father and Sally acting out in school, Mrs. Draper was not in the best of mental spaces, even for her, which is reflected in her surreal experience at the hospital. Even before she gets the happy drugs, she's seeing her father's face on the janitor in the eerily glowing hallways. Her steward through this psychedelic hell isn't even a doctor, but a nurse who is equal parts doting and authoritarian. Even though the pens don't work and her regular doctor is out for the night, Betty finally relents, thanks to the drugs.

In her first vision, we see her walking down her manicured block in a fierce yellow and purple dress (the prettiest thing in the episode) while a caterpillar falls into her hand. Her face fills with awe, surprise, and something close to the malice of the female Disney villain variety as she closes her hand around the tiny creature. She's not protecting it; she's capturing it.

Next, we see Betty from the outside, where it looks like she's being tortured. She has a moment of clarity and starts asking for Don before saying, "He's never where you want him to be." Oh, that is so true. After a little struggle she whimpers, "I don't want to be here." Of course you don't, Betty, but this is the life you are stuck with.

That little girl mentality returns as we see her walking down the hospital hallway before ending up in her own kitchen where she is faced with her father as janitor, but instead of cleaning up a mess, he's spreading one on the floor. "Am I dying?" she asks. No, but like any Greek hero, she must confront her parents in her personal hell. Her mother is standing over the figure of murdered civil rights pioneer Medgar Evers (killed June 12, 1963) who was brought up earlier in the day by Sally's teacher. "This is what you get for speaking your mind," her mother schools her. Her father tells her that she will be alright, "You're a house cat, you're an important person, and you have little to do."

That is both Betty's fantasy and her curse. While she yearns for the conformist dream of being a perfectly-coiffed wife and mother, she also feels like it's a torture. The ghost of her mother tells her not to rebel, but to accept her station or else something bad will happen to her, just like Evers. In the end she relents. In all of Betty's fantasies, she is a woman on the move, but in the episode's final scene, when she gets up to answer the baby's cries and we hear once more the music that has accompanied her delusions, instead of walking she is standing still, with her head bowed low. In reality, she is frozen and trapped, propelled only by the duty to her family.

The Negro Market:
Pete realizes the only way to save Admiral televisions is to start marketing them to the "negro market," which is the only demographic where sales of the sets are rising. WASPy Pete probably isn't a huge proponent of the civil rights movement, but he sees a chance to make some money and save his ass in his war against Ken for the King of Accounts throne, so he makes a play. The honchos from Admiral know that black folks prefer their sets, but refuses to spend less money advertising in publications geared towards the market and cash in by the increase in sales. When Pete suggests integrating their ads, it's enough to make their heads explode.

He's called in by Roger and company for the inevitable coal raking, and says he doesn't understand why they don't take the opportunity to make more money. In America, the fastest way to equality is through capitalism, and the ever money conscious Lane realizes that "something is happening." It's time for Sterling Cooper to wise up and make some cash or be left behind by the changing times.

Equal Pay:
Former head of accounts Duck returns (with the literal wall decorations) to invite Peggy and Pete out to lunch. Not only does he call them out on their secret relationship, but also invites them to join his team at his new agency. Pete patently refuses, but Peggy is wooed by his kind words.

Back at the SC offices, Peggy faces another indignity: no one tells her that they're all going in on a gift for Don's baby, so she has to buy one of her own. It's a good excuse to deliver it and ask Don for a raise, since she's not making as much as her male coworkers. Don tells her it's impossible due to monetary constraints at the company, with the subtext being "and you're a girl."

Her head filled with all Ducks kind words, Peggy lashes out and lets Don know that she means business. "What if this is my time?" turns out to be as much a declaration of her new station as last week's, "I am one of those girls." At the risk of sounding like a half-rate comedian, we say "You go, girl!" It has been a long time coming and now Peggy is finally fighting for her own. To bad it's going to be a hard struggle. No one at the agency takes Peggy seriously or truly listens to her ideas, and if they aren't going to goose her salary, she may be off with the Duck in no time.

In the same episode where you have Betty being trapped by society into her role of wife and mother, we also have Peggy trapped in a corporate culture that needs her talent and imput as a woman, but refuses to reward her for the work she does. It was not a good time to be a woman, but finally things are starting to change.

Miss Moneypenny:
The reason why Don't can't give Peggy her due is that Sterling Cooper is having financial difficulty, and Lane is nickle and diming everyone to death. He checks over their expense accounts, tells them they're using too many pencils, and generally wants to constrain the louche atmosphere of the office. You mean long lunches, cocktails in the afternoon, and enough cigarettes to make a Parisian discotheque blush isn't good for productivity?

With everything in a capitalistic society, and it's microcosm at Sterling Cooper, money is what drives the enterprise. The economics of the firm are going to start having an impact on the people their and it's social policies. If Peggy can't get a raise, she'll leave. If they can't make money off of white markets, they're going to have to start trading in the Negro market. And just wait until everyone has to deal without Hollis the elevator operator to push their buttons for them. While the world may be changing and influencing everyone's decisions, money is still the ultimate engine driving their actions.

Hot for Teacher: In an episode that included prolonged dream sequences, the strangest scene was still this phone call from Sally's teacher. While we thought she was being a little flirty with Don when she called him and Betty in for a conference, here she's a drunk slutty mess, manufacturing a reason to call and hit on Don. She is obviously someone with daddy issues, and seeing a total DILF like Don is bringing them out and letting her bra straps show.

The Drapers were called into school in the first place because Sally is turning into a bit of a bruiser and let another girl have it at the drinking fountain. Way to go, Sally! Of course, she's acting out after Grampa Gene died last episode. She also has been asking lots of questions about Medgar Evers. Her drunk slut teacher also attributes that to her facing death at home, but we all know it's because Sally is going to be one seriously hardcore hippy, and the transformation is already starting.

Sally, like her teacher, also needs some fathering from Don. When in the kitchen, Don finally gives Sally the solace that she needs and lets her know that everything is going to be OK, even with Grampa Gene leaving and the baby coming. Don certainly has a way with the ladies, and some smooth words for his daughter works just as well as a little sweet talk with her teacher.

Everything last night had to deal with family dynamics, and pretty much all of it was bad. There were a few light moments, like gay Sal doing an impromptu show for his beard wife, but most of the hour seemed to tell us that we can never understand our parents and can't even come close to pleasing them. That sure is a bleak way to look at the world, but would you rather be caught in an upbeat Patio commercial? Yeah, didn't think so. Matt Weiner and company did come up with some inventive ways to show parental disappointment, though. Try not to go into a dark place while reading about them.

Not Understanding What They're Going Through: Throughout the 60 minutes, it was clear that Betty's father, Gene, was dunzo. Not only was he trying to give away his possession, but he made some attempts to connect to the family around him. When sitting down with Betty to discuss his will and arrangments, she didn't want any part of the discussion. God forbid death, with all its messy finality, enter into her perfect domicile of beautifully browned toast, spotless appliances, and exquisite coifs. Gene was obviously looking for a connection and trying to thank Betty for taking care of him, but she is too cold, distant, and afraid to accept the gesture.

Strike Out on Your Own: Peggy's mother was not having any of her daughter moving to Manhattan, thinking that her daughter will forget all about her family and where she came from now that she's tasted some success and moved to the big city. Peggy's arguments—shorter commute, no runs in her panty hose—were rational, but her real reason to find a place of her own is a continuation of her growth into a modern, liberated women.

Horace Cook Junior has the same struggle, trying to make his father proud by making Jai Alai the new national past time, and spending all his money doing it. At dinner with Don and Pete, it becomes clear that he doesn't really have the passion for the sport, but really a passion for doing something of his own, and this is the first scheme he's landed upon. When meeting with Don and Cooper, Horace Cook Senior shows he little to no faith in his son, but at least is willing to let him fail to escape the "cloud of my success."

Though it was less about paternal politics, the moment between Joan and Peggy in the break room showed their older sister/younger sister dynamic continue to play out. Joan steps in to show Peggy, disgraced and humiliated at the hand of her coworkers, how to get a roommate. She crafts a better ad than Peggy in about 60 seconds, and helps her to land a find a nice fun Joan-alike to live with. Peggy may be the one "getting ahead" but Joan is still the one in the know.

Give Them What They Want: In the instance of the doomed Patio commercial, Sal is the child, and the Pepsi executives are the parents, who are disappointed when their ad agency gives them exactly what they asked for. Sal did a competent job translating the grating opening of Bye, Bye Birdie into a grating commercial for Patio, but they're not happy with the results, it just goes to show you that even if you do exactly what authority figures expect of you, it is something the wrong thing.

Similarly, Pete has been charged with bringing in new accounts to Sterling Cooper, and when he lands a plum one like Horace Jr's Jai Alai fantasy, Don—a paternal figure for many on staff—chides him for finding someone without a chance of succeeding. Of course, in the end, money is what really matters, and Don gets on board with the scheme.

As Don says, the one good thing to come from the Patio debacle is Sal's new role as a commercial director, and he gets a pat on the back from his workplace "father" Don. Maybe it's because it was Don's idea to give Sal the gig in the first place. Sometimes, when you do what daddy asks, you are rewarded. Now, if Sal could only get himself a little man-on-man action, then he would really be happy!

Call Them Out: Betty is none to happy when little lisping Sally calls her, and the rest of the adults out, on not really caring that grandpa Gene just died. Of course, Betty is upset, but she can't allow it to show through her pristine exterior, while her money grubbing brother probably only cares whether or not he gets the house. Not able to deal with the emotional strain, Betty sends Sally away, to be comforted by the ills of the world on the evening news. After the incident with her father in the dining room and failing to comfort Sally when the policeman comes to announce Gene's death, this is Betty's third time failing to connect with a family member. It seems that any chance she has for bonding is gone.

This is contrasted with Gene's budding relationship with Sally, who shows her some much-needed warmth despite (or because of?) her stealing his money last episode. Sure, letting her drive the car and eat ice cream before dinner probably isn't the best behavior to instill in the child, but growing up with Betty and Don, she needs someone to show her a little bit of affection. That's why she takes Gene's death the hardest of all, and little Sally shows us that children are plenty capable of being disappointed of their parents as well.

Hats: It wouldn't be an evening without our favorite Mad Men accessory, and this week it was a little bit different. When Grandpa Gene tries to make friends with his grandkids, he does it by giving Bobby a souvenir from his tour in WWI. Don takes offense and tells his son to take off the "dead man's hat."

The ironic thing is that Don's whole identity is a "dead man's hat" that he stole from a dead soldiers. Don doesn't want his son behaving the same way he did, and wants him to have respect for the dead and their artifacts. Later, Don looks at picture of his own parents while staring into the moonlight. Is he thinking about his disappointment in them for not giving him the opportunities he craved or about how he disappointed them by disavowing them for a new life. Probably both, but now he's stuck in a dead man's hat.

Bad mothers are like unhappy families, no two are alike, but they are all a whole lot of fun to watch. Not only do they propel several televisions shows, but they will create fucked up kids, and without fucked up kids, where are we going to get our artists, serial killers, fameballs, and future Rock of Love cast members? Here's to the women who are more about lies, drugs, and promiscuity rather than homework, bed times, and grounding.

Nancy Botwin
Why She's Bad: She's an unstable drug dealer who is more concerned with keeping herself alive and getting laid than her children's well being.
Worst Parenting Moment: Younger son Shane gets shot when a Mexican drug cartel tries to execute Nancy.
Reasons to Love Her: She knows how to keep things interesting, and she's populated her children's lives with a cast of memorable characters. And she lets her kids drink, do drugs, and have sex while inappropriately young. She's going to be a great subject for Silas' memoir.
Most Fucked Up Kid: Shane, an alcoholic, masochistic teenage killer.
Fun Scale: 9
Mother's Day Present: Starbuck's gift certificate.

Susan Meyer
Why She's Bad: This desperate housewife pays more attention to her love life than her kids. Older daughter Julie was more the voice of wisdom than Susan ever was, or will be.
Worst Parenting Moment: Her young son MJ almost getting killed by a mad man.
Reasons to Love Her: Susan is the mom-as-friend that you always wanted. She would fret and frown and put her foot down, but she'll always let you get away with your dastardly deeds and do whatever you want.
Most Fucked Up Kid: MJ is going to have some serious Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after his most recent ordeal.
Fun Scale: 8
Mother's Day Present: A copy of He's Just Not That Into You

Nora Walker
Why She's Bad: She's the type of mother that refuses to see her children's faults and will therefore let them get away with anything, and help them to do it. However, her instincts to meddle are almost unbearable and she's unhealthily involved in her adult children's lives. Like all the other Walker brothers and sisters, she likes to keep secrets.
Worst Parenting Moment: Almost giving recovering addict son Justin a fix.
Reasons to Love Her: Who doesn't want a mom to tell you that you're great no matter what? And if you can't call up your mom to gossip, why bother to call at all.
Most Fucked Up Kid: Unrepentant embezzler Tommy.
Fun Scale: 5
Mother's Day Present: An iPhone.

Betty Draper
Why She's Bad: In a show full of mad men, she's a mad woman; your classic frosty '60s housewife who is June Cleaver on the outside and Sylvia Plath on the inside. Her children are like another accessory in her home, ones she can't connect to emotionally.
Worst Parenting Moment: Locking her kids in the closet, and smoking and drinking (a lot) while pregnant.
Reasons to Love Her: The hair, the clothes, the perfectly-cooked meals. Betty is retro fabulous.
Most Fucked Up Kid: Sally is already a petty theif, but we bet Bobby turns into the funnest coke fiend at Studio 54.
Fun Scale: 3
Mother's Day Present: Valium.

Jackie Peyton
Why She's Bad: She's a drug addict who feels more comfortable on the job than at home. Also, she's leading a double life and having an affair to keep herself in prescription drugs.
Worst Parenting Moment: Getting in a fight at her daughter's tap class.
Reasons to Love Her: She tries to keep things light and interesting, taking her daughters on outings and spoiling them because of her guilt.
Most Fucked Up Kid: Grace, a neurotic mess with an anxiety disorder.
Fun Scale: 6
Mother's Day Present: A new haircut.

Nicki Grant
Why She's Bad: We have no problem with her raising a family in the big love of polygamy, but she lies to and manipulates everyone around her, using her children as pawns. Also, she has such daddy issues of her own that she's barely fit to raise kids.
Worst Parenting Moment: Abandoning her brood to move back to the fundamentalist compound she came from, without telling her kids why she left of when she's coming back.
Reasons to Love Her: Nicki is the kind of trainwreck that is marvelous to behold. And when she's not quoting pat Bible platitudes, she can be dishy and fun.
Most Fucked Up Kid: On a show with this many children, we can barely tell them apart from the others.
Fun Scale: 2
Mother's Day Present: A Topsy-Tail

All of the story lines were running parallel last night, with the actions (and outfits!) of each set of characters reflecting back on the others. Whether they were at the same party, or getting fucked up in totally different setting, drugs, race, singing, and fabulous accessories were on everyone's minds, and their meanings were reverberating through a retro echo chamber. Let's just hope that "My name is Peggy Olsen and I want to smoke marijuana" isn't the precursor to "My name is Peggy Olson, and I'm a drug addict."

Getting Wasted: When Paul and Smitty decide to get stoned for some inspiration for their Bacardi campaign, as usual Peggy was not initially invited. To the protestation of her creepy new secretary, she forces her way into the boys' room to get in on the fun. Isn't that the story of her life? Of course, she gets totally wasted (for a girl who doesn't seem to know how to inhale) and for the first time sees clearly, not only about the ad they're working on, but also about her place in the firm—at least among the women. She gives a rousing speech to creepy secretary about how she is not afraid to be a trailblazer in a man's world, and finally sees that all her old chums in the secretarial pool are just nervous for her. Putting her insecurities about being in charge behind her (for good?), she orders the secretary to fix the Dictaphone and get her a glass of water. Cottonmouth is a bitch.

Things don't go as well for former secretary Jane, who had one too many mint juleps at the Kentucky Derby party she hosts with Roger. While under the influence, she has a run-in with Don, grabbing at his belt and asking why he doesn't like her. Roger comes into the scene and is ready for the confrontation with Don that has been brewing all season.

Invitations: Everyone was having parties last night. Aside from Roger and Jane's country club shindig, goddess of domesticity Joan opened her home for Rapist Doctor's surgical chums, and Paul and Smitty threw an impromptu party in the Sterling-Cooper office, but all of them had their unwanted guests.

When Don finally confronts Roger and tells him that everyone thinks he's sad for marrying his secretary bride, Roger says of his country club, "That's the great thing about coming here. You can be happy, and choose your guests." If only that were true, my man. If anything, Mad Men shows us that the idyllic lifestyle is merely a mirage, and intruders and interlopers lurk behind every highball. It's only those blinded by fantasy and their own ego don't see them.

Luckily both Don and Betty had their eyes open while wondering away from the other guests. Even in a controlled environment, their happiness is tested in unexpected ways. Don runs into a well-off gentleman from a humble past, and connects with him well enough to share a story about peeing in the trunks of cars when he was a valet at a fancy club. He makes Don remember who he truly is in these posh surroundings. Also having a reminder of faith is Betty, who flirts with a man while waiting for the restroom. When he lays his hand on her pregnant belly, it's the most intimacy we've seen her have with a man all season, before Don finds her in the garden and kisses her at the end of the episode. They may not be welcomed guests anymore (wait for Don's statements to Roger to have repercussions at work) but they have at least reconnected.

Performance: Joan deals with her own uncomfortable moments at her party, when it seems like Doctor Rapist is much better at the latter than he is at the former. But they both cover up the awkwardness the best way Joan can, with charm, guile, and talent. She busts out the accordion and gives everyone a chuckle with her French song. For Joan, the whole evening was a performance, setting the house up, cooking the dinner, entertaining the ladies, and doing her bit to make Doctor Rapist successful so that she can hang up her gold pen necklace for good. However, she's starting to see her new life is going to come with complications, like Doctor Rapist being a total asshole.

Paul also has to put on a show to prove his singing talent to his Ivy League drug dealer and his colleagues. After his pedigree has been challenged and his New Jersey roots revealed, he defends his role in Princeton's Tiger Tones by busting out a little ditty (not well, mind you). It's enough to satisfy his (stoned) coworkers, so Paul's posh artiface remains intact.

And speaking of performance, Roger really sang in blackface.

Racism: While Joan and Paul's performances were about saving face, Roger's was all about putting on another one. It's good to see that Don was squirming at the sight as much as most viewers at home, though many of the guests laughed, either cause they're casual racists, or because they're trying to keep the boss happy by playing along with his shtick. Either way, this performance solidifies Roger as a major asshole, if we needed that made any more plainly.

Racism was more subtly referenced when Grandpa Gene lost five dollars (which Sally stole from him to go get her lisp fixed). Carla, the Draper's maid, looks everywhere for it, knowing that she'll be blamed if the cash doesn't show up, even though the man who lost it (another guest who is wearing out his welcome) is slowly losing it. She even stands up for herself against the old meanie, who is either a casual racist or just doesn't know better. In the end, Sally creates a ruse to give the money back, and all is forgotten, for now.

Hats!: Our favorite Mad Men accessory was on full display last night. First, Jane shows up at Sterling-Cooper and runs into her old secretarial pals, including mother-hen Joan, and shows her dominance with a gorgeous black and white beehive number and matching outfit. The other ladies, heads bared, can do nothing but smile and follow her orders.

The real millinery jackpot though is at the Kentucky Derby party. Jane wears a peach and straw number that is again coordinated with her dress (like she doesn't have enough taste to buy anything but the set), while Pete's wife Trudy scores for the second time this season with a floral bowler. Harry's wife Jennifer misses the mark with a floppy yellow bucket that looks like it washed up alongside the Montauk Monster.

All of these head-toppers are just another layer of artifice, the women trying to show their status one of the few ways they can: with fashion. When Jane is finally drunk enough to go after Don, her hat is mysteriously missing, her artificiality and new-found extravagance stripped away by her loutish behavior. Also, none of the show's heroines—Peggy, Joan, and most conspicuously Betty—go bare throughout the episode. As if to say that they are incapable or unwilling to hide their true selves behind a ridiculous dome.

If last night's episode is still lingering in your DVR like cigarette smoke in the Sterling Cooper office, read this later. Otherwise, inhale our fresh dissection of last night's happenings. It's better than Patio and Ann-Margret combined!

1. Peggy Goes Down: After being nearly ignored last week, it's great to see our favorite female copywriter steal the show. Thanks to a seeing how her male coworkers react to a sexy Ann-Margaret in Bye Bye Birdie (which is coming back to Broadway!) Peggy plays the part of a sexy vixen, first at home in the mirror and then at a bar where she picks up a nice, young gentleman. She masks her profession to land the engineering student, faking like she's a receptionist as to not put him off. After a steamy run-in on the couch, she leaves in the middle of the night. She behaves like a girly girl to get the guy, but then behaves like a man once she's had her way.
Where This Is Going: Peggy is well on her way to becoming an emancipated woman. She's got the sex part down, next week she goes for the drugs, so she should be into rock 'n' roll by season's end.

2. Don's Father-in-Law Comes to Stay: Looks like the bun in Betty's oven isn't going to be the only new arrival in the Draper household. Don, the man who ditched his extended family, makes the decision to have his senile (or Alzheimer's-afflicted) father-in-law move in. Is this what Don is afraid of, being old and alone and alienated from a family that doesn't want to care for him? It was sweet to see the new Draper family portrait at the end of the episode (with Betty wearing her amazing shades), but we all know it's too good to last.
Where This Is Going: The decision to bring Papa into the house made Betty happy, but how well is she going to deal with two children, a newborn, and her father who thinks the cops are coming for his hooch? And they let gramps have a car! This will end badly.

3. Roger's Family Troubles: Roger's daughter is getting married and doesn't want his child bride to be at the wedding. In a double blow to his ego, his ex-wife has a date to the shindig, proving that life can actually go on without Roger. Anyway, he insists that his family get used to Jane, whether they like it or not.
Where This Is Going: Once a cheater, always a cheater. While his new wife becomes more inconvenient for his lifestyle, Roger will react the only way he knows how, by bedding more women. And female distractions are exactly what he needs, with his business crumbling around him.

4. The Brits Say "No" to Madison Square Garden: After Price tells Don to go after Madison Square Garden, which is facing public opposition to knocking down Penn Station to build the arena, Don naturally lands the account. However, Price says that the home office doesn't want the business after all. And this is after Price informed the honchos at Sterling Cooper that the British firm lost Campbell's soup.
Where This Is Going: Maybe they're not so good at this ad game as they claim to be. While cuts have already hit the agency, mismanaging the business might lead to another round of belt-tightening and the inevitable consequences.

5. Ken is Winning the War: Head of accounts Ken is shooting for the Patio account which will hopefully get him in good with Pepsi, and a lot more business. Meanwhile, head of accounts Pete, disastrously botches his first meeting with a potential Madison Square Garden client, which Don has to step in and save. And we all know how that one ended. So far it's Ken, one, Pete, zero.
Where This Is Going: Are they setting us up for inept Ken to luck his way into the top spot while Pete is shown the door? Hopefully whiney Pete will wise up and claw his way back to victory, leaving destruction in his wake.

Don't worry, we won't ruin anything about tonight's episode, but we will wonder, aloud, why last week's episode came complete with a "mature audiences" warning, while tonight's did not. Could it be that last week's episode featured some man-on-man action?

Yes, the aforementioned action was a bit racy — hand down boxers! — but c'mon! AMC has been quite cutting edge in its original programming and we commend Mad Men's delicacy in dealing with a closeted character living in the Sixties, but this has us shaking our virtual heads a bit. There are so many other things that could have been warned against, like the rape, racism, possibly even the pot smoking.

Even if we were to give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that AMC put the warning up after receiving hell for the show's first two scandalous seasons, why didn't they warn against some of the "adult" topics in tonight's episode, including some slightly naughty language, an advertisement that read "Rape on 34th St." and little Peggy Olson getting randy with things "other" than sex?

Thus, we're a bit astonished - dare we say "mad?" - about the singular notification.

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