Scene: A sunny morning in Manhattan. Don Draper of “Mad Men” opens the window drapes in his office at Sterling Cooper then pours two glasses of scotch from the bar on his credenza. Roger Sterling sits stiffly on the sofa in Don’s office.
Don: “When Matthew Weiner created me, I believe he meant for me to have, well, a weiner. Guess they missed that in the negotiations with Mattel.”
Roger: “Yeah, I could use one of those myself.” (Don hands Roger his drink; Roger lifts his glass to Don).
Don: “And that’s even before he knew that my real name is Dick.” (Don tries to furrow his brows. Nothing happens.)
Roger: “At least they gave us arms – the better to drink with, as somebody says.” (Roger unscrews his left leg from his thigh, takes the scotch in his right hand and pours it through the plastic hole in his thigh). “Hit me again, Draper. It may not be wooden, but a plastic leg could come in handy.”
Before Don can get Roger another drink, there’s a knock at his office door.
Don: “Come in.” Don attempts to pull the cuffs on his sleeves down, but finds that have been sewn into his jacket. He looks toward the door. The door opens and Joan Harris is poised in the doorway.
Roger: “Jesus, Joan. Did you get a breast reduction, for God’s sake? You’re gonna give me another heart attack.”
Don: “I don’t know if ladies like Joan want to talk about that.” Don looks to the floor and puts his hands in his pockets. His pinkies stick out over the top of the pocket. He tries shoving them in, but again, his pinkies catch on the pocket opening.
Joan: “It was Greg. He’s still trying to work on his surgical skills. It’s okay; the man has no brains in his fingers.”
Roger: “Humph. So he’s decided to be a plastic surgeon? Could be money in that some day.” Roger stands and attempts to straighten his tie. “I already have a leg up, which is even better than a foot in the door.”
Joan: “I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I married him for his heart, not his hands.”
Roger walks to the door and turns to look at them before leaving. He eyes Joan’s hips from the back.
Roger: “Looks like he took a whack at your butt, too.” Roger closes the door behind him.
Joan looks to Don and tries to roll her eyes. They don’t move.
Don: “Sit down, Joan.” Joan moves to the sofa. She tries to cross her legs at the knees, then tries again with the other leg.
Joan: “Nothing is the same, Don. You, Sterling, me.”
Don: “And, Betts. Trapped in a party dress. What will the kids think when she shows up at school like that?” Don walks to the side chair and lowers himself in to it. He reaches for his cigarettes and offers one to Joan.
Joan: “Can’t. Had to give them up. Haven’t you heard?”
Don: “Burning plastic. I can live with the smell, but can’t live without the smokes.” Don attempts to light his cigarette. His thumb won’t slide down the igniter; he throws it across the room and puts his hand to his forehead. He sighs.
Joan: “It’s not about the plastic. It’s Mattel. An image thing. Surely you can understand.”
Don: “Yeah. I heard about the martinis. It’s why I’m drinking scotch this morning.”
Joan: “I just can’t believe they let my arms bend like this and it’s of no use since I can’t smoke.”
Don: “You can still put your hand on your hip, or, (Don clears his throat) what’s left of them.”
Joan: “At least this look has always worked for Betty. What does she think?”
Don: “Have you forgotten about the divorce?”
Joan: “Right. Reno. Plenty of plastic there. So you’re not even talking to each other?”
Don: “I’ll get a chance to tell her what I think. What she did to Sally and how it’s affected us all.”
Joan: “Don, I don’t know what you mean … what she did to Sally?”
Don: “She gave our poor little girl a Barbie. (Don attempts to shake his head, displaying empathy – to no avail. He reaches for his neck and guides his face from side to side.) “Sally had nightmares. Screamed bloody murder every time she looked at the damn doll. This was only a year ago, and look at us now. Betts should have known better.”
Joan: “I’m sure it was innocent. Betty probably just wanted Sally to slim down a little bit. You know, be more like Barbie. More like herself.”
Don has a flashback to the scene where the interior decorator that Betty brought in to re-do the living room is telling him “the hearth is the soul of the home.” Don lifts his glass and drains it, then smiles.
Don: “I hope Betts moves that antique chaise lounge right in front of the hearth with a roaring fire. It will look great with a plastic puddle of my ex-wife.”
Mattel, Inc., Lionsgate and AMC have introduced the Mad Men Barbie, for a mere $74.95 per doll, or $300 for the set. Poor Peggy is just too real to be included.