'Whaddya Say We Get Outta Here and Really Celebrate?': Mad Men Recapped

This calls (I guess) for another flashback to that time pesky, Double-Breasted Don accosted Roger outside the old office, where he offered to buy the old man a drink despite it being 10 a.m. Roger acquiesced, plunging into a drunken midday judgment lapse during which he unwittingly hired Don. Or so Don tells him days later when reporting to work. This is how it began! It's like date rape, but for jobs. Anyway, flash forward to the post-Clio party, where Roger has, in Joan's words, "crossed the border from lubricated to morose." But he has his reasons: "They don't give awards for what I do." Joan asks what that is. "Find guys like him." Indeed! After a gallon of martinis, sure, and by accident (assuming, of course, Don didn't just make it up), but let's give the man some credit.

Across the bar, Don attempts to capitalize on the spoils of his awards triumph, striking out with Faye Miller before closing the deal with a mystery brunette who hums a mean cake-toppings jingle as an overture to fellatio. Don awakens later -- much, much later, like two days later, after what appears to be a 36-hour bacchanal capped off with a mystery blond in bed with him and a not-so-mystery blond on the phone. "Where are you?" Betty belts; she and Henry have plans, during which Don was supposed to watch the kids. Calm down, Bets! Don was supposed to be there Sunday. "It is Sunday!"

Cue apology, click and hangover -- plus a house call from Peggy, who wasn't able to reach Don via phone during his drunken post-Clio plunge. They need to talk about Danny, whose derivative tagline Don himself unwittingly stole. "You have to bring him in right away," she says, emboldened as ever to Don's bewildered face. "Fix it." Which Don does on Monday, offering the young man $50, then $100 as a freelance fee. "I don't need money," Danny replies. "I need a job." And so the circle remains unbroken, and the smug, entitled phenomenon known as the baby-boomer generation makes its Mad Men debut. Great.

At least Ken Cosgrove looks like he's coming back -- despite Pete's initial protests. You can't hold it too much against Pete; Lane went behind his back in search of a proven accounts man, which isn't exactly the way you treat a partner. "Roger's a child," Lane explains, "and we can't have you pulling the cart all by yourself." That's something, and when Ken's first official SCDP meeting actually takes place, Pete takes the necessary (if appallingly dickish) steps to lay out the terms of Ken's employment: "This is a small shop, and I need to know you can do as you're told." Shock, resistance, recognition and realization take over Ken's smiling face, followed by a nod. The band's back together! Let the internecine loathing commence.

And finally, there's that little matter of Don's precious Clio statuette, which he left behind at the bar. It's just the latest in the long tail of humiliation following Friday's big win, amplified by Roger's retrieval and refusal to return it until Don says he couldn't have done it without him. It's a substantial request to make of a man as hungry as Don, yet Roger makes it with as much modesty as such a request can really confer. Perhaps this is Weiner's thanks -- his nod to the David Chases of the world in whose afterglows their proteges still shine. Or maybe it's a vague handing of the torch to Breaking Bad, allowing for the possibility of a Mad Men Emmy loss but the moral and creative high ground. I can't decide. In any case, I sincerely just hope the show's Emmy afterparty yielded better results for all.

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