Charlemagne II : the Charlemagning : Frankish Boogaloo
This time, it's liturgical.

The Queen'll give him a handie.

He shed the blood of the Saxon man!

Along with Joan's accordion, Roger's blackface and Pete's Charleston, we got the variety act from hell.

I was hoping a tapdancing Cosgrove would square off against a Charleston-ing Pete in a dance battle a la West Side Story.

200-pound Negro prostitutes, son.  With chewing gum in our pubis.

Whatever the hell that doctor gave Don, it wasn't your (eldery Negro) granny's formula.  His ordeal stuck me as that of a man on a speed binge - all jittery and rubbery, working madly but producing nothing, and freaking everyone out.  Bad trip right there.

Flaming hair and ruby lips
really juicy lady bits
Terror fills the dark night
she's a freaky ginger for the Lord of Light

Chekov's Dragonglass?

Eh, no skin off my nose.

Robson & Jerome, of course, being an offshoot of the obscure Brit series Soldier Soldier, itself dotted with some current GoT luminaries.

Is that what the kids call it these days?

Are you suggesting Tywin sleeps?  I assumed he remained hunched in a perpetual state of cat-like readiness.

Then we would really see him 'getting medieval'.

Better than losing it!

Has Joanie finally found her knight in beige polyester?

I'm sticking with my douchebag theory.

For a guy who was raised rural, it was pretty dumb of Don to think dairy farmers would use margarine.  What is this, the Siege of Paris?

I hope you didn't take the shower.

Only a guy like Pete Campbell would manipulate his mother's dementia for his own ends (it's St Patrick's Day!).  Class act, all the way.