2:2 The Aristocracy of Pull, “Sham Marriages”

PREVIOUSLY: A lot of stuff. Catch up.

It’s the night of Jim Taggart’s wedding! What the shit, you say? Yes, that’s right — in the months between Part One and Part Two, Jim has pitched his sketchy-ass woo at Poor Poor Cheryl (two different kinds of ‘poor’), and things have escalated rapidly.

Stuck in neutral, however, is Dagny’s quest to salvage the world-saving motor. She’s currently in her office going over the latest report from Quentin Daniels, her latest covert reverse-engineer (who shall henceforth be known as Q. Obviously). According to me Q, the motor is basically an Ion Drive, like spaceships use, and it’s pretty busted.

Dagny has also asked her cigarette-collecting friend the Friendly Shopkeep to track down the manufacturer of the mysterious dollar-sign cigarette, but he has found nothing. Though she is more certain than ever that some esoteric force is undermining society from the shadows, there is nothing else for her to do but go to her brother’s wedding.

Meanwhile, Hank Rearden has just concluded a business meeting with Ken Dannager, the country’s top remaining coal producer. The meeting was illegal because it wasn’t attended by the state Planning Bureau, but they’ve agreed to supply each other on the black market to keep the lights on and the trains running. Literally. Now alone in his hotel room, Hank fondles himself to thoughts of going to Dagny’s — yet who should bust in but his miserable wife Lillian.

See, she wanted to surprise him on one of his many, many New York trips. And maybe even catch him with a hooker or something, because she’s pretty sure he’s sleeping around on her at this point. But aaanyway, he’s coming to Jim Taggart’s wedding with her and there’s no two ways about it. It should be a spectacle if nothing else; the bride is some ill-bred shopgirl nobody. My, how absurd! she tuts while fanning herself.

And though Hank has given up feeling guilty for keeping Dags on the side, he can’t quite bring himself to blow up his own spot yet, so he consents to attend. Yay, tradition!

Poor poor Poor Poor Cheryl.

Cut to: Poor Poor Cheryl, standing before the mirror in her bare, slummy apartment, studying herself in her wedding dress and trying to figure out how she got here. It’s been such a whirlwind courtship, full of dazzling highs and morally unsettling lows. Cheryl recalls all the times Jim would show up at her place an emotional wreck, cuddle up beside her and vent his spleen about how vile and corrupt his colleagues are, and about how his behavior is different, right? Because it’s selfless, right?

Poor Poor Cheryl thinks back also to those times when she had to meet all of his social peers, and how terribly dismissive and condescending they were to her. How he seemed to relish rubbing her background in their faces, seemed almost disappointed if things didn’t get awkward.

Oh yes, and most of all she remembers the night he proposed to her, drunk, in the trash-strewn alley outside her apartment door.

I just want to say Cheryl, for Christ’s sake, wake up, get the fuck out, he’s going to make a coat out of your skin. But Cheryl is an idiot. She is so unbearably naive, and admires Jim because she thinks he’s responsible for the rMetal railroad, so she ignores all of the warning signs and departs for the ceremony.

Cut to: after the ceremony! Thank God we skipped that. The reception’s the good part anyhow. Jim is hobnobbing with all his cronies — Boyle, Larkin, Balph Eubanks, etc. He’s trying to discretely scan the room for Welsey Mouch but Mouch doesn’t seem to be there. Boyle can tell what he’s doing and needles him for it.

“Worried your pull in the capital is waning?” Boyle teases him. They have a pissing contest about who has stronger connections and who’s making the right moves to see their agenda enacted. It’s like a Varys/Littlefinger scene from Game of Thrones.

Meanwhile, Poor Poor Cheryl is wandering around in a PTSD haze and ignoring all the people at the party who are insinuating which political favors they’d like her to ask her new husband about. She sees Dagny and takes the moment to confront her. “Hey bitch, Jim tells me all the time about how you make his life a living hell, so you best step off because I’m the woman of this family now.”

Aw, Cheryl’s so cute. This just amuses Dagny, who replies, ‘That’s quite all right. I’m the man.’ Cheryl just Doesn’t Get It. Points for moxie though.

Hank, worn down to a dickless nub by having to stand next to his wife all night, has retreated to a corner. He observes Dagny’s awesome cattiness toward Cheryl with proud desire. Her sheer badassery makes him want to simply announce their liaison to the room and then nail her on the dance floor.

"We are shitty in similar ways." -Jim & Lil

Jim has likewise retreated to the corner to alleviate the pressure of shitty social obligations, and Lil Rearden approaches to congratulate him. She slyly hints that her gift to him is making Hank come with her — Rearden’s presence boosts Jim’s networking cache with the other guests and helps his appearance of influence. Jim is genuinely impressed at the way she works the angles and tells her she’s wonderful. She is pleased, and they realize for perhaps the first time that they see eye to shifty eye.

As Lillian leaves Jim’s side, she passes Dags and notices that Our Gal Dagny is wearing the rMetal bracelet that she took from Lil at the last big party they both attended. Giving in even further to her lashing-out-hate-spiral, Lillian steps up to D and all sickly sweet goes, “Oh, did you know Hank and I would be here tonight?”

Dagny’s like, “Uh, no. I could give two shits about this wedding.” Lillian’s detached facade is straining. “Well then why exactly are you wearing that bracelet? Is that not like a gag?” And Dagny proudly says she wears it all the time.

That’s Lillian’s last straw. She demands it back. Dagny refuses. Hank comes over but doesn’t break things up like last time. Lillian insists Dagny take off the rMetal. Doesn’t she know what people will think?

Dagny just whips out her enormous lady-dick. “Are you accusing me of fucking your husband?” Oh shit, son! Bald-faced. Lillian’s eyes panic and she immediately backs down, “No no no, never.” But Hank ups the stakes even more, and demands that Lillian apologize to Dagny for sullying Ms. Taggart’s good name. Wow kids. This is some pretty twisted gaslighting by our heroes.

So Lillian slinks away in defeat and Hank and Dagny eye-fuck forever.

Back at the center of attention, one of Jim’s sleazebag friends toasts the groom for being so selfless and progressive, a real moral paragon. It is a shame more businessmen can’t be like him. Jim takes the kudos and declares that he hopes to continue setting an example for his peers by which the ‘aristocracy of money’ can be replaced by —

‘The aristocracy of pull,’ chapter-name-drops Francisco D’Anconia as he walks into the reception unannounced, like he do. Awww this party just got started y’all.

NEXT — 2:2 cont’d, “Chasing Paper”

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