JESUS, Betty, how about trying to be a mother at least once in a while? Of course, Sally doesn't want to talk to Betty about that…or anything else.

And of course, Don's only worried about what Betty will say. Predictably, Betty goes off the deep end when she sees Sally's hair, and slaps the poor kid. Don and Henry are both appalled, and Don storms out. Henry explains to Betty that she shouldn't take her anger at Don out on Sally. “Go upstairs and tell her you’re sorry, that you’ll take her to the beauty parlor and that she can still go to her sleepover. Believe me, kids do these things, and if you punish her, it’ll only make things worse.” He’s right, and she knows it, so Betty actually slums it like a common human being and apologizes. But it’s the only warmth she shows Sally, and even we the audience don’t get to see it.

At the office, a NYT reporter phones Draper for the scoop. Apparently, a similarly-sized (but not, according to Don, nearly as talented or accomplished) firm called CGC has a creative director, Ted Shaw, who believes he's the new Don Draper. And anyone who's followed this show for more than five minutes knows that you don't want to be the OLD Don Draper. But, rather than acknowledge this, or anything else for that matter, Don chooses a fifth of whiskey over crafting a response. Which does nothing to fend this guy off. I mean, the nerve. Ted shows up at the same restaurant where Don and Bethany are having dinner to brag about how both their firms are pitching the Honda motorcycle account. And he sends Don a bottle of sake, too. Every time, Don just shakes his head and is all, “Get off my nuts,” but Shaw persists. So Don chooses to settle the score, once and for all. And it’s DELICIOUS.

But there’s more to this Honda account than a pissing contest between two creative directors. There’s also beef between Roger Sterling and, uh, EVERYBODY. First, WWII vet Roger loudly voices his dissatisfaction with “the Japs.” Choosing to keep Roger out of the loop and to pursue the business anyway, Roger bursts in on their initial meeting with the Honda execs to denounce them and their “Jap crap.” The grand finale: “This meeting’s over. But they won’t know that until you drop the big one. Twice.” Astoundingly, Honda chooses to keep SCDP in the running (much to Roger’s chagrin). Of course, in the end, it’s Joan who talks him around, saying, “Roger, stop it. I know it was awful, but you fought to make the world a better place, and you won, and it is. Now I don't want to hear another word about it. My husband’s going to be in uniform any day now." I have a girl crush on Joan. She just knows how to swoop in and save things from going ker-splat. So Roger stops with the pity party and gets on board, sort of.

Anyway, Honda requested that all participating agencies read a book called The Chrysanthemum and the Sword, which is kind of like our modern-day Who Moved My Cheese? or some shit. One of the lines, which Don takes particular interest in, is this: “A man is shamed by being openly ridiculed and rejected. It requires an audience.” I find this interesting too: are we supposed to be Dick Whitman’s audience?

That weekend, Sally, with a fresh new ‘do, is the last one awake at her sleepover, and, being Don’s child she decides to masturbate to the Late, Late Movie. Of course, she hasn’t yet become as sly as Don, and she gets caught by the girl’s mother, who promptly takes her home. Betty is mortified, of course, but more for herself and her standing in the Ossining housewife pecking order. What’s funny is that Betty and Henry are, ahem, “in the moment” when the girl’s mother rings their bell in the middle of the night.
So, instead of boinking away their troubles, Henry and Betty decide that things have gotten serious enough to send Sally to a psychiatrist. Don’s response when Betty tells him about the sleepover: “Huh. Weird girl.” Stellar parents, these two. Don, still reeling from the idea of Sally seeing a psych, mulls it over with Dr. Miller on Monday morning: “Why does everybody need to talk about everything?” Yeah, really, Don. Why does the real world have to be so messy with FEELINGS and RULES and shit? Why can't everyone just chase their troubles away with some Canadian Club? Because some of us are 10, Don.

Meanwhile, Peggy, Pete, Joan and Don have all conspired to throw CGC for a loop during the Honda pitch. The Honda execs set forth very stringent rules: no final work, boards/copy only and a budget of $3000. Initially Don wants to actually film a TV spot, but doing so would bankrupt the fledgling agency. So Dastardly Don comes up with a plan: make CGC think that SCDP is doing a spot, so they spend the money to do the same, get pushed out of the Honda pitch and then can’t pitch any business the rest of the year. Things go according to plan, except that CGC’s spot is amazing. So Don chooses to take the high road and resign to Honda without pitching anything, citing the fact that CGC broke Honda’s rules. Honda is bowled over, and they give the project work to SCDP.

The wheels of capitalism continue to churn outside the office, too. Betty speaks to Dr. Edna, Sally’s new psychologist, “I feel like Sally is punishing me for getting divorced. She just doesn’t understand that this will be BETTER.” Um, Dr. Edna’s going to go ahead and insist on seeing your crazy ass four times a week, too. But as the doctor walks out, Betty sits there all weird eyeing the dollhouse in the corner. This shit is just SAD. And it only gets sadder as we see Carla and Sally in Dr. Edna’s waiting room the very next day, waiting and worrying. Especially because this is where the episode ends.

I'm officially depressed.

Miz J blogs at Ask Miz J.