The latest episode of The Chair Company opens with a scene that evokes the opulent drama of another iconic HBO Sunday night show. Jeff, Ron's boss, sits around a crackling fire in Sedona with his wealthy pals, flaunting their wealth in a Succession-esque manner (though not quite as exorbitant). In a heart-to-heart with his buddy Danny, Jeff laments about escaping the grind and stepping away from the mundane. But Danny reminds him that this is life itself. If work becomes the sole purpose of waking up, rather than a means to a secure and fulfilling life, what do you truly have? Danny's words jar Jeff, who takes immense pride in the time and energy he dedicates to work. When he returns to the office, Jeff sets out to shake things up with the mall design, showing the team pictures from his trip as vague inspiration but refusing to elaborate further, stifling all their creative ideas and mood boards. The team is drained and frustrated, but Ron takes it the hardest personally, especially after Jeff dismisses him during a meeting and orders him to "just keep us under budget." Ron is tempted by the memory of last week's dented head, toying with the idea of inflicting the same kind of violence on Jeff (picture them in a Horrible Bosses sequel).
Beyond Jeff's exquisite arrogance, it makes sense that he can't pinpoint what needs to change with the design. No single alteration would suffice, even if Fisher Robay procured the world's best mall consultant, because there's a different void that isn't being filled. To Jeff, the mall needs to be more than just a mall, because his life needs to be more than just a grind. Ron and Jeff share this commonality.
"Happy Birthday, A Friend" is an episode steeped in work-related drama, keeping all the balls from previous episodes aloft while adding new ones. Douglas threatens to dress up as a chicken to boost morale. Dr. Stevens, the outside observer brought in to observe Ron and Amanda's mundane muffin conversations, is now practically living at the office, even inviting his parents to stop by and see where he works. Throughout the episode, we catch glimpses of a nefarious group sneaking onto the Canton site in the dead of night, seemingly sabotaging the development.
As is often the case with The Chair Company, however, the truth is much less terrifying. When Jeff brings the whole team to the site on a Sunday morning, they run into the trespassers: a group of nerds using the area as a crawler course for their remote-controlled trucks. Enraged, Ron orders them off the property, then loses it and shoves Jeff when he steps in to deescalate. It's an intriguing place to end things with the work storyline; we don't know if Ron will face consequences from Jeff for that aggressive moment, and in general, it's difficult to discern what exactly the "stakes" are for Ron at work right now. I'm genuinely not disappointed in the pacing of this show because it's so enjoyable scene by scene even when the plot doesn't progress traditionally, but I did expect things to have unraveled a bit more by now.
With just two episodes left, the plot's intensity doesn't escalate in a straightforward manner, instead peaking during erratic side quests. The actual Tecca investigation takes a minor backseat early on, as Ron probes a man in his "life of the party" class about the mysterious Maggie S. This new lead yields little more than a man who bolts in fear when confronted by Ron's questions, even though the woman he recognizes as the model for board member Ronda Scott on the Red Ball Market Global website is present. The situation is further complicated by Ron's aggressive approach, shouting "How do you know me?" while snapping photos, which doesn't exactly foster a calm and clear explanation. Most of these students are uncomfortable in social situations, leaving Ron grasping at straws.
Fortunately, the exterminator has plenty of straws to offer. He reveals that the bug found in Ron's home is from Eastern Europe, where both Tecca chair appendices and Thebaine are produced. His team has previously seen this bug in government buildings in Delaware, Ohio. Ron, now operating at a galactic level of conspiracy theory, recognizes the color scheme on the Delaware website from both the RBMG site and the tattoo pattern of the "life of the party" guy, captured blurrily on his phone camera. If not for Seth's birthday party, he would have headed to Delaware with Mike immediately.
The birthday party is a rollercoaster of emotions, from Jeff's unwelcome appearance to Mike's failed attempts to invite himself inside. However, the show still hesitates to delve into the heart of Ron's issues at home. Natalie plays along with his delusions, even encouraging him to visit Delaware City Hall during the fair tomorrow to find proof that the tattooed guy designed the site—possibly because she thinks it will help him come to terms with a seemingly inconsequential story.
Seth seems unwell. We know he has a project planned, and he's enlisting the help of Tara's old ponytailed friend Richard, whose sudden appearance late at night really startles Ron. Yet Seth still sneaks drinks in his bedroom, seemingly bummed about how he and his dad have drifted apart recently. Ron continues to hound him about focusing on basketball, and he won't even do the Pee-Wee Herman dance at his birthday party like in the old days. As a result, Seth chugs some of his dad's bourbon, inevitably vomiting while everyone sings the birthday song. The moment that doesn't feel inevitable is when an unnamed guest makes the bizarre choice to set the birthday cake down on the floor on top of the vomit, as if the mere agony of looking at it is intolerable.
Barb is upset that Ron didn't handle Seth's drinking like he promised, but everything here is still a slow burn, mostly isolated from what Ron is dealing with elsewhere. And even though Ron is good at jumping to conclusions, he's not wrong to feel disturbed by the threatening phone calls he's receiving, where someone threatens to finally "do something" to him. In Ron's mind, this isn't some lark. It's about protecting himself and his family, making sure nobody shows up at their house in the middle of the night.
Indeed, he does venture to City Hall, though barely managing to reach the filing room before being confronted by a man dubbed the "Greaser Cop," who chases him through the building until Ron finds himself in a vast room brimming with neatly arranged Tecca chairs. This could be the long-sought jackpot, the smoking gun that reveals an international drug smuggling operation in full swing. But it's more probable that it will amount to nothing more than a shallow cover-up, or perhaps even a prank from his own friend, undermining even the most substantial threats. (Mike, I could see him engaging in misguided actions to keep the investigation alive, driven by a yearning for companionship.) Ron may finally be compelled to confront the hollowness of this quest and acknowledge that his picture-perfect life is not always as fulfilling as it seems. Yet, there's always the possibility that his complete vindication would be the most shocking twist of all.
