PAUL YOUNG & THREE-FINGERED JUSTICE
Susan: "Paul, even with this adorable new haircut you look like... Are you bisexual or an IV-drug user or have you received a blood transfusion in the last ten years?"
Paul: "That is beyond offensive."
Susan: "Um, check out what show we're on."
Paul: "No, the only risk factors in which I engage are being within a hundred miles of Fairview, caring about other people, and helping the homeless."
Susan: "Yeah, you probably have AIDS. This show is not kind to that sort of business, Mary Alice would give you AIDS in a hot minute for the halfway house thing alone. You should probably leave town altogether, where she can't find you."
Paul: "Susan, no homo, but you are literally my best friend. I wouldn't do that to you and Mike. I know that since neither of you can read, my rent payments for this huge house -- even though I own seven other houses on this block and do not need to be renting anything whatsoever -- keep you afloat."
Susan: "As it turns out, we're ready to move back in. So it's a win/win, except for how you need to get the fuck out of this house before you die in five minutes."
Paul: "Oh ho ho, I see your game now!"
Susan: "Um, what?"
Paul: "You were just making me pot-pies to butter me up!"
Susan: "Um, Paul? I'm your landlord and we're month-to-month, I seriously have just been being nice. Given sufficient notice I can reoccupy any time I want."
Paul: "Not in Fairview! In Fairview everything is backwards and you can come inside my house anytime you want but never evict me!"
Susan: "Anyway, that's not what this is about. You are sitting in your wife's tomb."
Paul: "You are sitting in your wife's tomb!"
Susan: "...What?"
Paul: "I don't know, I'm delirious because you keep poisoning me. So listen, I'm about to shit my entire guts out and then expire on your kitchen floor, so if you don't mind..."
Susan: "Paul, I can't leave just because you asked. I HAVE NO BOUNDARIES!"
Paul: "I rescind your invitation!"
(She goes flying backwards, through the air and out the door.)
Susan: "But Paul! How am I supposed to love you and take care of you from out here?"
Paul: (Slaps her in the face, murmurs something incomprehensible, closes and locks the door, and then falls to the tiles in a heap of mess.)
Mary Alice: "People do good deeds for many reasons, but sometimes good deeds have bad consequences. Correcting a colleague's mistake [Lynette, Tom, Renee] could breed resentment. Opening one's home to a friend can damage that friendship [Bree, Gabrielle, Gabrielle's vibrator]. Trying to bring a spouse closer might push her further away [Everybody all the time/women are bitches]."
Mary Alice, as Susan stares into space in Paul's yard: "That's why there's an old expression about helping people... No good deed goes unpunished."
(That is not even what that expression means, you nasty old thing.)
Mary Alice: "No, I'm serious. Don't ever help people. They will fuck you over. Your good deeds will be tainted by fingerless assassins, and the people you're helping will eventually hurt your little feelings. If you let a friend stay with you, make sure they're not Mexican. If you have a husband that likes to play with dildos, you're a bitch for worrying about it, because that's just harmless fun. If you see someone in pain, assume that they deserve it, because chances are they do. And, most of all, God Bless America. Things are going to be so much better now that an infirm old man getting dialysis six hours a day three times a week was blown up, along with a few dozen other people. What we need are more massacres like that. How many more innocent grandchildren could Gadhafi possibly have, after all? Amen."
Three less than last week. Amen.
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