And so our season comes to an abrupt end. Ten months without Mad Men? I guess it's better than no more Mad Men ever, so I'll take it. With tensions rising all around the firm, it looks like tonight will be eventful. Let's take a look.

No "previously on", once again. We can see that Mona Sterling is back. Weiner both writes (with Carly Wray) and directs, which is cause for celebration.

We begin right at the Apollo mission, with Cooper uncharacteristically starting off the episode. He looks really into this, and gives a satisfied smile when the rocket takes off successfully. Meanwhile, other cast members are also up in the air, as Ted takes two Sunkist executives for a flight over the orange groves in his small plane. Unfortunately for the execs, he sounds vaguely suicidal as he's doing so. In fact, when they question his flying ability, he turns off the fucking engine. Right in mid-air. The execs understandably scream in the face of mortality, while he waxes eloquent about smoldering wreckage. Er, can someone prepare a bed next to Ginsberg, please?

He faces the consequences in the next scene as Cutler chews him out via phone from New York. We learn that Cutler was part of the bombing of Dresden, which honestly does not surprise me. Ted confesses that he wants to leave advertising, and asks a stunned Cutler to buy him out. Avery comes in to complain about a) losing a potential cigarette account and everything Don Draper. He still looks like an old cranky grandpa. Cutler calls him a "hired hand" and sends him on his way. For all his jerkassery, sometimes I really love Cutler.

Betty has a friend visiting, along with the friend's two teenaged sons, one of whom is likely to relieve Sally of her virginity by the time this episode is over. And indeed, there's flirting going on in about 0.0000005 seconds. Watch out, Betty.

Harry is bragging about his partnership, which he says has finally stopped the divorce talk at home. Considering all his California floozies, I'd say the moratorium is temporary at best - and Pete says as much on the show. Don tells him not to get cocky. The group runs through the Burger Chef pitch together. Don and Peggy are perhaps the friendliest they've been in the entire run of the show. I'm still wondering if Weiner will toss them into bed together, either in this episode or next semi-season. Everyone refers to the moon landing a lot.

Peggy goes home to her dingy apartment. She finds a (cute!) repairman at work, who mistakes the neighbor's kid - who apparently just wanders in and out bumming Popsicles - for her son. He also winds up giving her his number. Nice going, Pegasus.

Over at the Francis Mausoleum, Betty and her friend Caroline discuss their college days and their kids. Caroline's eldest son walks in practically naked. Naturally, he bumps into Sally as she heads out for her lifeguard job. Sally's old enough to have a job? Holy crap. She blushes the minute she sees him. Rather than flip out in her usual style, Betty just gives her a knowing look. As she leaves, Betty remarks that she doesn't usually wear lipstick...

Don arrives at work to find a solemn dimwitted secretary, instead of the usual bubbly one. She hands him a letter which accuses him of breach of contract. Yeah, they didn't even have the decency to tell him, they sent him a letter via attorney. Meredith, weepy, points out that he never even had contact with Commander Cigarettes. She grabs him by the chin (I am not making this up) and declares herself to be his strength, while he gives her the WTF look. She then kisses him. Eyebrows raised, he tells her to get his attorney on the phone. This is why we love Don Draper, folks.

Building on his badassery, he storms into Cutler's office for the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny. Cutler is snippy to the max, calling him "a bully and a drunk - a football player in a suit". Dramatic music plays as Don storms out and confronts Harry and Roger. He calls in Joan, Cooper and Pete for a more efficient shouting match. Ken comes along too, because why not. It turns out nobody knew about the letter, except Joan, who saw no reason to protest or to warn Don. Roger and Pete are both extremely upset. The former even calls a vote, on the spot. Cutler and Joan both vote yes, and so does an unknowing Ted via Cutler's proxy. I'm absolutely stunned that Joan would throw Don under the bus with so little hesitation, considering their warm relationship over the past few seasons. Cooper is outraged that his name was on the letter without his permission. The rest vote nay. Pete has harsh words for Cutler, in which he calls Don "a sensitive piece of horseflesh" (again, not making this up), but Roger is particularly concerned with Joan's betrayal. She says that she didn't actually know, but is "tired of him costing me money". Ouch, when did she get so cold? Nonetheless, she makes it clear to Cutler that he's made a giant mistake.

To be honest, I'm not sure if I really buy the heel-face turn. Joan might be exasperated by Don, but she's known him forever, has a good idea of his skill, and wouldn't make such a rash move when it could totally upend the agency. Unless there's some kind of explanation coming, I'd call this a misstep for sure.

Peggy gets a surprise visit from Julio, the kid next door, who wants to watch TV. She consults him for wardrobe advice, then promises to give him the key so he can watch the moon landing while she's off pitching to Burger Chef. Has he become her surrogate son now or what? He lets slip that his family's moving to Newark soon. He's disappointed at having to go, she's sad to lose him. I'm feeling shades of Glen Bishop here (and hey, what happened to him this season?). The kid goes for a hug. Peggy tries to comfort him, suggesting that things will be better there and promising to visit. By the end, they're both wiping away tears.

Don packs for Indianapolis, and on impulse decides to call Megan, who hasn't been murdered by the Manson family this week, either. He spills the whole story of the Work Incident. She encourages him to move on. Seizing on this, he suggests moving out West. There's an extremely long silence, which tells us all we need to know. "I'll always take care of you," Don finally says. More tears from both of them. And thus we close the door on Draper Marriage #2.

Roger bursts in on Cooper, behaving like a little kid as always. ("Take off your shoes." "I don't feel like it.") He complains about Cutler being a megalomaniacal asshat, and "Benedict Joan" taking his side. Though Cooper admits that Cutler went about it badly, it turns out he wants to ditch Draper too. "No man has ever come back from leave, even Napoleon," says Cooper, and thus we get out explanation for the title "Waterloo". Damn, I was so hoping it would be ABBA. Cooper explains that he is loyal to his "team", which includes Roger and Don, but not Cutler. Naturally, he considers himself the leader of said team. Disgusted, Roger walks out, leaving Cooper lost in thought.

Don, Pete, Peggy and Harry board the plane, where everyone is asked to turn off their cell phones extinguish their cigarettes for takeoff and Harry flips out when Peggy crosses herself. (She's concerned about the pitch, though, not the flight.) Pete gives Don the world's most condescending pep talk, but he means well and Don is gracious. Pete notices that Don seems down and suggests that he move out to California, citing Ted's new craziness as a good reason. He even name-drops Lane Pryce. When Don admits that he doesn't have a wife there anymore, Pete declares marriage to be "a racket".

Gene and Bobby are playing in the backyard. Sally runs out and declares that "It's happening!". The boys rush back into the house. At first I think it's Betty's inevitable OD on diet pills, and then I remember, oh yeah, moon landing. In Indianapolis, the Four Horsemen of the Burger Chef Pitch gather in Don's room to watch the big event. Roger and family (minus Margaret/Marigold, who is apparently still a hippie) tune in together. Grandson Ellery is seated on his grandfather's lap and sporting a jaunty space helmet. Everyone is utterly transfixed, and I have to say, it must have been mindblowing. It would be now had it not already happened. Don and Peggy exchange oh-please-Weiner-don't-put-them-in-bed smiles. Harry looks like he might cry again. Cooper watches with his maid, and the same little smile appears again. "Bravo," he says.

Over at the Francis-stein Place, Caroline's hot older son offends everyone by suggesting that the $25 billion could have been spent elsewhere. In this modern era with no Space Shuttle, a struggling economy and a healthy skepticism of the American Dream - though yes, maybe a burgeoning Cold War is in the works - this would be pretty sensible. But this is 1969, when the RAH RAH AMERICA flu hadn't quite been gotten over, so everyone tells him to STFU. Sally gets a call from her dad. When asked for her opinion on the landing, she apes Hot Older Son's opinions exactly. She may not be Betty 2.0, but she sure is a child of the '50s. He tells her to stop being cynical. Roger also gets a phone call, but this one is a tad more serious. You see, Bert Cooper's dead.

That's right, folks - one of the best characters on the show has kicked the bucket. To be honest, I'm shocked. Sure, it seems like one of the more obvious deaths, and it was hinted at a little in this episode, but still, Cooper? My heart is torn into a million little Mad Men-loving pieces. I may never wear shoes to work again.

In a terribly poignant scene, Roger goes to SC&P in the middle of the night to take Cooper's name off the office door. He runs into a weeping Joan. All their conflict is forgotten, and they embrace. Cutler is also there, full of condolences, but let's face it - nothing ever sounds sincere coming from him. "He was a giant," he says. Immediately the word "astronaut" pops into my mind. Giant - astronaut - Cooper - Blankenship - moon landing - and there's another moment where Mad Men blows my tiny mind. Joan suggests getting clients on the line immediately, and preparing an obituary, which is exactly what Joan would do. Cutler, showing the sensitivity of an elephant, suggests that they can use the death as a way to send off Don. Without Cooper's vote, and with Harry Crane, his dominance is clear. Roger takes him to task for pushing ahead his agenda when Cooper's barely cold. Joan looks stunned. Cutler says something like this:

Roger can't take it and storms out while Joan looks on in disbelief. I'm still reeling that we won't have Cooper to liven up the office anymore. He and the brilliant Morse will be missed on this show, for sure.

Sally goes outside for a smoke, where she runs into Nerdy Younger Son, who is watching the stars with a telescope. He invites her to take a look at the night sky, always a way to a girl's heart. Indeed, the second she gets away from telescope, she launches herself at him. Nerdy Younger Son is flummoxed and wonders what comes next. Unfortunately, his mom calls him inside. Sally has her cigarette and stares up at the stars.

Roger calls Don in Indianapolis with the news. He's feeling down, because not only has he lost Cooper, but he's going to lose his buddy Don, too. When Don hears about Cutler's shenanigans, all he can do is shrug and mumble something about consistency. "When an old man starts talking about Napoleon, you know they're gonna die," Roger sighs. He's a little drunk and maudlin, rambling on no matter what Don says. He urges Don to "give 'em hell tomorrow." Once Don hangs up, he lights a cigarette and begins to think. One eye is always on the moon landing.

This brings him to Peggy's door, where he hands over the pitch to her. She thinks he's playing a trick, of course, because it's Peggy. He explains that if he gets kicked out, she'll be left with nothing to go on, so he's giving it to her. She keeps refusing. After an "I believe in you" speech from Don, she agrees to practice, but is dismayed to realize she doesn't have any liquor.

Roger has a lunch date with a dude from McCann, who wants to take over SC&P (again), taking Roger, Don, Cutler and Ted with him. Roger will get to be president. Um, I can see a few problems there. Roger suggests he ditch the CGC side of things. With SC&P angling for Buick, McCann doesn't want competition. McCann puts forth its terms. The bottom line - Roger can't divorce Ted and Don. They're a package.

Peggy waits nervously at the Burger Chef pitch, staring at the old boys' club around her while thunder roars in her ears. Don pushes her off the proverbial diving board by extolling her virtues as Burger Chef expert extraordinaire. He gives the introduction all the gravitas needed, giving Peggy the perfect opening. She pulls off a brilliant pitch, talking about how people are starved for connection in these troubled times and how the moon landing brought them all together. She also blatantly uses her connection with Julio, suggesting she'll come home to a ten-year-old boy eating dinner. (More like poaching Popsicles, but I digress.) She describes the dinner table as a "battleground" for family connection, painting an incredible picture of people "starving...and not just for dinner". Of course, there's another table where this can be achieved - at Burger Chef! Both Elisabeth Moss and her character absolutely destroy this scene. It's brilliant. I'd go so far as to compare it to Don and the Kodak Carousel. Everything about it hits the target, right away. The executives are bowled over. Pete grins like an idiot. Peggy and Don have done it again.

Don arrives home to find Roger at his door, evasive and flippant as usual. He tells Don about the McCann deal. Don points out that the reason SCDP happened in the first place was because McCann wanted to buy them and they're the independent type. He's skeptical, to say the least, though Roger claims to know what he's doing. Roger yammers on about Cutler's mission to destroy the firm, which hits a nerve with Don. Looks like things are going to change, and soon.

The partners gather because Roger has an announcement. Cutler is zeroing in on Operation Get Rid of Don, and has chosen a cheesy office memorial for Bert, complete with poem. Ted keeps trying to resign, but no one's listening. Pete is mostly concerned about Burger Chef. Also, his hair is stupider than ever. I mean, look at this.

We settle down for Roger's big announcement. Everyone's taken aback, especially Cutler. Joan is won over when she realizes that her share will be worth $1.5 million, and so is Pete when he learns his will be double. Harry arrives for the partners' meeting, only to learn that since he hasn't signed yet, he's missed out on the big windfall. Roger unceremoniously tosses him out. Aaaaand luck leaves Harry Crane in the dust once again. Sorry, buddy, you can play again next time.

Don agrees with the plan, of course, outright blaming Cutler for the agency's woes. He's even willing to accept the five-year contract imposed by McCann. Ladies and gentlemen, that means Don Draper will be employed up to 1974. You know, the era of polyester and hairspray. That's a long way from Camelot, isn't it?

Ted attempts to resign once again, and is shut down once again. Everyone jumps on him for tanking the deal and being a weakling. Don tells him how bad it was to be unemployed, and this seems to get to him. When he hears he can move back to New York, he's in. All the partners vote in favour, even Cutler after some peer pressure. They exit the meeting, whereupon Peggy takes Don aside and tells him they got Burger Chef. "They heard what I heard," says Don, and the two share a quick hug. He wanders downstairs, where he runs into...Cooper?

For a moment I wonder if Don's been into the speed again, but no, Weiner's just decided to take another odd turn in order to give Bert/Robert Morse a proper sendoff. He even starts to sing ("The Best Things in Life Are Free"), and since Mad Men has apparently turned into Glee, all the secretaries know his perfectly choreographed dance. Don stares in confusion, and yeah, I kind of do too. Is this the part where we wake up and find out it was all a dream, and Dick Whitman is still in Korea?

It's a strange interlude, and over very abruptly. Don is left in an empty hallway while the agency buzzes around him. End credits.

Well, I'm going to call it now - best season finale (and it is a season finale, the split-season thing notwithstanding) since Season 3. It brought Peggy full circle, shook up the agency, and dealt with the departure of a character very gracefully, all while working in the decade in the way we know and love. Not sure how I feel about the musical number, but if it's a flaw, it's minor. The gang is back, SC&P keeps going, and the world continues to spin, even in the midst of drastic upheaval. I'm sad to see this part of Season 7 end, but it's been a great adventure. Join me next spring for the dramatic conclusion.

And on another note, this is my last recap of the season. I've had a wonderful time doing this, even when it got crazy. I hope you've enjoyed it as well. See you in September with the return of the shows you know and love!

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