Pete and Paul will soon be jetting off to Cali with Crab Colson to drum up some new business. SPACE BUSINESS. And though Don's the one orchestrating this little cross-country endeavor, he still tends to get all Chicken Little when rockets are the topic of conversation. Another thing he can't stomach is Paul's insufferable pomposity, which is why as soon as Kinsey speaks up, Don demands that Pete do all the talking out there. Pete says he'll try and wrangle an astronaut's autograph for Peggy's "nephews," and on a completely unrelated note, it's sweet when a father brings back a souvenir for his child.

At home, Pete tells Trudy she's not coming, and she's like, "is that why we can't make babies?" and he's like, "I meant you're not coming to California." He says she shouldn't be there because it'll make him look "less professional," but really it's so her presence won't hinder his plan to impregnate hundreds of homely-looking secretaries up and down the California coast. We learn that Trudy's been trying to sell Pete on the idea of adoption. He grimaces, even though the way she describes it sounds more like a visit to the Build-A-Bear Workshop. "It's not natural," he says. "We're not related by blood," she counters, "and you love me…" Pete's like, "sort of, but only because you promised me that my next short story would be featured in the Koala issue of Zoobooks. That's still happening, right?"

Betty calls Don's hotel room (rousing him from a 10 p.m. pass-out) to let him know that her dad has suffered a stroke. Don says he'll take her up to see him the next day. When they get there, it only takes about two and a half seconds for Betty to glare at her stepmom like she wants to kill her and eat her and strip the meat off her bones. Meanwhile, Gene (Betty's dad) looks healthy and mobile and remarkably like John McCain. Everything seems fine until he mistakes Betty for her late mother. Oops. Awkwardness hangs in the air, but at least he didn't try to grope her or anything.

Paul's black girlfriend/walking hipster cred Sheila pays a visit to Sterling Cooper, and Pete immediately brings up the California trip, even though it's as plain as the piggish nose on Paul's face that he hasn't told her yet. Sensing his ire, Ken leads Pete away with some very poorly chosen words. "Come on, Campbell," he says. "Time to put something else in that mouth." Somewhere nearby, Sal punches himself in the cock and says a dozen Hail Marys.

Sheila's pissed because Paul apparently told her he'd accompany her to a civil rights demonstration down South. He says that as much as he'd looked forward to getting sprayed in the face with a fire hose or beaten to a quivering pulp with a half dozen blood splattered nightsticks, duty calls. "Did you ever really plan on going down South?" says (SHE)ila, and he's like, "Not really. Totally rooting for you guys though." On the elevator ride down, he introduces her to Hollis in a hilariously unsubtle way that manages to come across as both desperate and condescending.

As she gazes up at a painting of her mother, the last one in the house her stepmom hasn't taken down, Betty learns from her brother that their dad's mental health has been deteriorating for some time. Speaking of which, over in the other room, Gene's dementia returns as he gets indignant with Don out of fucking nowhere, incensed over his son-in-law's mysterious past. "He has no people!" Gene bellows, surprising everyone at the table. "You can't trust a person like that!!" As family members rush to quiet him, Don maintains his composure.

Pete's mom has learned that he and Trudy are considering adoption, and threatens to withhold his inheritance if they do. Pete reminds her that there's no inheritance to withhold, then peaces out, not even bothering to hide a satisfied smirk. It's entirely possible he's going to adopt a kid just to piss her off.

Betty and Don undress and get ready for bed. Don dutifully prepares a spot on the floor and stays there, but in the middle of the night, Betty climbs down and wakes him up by climbing on top of him. After some ex-sex, they continue to sleep down there, leaving empty the comfortable-looking bed above. It's kind of sweet until you realize their backs are going to hurt like shit the next day.

Speaking of the next day… Oh man. OK, so at the breakfast table, Betty's dad gets a little confused again, and invites his own daughter upstairs. To have sex with him. Then, in case she didn't catch his meaning, he grabs her boob. Yikes. Does Betty really look THAT much like her mom? Anyway, John McCain is losing his fucking mind, and it's a pretty sad sight. Everyone at the table takes five to go extract that mental image from their minds via a power drill to the temple. Meanwhile the old family housemaid assures Betty that "the minute you leave, you'll remember him exactly the way he used to be," but Betty doesn't seem so sure.

When they arrive back home, Don says he wants to take a shower, and Betty says she wants him to GTFO. He's like" that's not what you said last night," but she tells him they were "just pretending." Don says nothing, but his frown says "actually I sort of wasn't this time." Isn't it ironic?

At the office the next day, the employees are holding a baby shower for Harry, which is why he's wearing a bonnet, I'm pretty sure. Everyone's having a great time, except for Hildy, who hides her unrequited love by drunkenly congratulating Harry on fatherhood and giving him a big sloppy hug. She's so freaking cute.
Bertram Cooper, hilariously out of touch and probably under the impression that he's doing some lucky underling a favor, walks in proclaiming: "I just wanted to say, happy birthday!" He walks back out, and after a moment's hesitation, everyone giggles. At least he was enthusiastic.

Don tells Joan he's decided to go to LA, which means Paul no longer is. Joan takes a shitload of pleasure in breaking the news to her bearded ex-beau, who looks like he wants to cry. He retreats to his office to retrieve his plane tickets, and while he's there informs Sheila that, after taking stock of what is truly most important to him, he's decided to join her at that protest after all. The next time we see him, he's riding in (the back of) a sweaty bus full of black demonstrators, going on and on about advertising as absolutely no one listens.

Pete drunkenly waves Peggy over to his office. "I'm going away, you know. On a plane," he says, waiting for her to care. He reminds her that this should be worrisome to her because his dad recently died on one of those things. Peggy doesn't bite. "Statistically speaking," she says, "it's very unlikely that it would happen to two people in the same family," even though she sort of hopes it does.

Betty is at home, hears a noise, and locks the door. Despite her anger toward Don, it appears she misses having a man around the house. The next day she walks outside to see what arose such a clatter, and it's that little creepshow Glen. Apparently he's been hiding out in Sally's play house FOR A FEW DAYS. He says his dad wants to regain custody, and that is mom is a giant whore whose boyfriends try to buy his love with baseball gloves. Betty's like, "Say no more dude. Come on in and let's get awkward."

She makes him lunch, then sits in the den and watches TV with him. When he reaches over and grabs her hand (!), she holds it back (!!). The squirm factor in this episode is on par with the British "Office."

"I came to rescue you," he tells her, and what's funny is how much he sounds like Don did last season when he tried to get Rachel to run away with him. But before anything weird(er) can happen, Sally and Bobby run in. Sally walks up and asks Glen if he wants to go look at her train set, and he looks disgusted by the sight of her. It's pretty much a shot-for-shot remake of the music video for "Stacey's Mom," except Betty's not wearing a bikini.

Glen's mom comes by later to ask Betty why she insists on making viewers so fucking uncomfortable, and Betty flips the script on her, eventually getting her to admit that she hasn't been a good mom lately. Betty then reveals that Don isn't living at home anymore. "Sometimes I feel like I'll float away if Don isn't holding me down," she says.

Meanwhile, Don IS floating away, escaping to Los Angeles on a magical airplane where the "No Smoking" sign actually turns off. God bless the 60s.