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“House of Cards” recap (2.7): Everybody wants

We open on an attack ad. Sharp, Womack, Birch and Frank Underwood are all featured as bad picks by the President in an opposition party ad from an unknown SuperPAC. Looks like the midterm elections are in jeopardy and the President is pissed. Frank’s up for finding the source of the money and strangling it. The meeting breaks up, but, whoops, Frank has to stay after class.

President Walker bitches that Frank was supposed to steer Congress and was not supposed to be unproductively (from the President’s point of view) meddling in everything else. Walker says he should have listened to Tusk and kept Frank stuck in Congress. Ouch. The President gives him a hell of a spanking, and Frank takes the old play-martyr-when-you’re-guilty tactic, telling the President to keep using him as a punching bag or let Frank get back to work. Oh, my, we’re all pissed off. Good.

Frank and Doug are in with a consultant. Looks like this new money for the opposition is coming from one of their own past donors. It takes Frank about three hot seconds to connect the dots back to Tusk, which is still a scene later than the rest of us did.

Back at Freddy’s, a newspaper reporter is interviewing Freddy as part of a “human interest” story. Freddy’s handling it well. Say what you will about Frank and his scheming and murdering; he’s also been a loyal customer for 20 years.

President Walker is in the middle of a walking-talking meeting and stops to look at something: A regulation-size punching bag with a big white bow on it. I take a moment to wonder if it’s full of snakes, but judging by the card, it’s a peace offering. The President smiles, not realizing he is extra-doomed.

I’m fascinated by the choice they made for Frank’s handwriting. It’s not as artificially careful as I’d expect his to be.

Doug is in a casino horse racing bar, ordering club soda. The waitress bonds with him over sobriety, and then we see that Doug is being seriously surveilled. The guy doing the surveilling is casino owner Dan Lanagin, whom we all suspect of funneling Tusk’s money into this shady new SuperPAC. Aren’t post-Citizens United political funding rules awesome? Dan Lanagin would like to know what the hell the Vice President’s right-hand man is doing there. Betting on horses and figuring out how to cockblock you, sir.

Aww. It’s nighttime at the White House and Frank and Walker are bonding over drinks. Frank is deliberately eating a little crow and they’re having fun over the gift: An actual punching bag. Uh-oh. The Walkers are planning to come to Murky Towers to dinner. Bring a food taster. Walker loves the White House and its history, and Frank loves spouting aphorisms. Seriously, he’s out of control in this scene. The two try to feel some Harry S Truman vibes and… fail. More bonding.

Doug seems to be done with the betting and the being surveilled for the moment; he has manifested at the waitress’s place. She makes a show of tidying up for him, then asks Doug which panties he wants her in. This would be an almost explicit scene if the waitress’s lights actually lit up her apartment, but it’s House of Cards, so they don’t. I worry what will happen if one of the characters on this show ever needs to read prescription instructions or a newspaper.

Hello! Jackie Sharp decided she liked Remy’s apartment and/or pecs pretty well after all. She’s lounging quite comfortably in bed as he gets dressed. Remy seems a little sad that Jackie only seems to want one-night stands. He says he’s a big flirt, but he only sleeps with someone when he’s into her, and he prefers to stay and cuddle. Aww, Remy just showed us the hidden soft side of lobbying. Jackie makes a joke and Remy gets sad-pissed and says he’s not giving it up again unless his relationship with Jackie is leading somewhere. Kudos, show, for taking that reversal on the traditional roles and just playing it out realistically instead of for laughs. Well done.

Doug is vertical again, having literally pumped the waitress for information on Lanagin’s casino. Well done, Doug, you slut. He tells Frank that three or four times a year, a group of wealthy Chinese dudes fly to Lanagin’s Missouri pleasure palace and drop millions of dollars. Doug’s going to run down that plane, probably by flying after it. The besheeted waitress totally calls Doug on the fact that he was thinking about Rachel the whole time. Ooh, that stings. Doug leaves her his ten-year sobriety chip.

In the Whip’s office, Claire is discussing strategy for her pet legislation and she, Jackie Sharp, and Frank wonder how to whip up support and co-sponsors. The Underwoods’ duelling media handlers, Connor and Seth, both immediately pull out their dicks and start measuring them, and then they whip them around the room like Willow Smith’s hair. Seth wins by suggesting the New York Times Magazine and knocking one of the antique paintings off the wall.

Jackie, in a hell of a mood, asks Nancy to read the bill and summarize it for her-and share it with no one.

Oh, Remy, you pig. Remy sits on one side of two angled park benches and sneakily asks what’s up with Claire’s abortion. On the other bench, Seth (!) lies that her story checks out. Remy is frustrated and wants new dirt on Claire then. Remy, Claire is going to have your entrails for a stylish state dinner boa. Seth claims that if the Underwoods have skeletons, they’re buried deep.

Seth is tired of Connor being around and having to knock so many knickknacks off the mantelpiece, so Remy says he’ll find him a job offer. Remy tries to pay Seth for half his work, but Seth won’t take payment until he delivers. He could have delivered Claire, so what the hell is his game?

Frank has his fake serious face on as he talks with Linda Vasquez, saying that he doesn’t think the party leadership will go for her unified funding and publicity proposal. Vasquez is all “Duh, that’s why I need your help,” but Frank is distracted by texts from Doug. Yup, those deep-pocketed Chinese gamblers were flown in by Tusk’s planes-38 trips since 2005. Frank tries to bail on the meeting so fast that the wind undoes Linda’s hair bun. Doug is already getting a plane ticket.

Frank gets Tusk on the horn and immediately asks if Tusk is funneling money to the Republicans. At least their meetings are more efficient now that they openly loathe each other. Tusk, with Lanagin right there in his office, lies that he never makes campaign contributions. Frank connects the dots out loud and Tusk just smugchuckles. Frank threatens that the Democrats will only unite harder, and Tusk maaaaybe lets it slip that he’s been using Lanagin’s money laundering to stack Congress since way back. Frank’s outnumbered.

Tusk knows he’ll get caught once the financial reports come out, but by then his work will be done and Frank’s House majority will have been lost in the midterm elections. Frank won’t tell the President because it will make him look uninformed. He’s going to keep schtum for a bit. Schtum and furious.

(Spinning newspaper!) Meanwhile at the Wall Street Telegraph, feisty reporter Ayla Sayyad is, with the help of a Chinese-speaking pal, digging into a secret hedge fund named Mercury Capital-and she knows that principal investor Tusk has strong ties to the White House.

Frank paints a model soldier (Augustus?) while Claire wonders aloud what to serve the Walkers. Claire suggests serving Freddy’s ribs, which is an improvement on Frank’s suggestion of cyanide appetisers with ground glass cocktails.

Oh, wow, Frank’s battlefield model is just a tiny bit obsessive. Claire prefers it to video games… For now.

Doug has manifested in China, pretending he flew there on a plane. Both negotiators dive right in, with Feng revealing he knows Doug has been at the casinos and Doug revealing that he knows Lanagin is a front for Tusk. They couldn’t do this over the phone? Doug wants the money to stop flowing to Republicans, and Feng delays on his counterproposal. He suggests that Doug appreciates the beauty of his gardens. Doug says “People like you smell flowers. Some of us have to pull the weeds,” which is pretty much the perfect summation of Doug’s job. Except sometimes the weeds get murdered, and sometimes you pluck a flower and keep it in a ratty little apartment in Baltimore.

Feng asks Doug to stay as his guest so Feng has time to think. I am concerned that Doug will get a last-minute plane ticket home from China and have to take a middle seat in Coach across half the goddamn globe, which could push him over the edge from Evil Minion straight into Berserker.

Feng wants Doug to relax and enjoy the beauty, implying that there will be sex workers at his disposal, like any good host would. I hope Doug brought his own plastic bags.

Back at Murky Towers, Frank texts with Doug as he finishes getting ready for dinner. He wants Doug to stay in China until he has answers and for Doug to refrain from getting quintuple blow jobs long enough to call Lanagin and get him to D.C. Fortunately Doug’s thing isn’t oxygen deprivation, so he can multi-task with some phone calls.

Frank has a chat with Seth. He would like Seth to know that the Underwoods are private people, and he compliments Seth on his initiative on reaching out to the widow of Claire’s doctor. And then Frank leans forward and in his silky I-will-cut-you voice asks Seth just what the fuck he is up to. Seth immediately reveals that he was hired by Remy, who is looking for all the dirt he can get.

Seth is hammocking his power players, attaching to one so he can get his other side hooked to the next. He says that Tusk just has money, but Frank has power, and power is what he’s after. Frank likes that answer, but is not so dumb as to blindly accept it. Seth offers to cease contact with Remy, knowing that Frank will instead try to use Seth to find Tusk and Remy’s weak spots.

Tricia Walker walks into the Oval Office, where the President is meeting with Christina. Walker seems to be getting more reliant on Christina, and wow, does Mrs. Walker hate that. They’ll be bringing wine to dinner at the Underwoods, but NOT ANY WINE THAT CHRISTINA RECOMMENDS. Any wine that Christina recommends is getting thrown straight onto the White House lawn.

Back in China, which is also full of light fixtures that don’t throw light more than a few inches. Maybe they’re all made by Tusk? Doug is sleeping in his clothes and two women come into his room. One begins to kiss him, which is just rude: The man is severely jet lagged. Doug gets up and moves away, asking the women to leave. How sweet to be loyal to the woman he’s essentially keeping hostage. Well, except for the one waitress. Doug leaves her a creepy message, just to keep the magic alive.

Ayla Sayyad has added up a few billionaires and buttonholes Seth to ask about a backchannel to China and what the hell with the White House suddenly pushing rare earth subsidies during an energy crisis. She wants to know whether the Vice President knows Tusk. Dang, that woman can report. Stick to taxis, Ayla, and only catch them in well lit, well populated locations!

In the Presidential limo, Walker ignores his wife and focuses on President Stuff until Tricia finally brings up the problem that Christina is trying too hard to be helpful. And, um, might want to bang her husband. Walker dismisses it, saying Christina is a good aide and he’s not moving her to another position. And then he cuts off the discussion just a little too quickly.

Dinner at Murky Towers is over, and Freddy is accepting the compliments for his ribs. Everyone compliments Freddy on his newspaper article too, and Freddy is delighted by all the new business. The President refuses a slice of pie, and now Mrs. Walker thinks he’s keeping in shape for his new floozy. Tricia has some Pie of Defiance while the Underwoods dragoncuddle about jogging together. Walker interrupts his wife once, twice, and then on the third one, has a slice of pie after all. Frank and Claire caress each other with their heat vision while they use their claws to delicately trace the cracks in the Walkers’ marriage.

Claire’s Congressional bill is ready: The Countering Sexual Assault in the Armed Forces Act of 2014. Or CSAAFA, for not-very-short. Jackie’s Congressional confidante Lauren says the bill will cause a shit-storm during mid-term elections, but it’s a good bill for a good thing. Jackie’s spider senses are tingling, though, and she wants to hold off on getting co-sponsors. Lauren takes off and Jackie calls Remy, then hangs up. She starts to read the bill.

Frank shows the President his model battlefield and gives him some more of the Underwood bourbon stash. The President is relaxed enough to ask Frank to call him by his name when they’re in private.

Tricia confides in Claire about her marital troubles, confirming for us that her instincts are the absolute worst. Tricia asks Claire how she and Frank stay twined in such perfect dragonlove, and Claire explains that the couple that murders together-oh, um, it’s just good communication. Claire counsels Tricia that the White House is temporary, (particularly for you, duckling), but marriage is forever.

Feng meets Doug at his outdoor breakfast nook. Feng brings up the fact that Doug refused his prostitutes. Which feels like some rude hosting, but Feng explains that in China it’s rude to refuse a gift the first time. Doug wants to know what Feng wants to stop airlifting Hefty bags full of money to the Republicans, and Feng says he wants the bridge. You know, the one that Feng himself yanked away a few months ago. I am very impressed with Doug for not flipping over the table and screaming “Are you KIDDING me?!” He must really be jet lagged.

But, yes, Feng’s allies want that bridge, and Feng needs to avoid another corruption trial and also getting disappeared. Bridge first, then the money junkets stop.

In Claire’s office, Connor is bailing on his job. Claire gives him the “you’ll be missed” speech and immediately calls Seth to put out a press release with a positive spin. Welp, so long, Connor! Don’t let the door hit you! And let’s hope you’re getting paid enough to not mention Claire’s shaky abortion timeline to anyone!

Hey, Freddy is hitting the big time. He’s being offered a family restaurant chain and a retail barbecue sauce with his name on it. $95,000 up front, then a share of the profits. If only Freddy knew someone with a shrewd and skeptical legal mind to look out for him.

Back at Murky Towers, Dan Lanagin is waiting, wondering how the hell they make the lights only glow inward and whether that would be a good thing for the area right around his slot machines. Dan inexpertly pretends he doesn’t know Tusk or Feng, then skips to the part where Frank offers him something in exchange for not pulling station wagons full of hundred-dollar bills up to Republican campaign offices, leaving the doors unlocked, and sauntering away with an elaborately casual air.

Frank offers a direct line to the White House, which, when added to a nickel, will get you no cups of coffee and a pull on a nickel slot machine. Dan wants some tangibles: Money, houses, cars. And he’s not happy about being let in through the back door, thanks. Interesting: Dan Lanagin is the anti-Seth. Frank keeps up with his whole White House Ties line, and Dan points out that as a Native American, handshake deals with the federal government do not have a huge appeal for him.

Lanagin does not want Frank’s influence or his respect. He’s out. Upstairs, Claire hears a crash and comes down to see that Frank has upended his miniature battlefield. Frank says “It’s not broken, I can fix it,” meaning everything, and Claire comes over to dragonspoon him and suggests a run to burn off steam. The Underwoods are just coming down in their ninja running gear when Doug materializes.

Frank chastens Doug for not calling him before his flight took off-for Chrissakes, Frank, cut the man some slack!-and Doug says he was worried his communications were being monitored and also he kept having to pull sex workers off of him. Short conference: Lanagin no; Feng maybe.

The Underwoods are running in the complete goddamned dark. Do dragons get too sensitive to light because they spend so much time in caves? Is that what’s going on with the lighting on this show? The Underwoods are the darkest shadows in the darkness of Washington, D.C., running as hard as they can. But running together. Towards what, we don’t know.

We’ll find out next week.

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