By Evany
Okay, where were we? Oh, right: Zana was holding Susan hostage and waiting for Mike to come home so that Zana could shoot him. Only it turns out Zana doesn't get to shoot Mike, or Susan, not even Bongo the dog. Instead, Susan tackles Zana, gets a bloody lip, and accidentally shoots off the gun. The bullet hits the bottle of a stray neighborhood alcoholic, and Zana runs off into the night. Susan tries to report Zana to the police, but Mike says that they don't want to file a report because, you see, Zana is maybably his son? The news throws Susan for a loop, but after thinking it through, a fit of unexpected parental responsibility comes over her and she tells Mike that, while she knows he's probably going to be spending a lot of time getting to know his son, and she's happy for him, really, she just can't live with the two of them and expose Julie to crazy, stalky Zana. So the big move-in is OFF! Lynette interviews for a new job and gets called back for a second interview when, no way, house-husband Tom's back goes out! And Lynette is, of course, forced to drag the baby with her to the interview. But wait just one minute: the new boss is actually so impressed by her multitasking wowness (she drops some advertising science on him about how his company needs to redesign its website, something-something about a "site map," while simultaneously changing a diaper) that he hires her on the spot. With Carlos out of the picture, John the Gardener tries to move in, but Gabi wants neither him nor his virgin Mimosa. And then she forges a paternity test to convince Carlos that he is the father-to-be, I guess because she wants to reconcile with him? Because he's rich? Meanwhile Rex is definitely dead, and his mom is in town for the funeral, making cutting comments about her son's unhappy marriage and toting Rex's hideous prep-school tie, which she's positive he would want to wear to his own funeral. But Bree puts her foot down, all, "Rex is not going to be buried in that tie, even if it means I have wrestle it off his waxy corpse in front of god and everyone" (which, incidentally, is exactly what she does). Also: new neighbors Betty and her hot son Matthew have someone chained up in their basement.
Previously on Desperate Housewives: a season finale by the name of "One Wonderful Day" aired. Maybe you saw it?
Okay so...Mike was about to walk into his house and get his brains blown out by Zana. Or maybe it's Bongo who's going to get it, or Susan will manage to shoot herself somehow. But before we get to that, first...Ida Greenberg. Come on, Ida Greenberg? You remember Ida. Ida, the newspaper thief? Ida, who is also the neighborhood drunk? Ida "Sure Like Another Drink" Greenberg? So Ida is sneaking out of a house with something suspiciously bottle-y wrapped in a paper bag. We get some Ida flashbacking, with MAVO explaining how she'd been spotted hiccupping drunk at sewing bees, hiccupping drunk at the DMV, and burping drunk at First Methodist church. (And who's that sitting in the pew behind Ida? Edie? In church! ["Probably sweating like a...well, anyway." -- Wing Chun]) Back in the now, we see Ida walking up the street, unscrewing the top of some sort of whisky something. MAVO: "Ida had tried to quit drinking many times, but she couldn't. Then one night, in a moment of despair, she challenged God," Ida looks up at the heavens, "to quench her neverending thirst. Luckily for Ida, God was listening." Mike's truck drives up the street behind Ida and pulls into his driveway.
And then bam! Mike's walking in the door and Zana's right there with his gun, his shirt buttoned and tucked beyond all sanity. And Bongo's there. And Susan too. Slowly, with lips pursed like a little girl flute player, Zana levels his gun at Mike. "[Zana], listen to me," Mike pleads, but Zana isn't in a listening mood; rather, he's in a gun-cocking mood. At the sound of the bullet clicking into place, Susan springs out of her seat, shouting "Noooooo" as she throws her body, all seven pounds of it, against Zana. Zana falls to the ground, the gun gets knocked to the side, and a spastic struggle ensues, Zana pulling on Susan's leg and Mike pulling on Zana's arm and Bongo bonging like crazy. Somehow, Susan manages to grab the gun. "Not so tough now, are you?" says she. Hey, Susan's lip's bleeding! Susan's moment of triumph lasts all of two seconds before Bongo attacks her leg. That bad, bad Bongo, such a grudge-keeper! Mike lets go of Zana and runs over to try to get Bongo off Susan. Susan trips backward and falls into a chair, causing the gun to, of course, go off, as surely we all knew it would the very second we saw it in Susan's hands. But don't worry, no one's hurt! Nobody except Ida's bottle of precious brown fluids, which Susan has managed to shoot by way of Mike's window. Zana races out the door and up the street, and we see Ida, standing there looking astonished with nothing but the neck of her exploded bottle in her hands. MAVO: "It was at that moment it occurred to Ida [that] God may work in mysterious ways, but he isn't particularly subtle."
Wah-wahhhh. And roll those credits!
We come back from credits and pan in on the famous framed photo of Mary Alice, all covered in cobwebs. Wow, how much time has passed here? They may have gone a little overboard with the webbing; seriously, it looks like Miss Havisham's house in there...though maybe this is some sort of special Halloween decoration? Huh. MAVO: "It's been a year since my death, and a lot has changed on Wisteria Lane." (Everything except the credit sequence, which seems pretty much untouched.) MAVO trills on about how, since she's been gone, children have learned new games, and we see some kids wearing...army helmets and tossing a ball over a white picket fence. I'm not sure I know of this game? And then MAVO reminds us about the new neighbors, and we see Betty and Hotty Applewhite taking down the "for sale" sign from in front of their house. MAVO goes on to remind us of "old houses that had been rebuilt," and we see Edie in front of her almost-rebuilt house with a bunch of construction guys buzzing around. MAVO: "And fresh tragedies had occurred. In one house," and now here is Bree and Rex's "light of Jesus"-illuminated wedding portrait, "a widow was getting ready to tell her friends of her husband's passing." We see Bree, we see the clock. It's five minutes to 9. "But until the time was right, she would wait." Bree's finger taps impatiently on the phone. Not at all surprisingly, it appears that Bree is a "never call before 9" girl. "And life, as it tends to do, would go on."
Cut to Susan, in a hospital bed, her mouth full of gauze. Daughter Julie is perched on the bed to her. Around the gauze, Susan is grunting how awful she looks, and that she needs a hairbrush. "Yeah, um, that' not going to help," Julie says kindly. Mike walks in with a cop, who's there to take Susan's statement. The cop asks if Zach Young was who gave her the bloody lip, and Mike jumps in to say, "No, she did that to herself. She fell, bit her lip, it was an accident." Mike seems a little "over it" here. Hm. Susan starts to tell her story, but her fat lip gauze makes her completely incomprehensible. So she takes out the gauze and does some painful muttering: "That's Zach with an 'H,' he pointed a gun at me," etc. Then Julie makes Susan put the gauze back in, per the doctor's orders. Mike jumps in to say that Zana has a lot of emotional problems, and Susan makes the loony signal and barks, "Ya, cuz he cay zee." Mike defends Zana again: "Still, I don't think he meant to hurt anybody." A flabbergasted Susan spits out her gauze again: "Uh hello, he was waiting there for you to come home so he could kill you!" The cop asks if that indeed is what happened: did the kid take a shot at Mike? "Actually, Susan fired the gun," says Mike. Again, Susan sputters out her bloody mouth gauze (and Susan, paused right now on my screen, looks profoundly disturbing here, like a hunched bloody-mouth apple doll), and states, "That's because I was wrestling it away from Zach so he wouldn't shoot you!" All the yelling starts the blood flowing again, and Julie asks if they can do this later: "She's kind of a mess right now." Mike says he can probably fill the cop in on the rest anyway, and they retire to the hallway. Hey, what about Felicia? Weren't the cops already after Zana for pummeling her with a hockey stick? I don't really think Mike would be able to downplay this one, what with Zana's growing list of violent extracurricular activities. Also, why is no one even visiting Felicia? We're already at the hospital; how hard would it be to pick up some sort of balloon in the lobby and pay her a little neighborly visit? Julie gets up to get Susan some more ice, and overhears Mike telling the cop that "Susan really flew off the handle when she jumped the kid." "So you're saying this is more of a domestic squabble?" Yup, according to Mike, that's all it was. Nothing to see here! As they walk off, Julie looks after them, astonished. And...it's four minutes to 9.
Gabby is getting out of the shower. And, what's this? Rose petals? With furrowed brow, she follows them to find Gardener John, lying in her bed, in his boxers, sipping champagne. Gabby is not amused. She wants to know how he got in. (He has a key.) He offers her a mimosa, she yells that she's PREGNANT, JACKASS. (He made hers with seltzer.) But Gabby is having none of it. She's enraged at GJ because the little stunt he pulled "yesterday" in court (yesterday?) could get Carlos sent away for eight years! GJ tells her that he thought she might be a little miffed about that, but once she calms down, she'll see how awesome it is with just the two of them. With that, she notices his duffel bag: "You brought LUGGAGE?"
Cut to Gabby carrying the bag down the stairs, GJ in tow. He's wheedling some more about how great it'll be now that they can stop sneaking around -- that they can finally have a real relationship: "It's what's best for the three of us." Gabby semi-hilariously thinks he's talking about Carlos: "How exactly does that benefit Carlos?" But no, GJ's talking about his baby. "Your baby!" Gabby yells, "You don't know it's your baby! I don't even know it's your baby!" And frankly, she doesn't want to know. And with that, she throws his duffel bag out onto the porch. He asks if this means she doesn't want him. "Well, up until the point you told my husband we were having an affair, I was quite fond of you. Since then," she shoves him out the door, "NOT a fan." Slam! It's one minute to 9.
Lynette is running around the house frantically. She looks good! She says something bitchy to Tom about what a dumb idea it is to let the kids fingerpaint before breakfast, and he snaps back that it's his job now, and so it's his call. She kind of snaps out of it and agrees. Anyway, why is she rushing around, Tom wonders, since her meeting isn't until 1? ["If they were just in court yesterday, Lynette sure managed to get herself a job interview pretty quickly. Absurdly quickly, you might say." -- Wing Chun] Oh, Lynette has a thousand things to do before then: borrow a decent scarf from Bree (uh oh), buy some lipstick... Just then, one of the Ps comes running over with a painting, and Lynette and her white, white shirt cringe backward: "Nobody touches Mommy. I love you, I love your finger painting, but if you touch me with those messy fingers, I will cut them off." Ah, THERE's the Grimm Lynette we know and are repulsed by. Tom wonders if maybe Lynette is a little nervous? "Who, me? I've been out of work for seven years, I'm a woman of a certain age in a business that values youth above all else. Why should I be nervous?" Tom gives her some pepping about how she's brilliant and she's going to nail this interview, and then he goes over to hug her with his paint-y, egg-y, kid-tainted hands. Uh-uh! Nobody touches Mommy. It's still one minute to 9.
Bree is still sitting, looking at her wedding picture and tapping her finger on the phone with impatience. The last seconds tick down to 9, and she calls Lynettte. First, we hear her apologizing for calling perhaps too early, and then telling Lynette that of course she can borrow that scarf: "I'll press it for you." Then she takes a small breath and says, "Um, I have some...news. Rex died." It is very matter-of-fact and weirdly funny. That Bree! Tee hee!
Susan, holding an old-school ice pack on her head. She's sitting in...the gazebo? Gabby and Lynette are there, and they're talking about what happened to Rex. "So when can we see Bree?" Susan asks. Lynette says that Bree's going to call; she has a million things to do. Um. Why aren't they over at her house right now? Are these people really friends? I don't get it. I don't know, maybe Bree was very forceful about forbidding Lynette from rushing over that very second. But still. So lame. Lynette is lamely trailing off with her explanation of all the things Bree has to do, "planning for the funeral, that sort of thing." Looking over Lynette's shoulder, Gabby says, "she doesn't look that busy to me." And we see Bree, all in black, her hair pulled back in a low bun. She's standing in front of her garbage can, and she's holding a carton of soy milk. The three "friends" walk over and ask Bree what's she's up to. Apparently, she's waiting for Rex's mother to arrive, and also ruing the fact that this soy milk is going to go to waste. Rex was the only one who drank it, and she only bought it on Friday. Do any of them want it? The dead man's soy milk? They silently shake their heads no, and Bree says, "What a waste," and throws it away. The way she says "what a waste" sounds almost like maybe, maybe, she's talking about more than just soy milk? I don't know. The ladies pick up on the fact that maybe she's upset, and encourage her let it out. "No, no I can't afford to fall apart right now," Bree says with a pinched smile. Susan wonders why that is, and Bree looks over her shoulder and says, "You're about to find out." A cab careens around the corner, Mrs. Phyllis Van De Kamp is hanging out the back window in an amazing doglike pose. "Breeeeeee!" she screams. Mommy Phyllis staggers out of the car, bawling. "I can't [pant] believe [pant] it's likesomehideousnightmaremylifeisOVER!" she keens and then collapses against Bree. The three ladies exchange glances, and Bree closes her eyes in resignation. She pats Rex's mother with slow, irritated pats. I don't know: I think this woman's reaction is kind of acceptable? Her son died! Why is everyone so under-affected?
Gabby is visiting Carlos in prison. Actually, Rex's tie would look pretty good with Carlos's jumpsuit. Carlos is giving Gabby the silent treatment. After rolling with the silence for as long as she can stand, Gabby says, "Okay, yes, so I had a little affair." She's not proud of it, but it's not the worst thing in the world -- nobody died or anything, etc. etc. ["One could argue that his mother kind of did, indirectly." -- Wing Chun] And yet still Carlos no talky. Gabby chides him for being a martyr, and then tries to blame her cheating on his being gone on business so much, etc. etc. Gabby: "Technically, you cheated, too -- it's just your mistress was your work." Carlos gets up and turns to go, and Gabby stretches her arms out to him across the table and admits that maybe equating his work to a mistress was a stretch. But Carlos remains oh so quiet, shhh, shhh. Gabby wheedles some more about the glory of starting over, about the looming baby that Carlos always wanted, and then she stands up and pounds her fist on the table and yells, "I said I was sorry and I love you, what more do you want?" Carlos turns and quietly says, "I want a paternity test." And then he walks out, leaving Gabby looking just a little thrown.
Here come a black-clad Bree and Danielle, walking up to new neighbor Betty's house with a basket of welcome goodies. Betty and her pretty son Matthew are where they always are: out on the front porch. Betty is sweeping and Matthew is cleaning the windows. Bree: "I would have been over sooner to introduce myself, but I'm afraid there's been a death in the family." Danielle pipes up with "my dad." Pretty, pretty Matthew offers his condolences, saying he knows what they're going through because he lost his dad, too. Danielle thanks him sweetly and, perhaps, flirtatiously? She seems almost pathologically un-sad here, considering that her dad just died. And all. Is she perhaps so taken with the vision that is Matthew that her sorrow is momentarily assuaged? Bree confesses that her visit has an ulterior motive: the church's organist is on vacation, and Edie mentioned that Betty used to be a concert pianist? Betty graciously says she'd be honored to play for Bree, and they make a plan to go over some potential selections later. Bree thanks her for taking such a huge weight off of shoulders, and then hands over her basket full of freshly baked cookies. If it were anyone else, I'd say organizing cookies in the middle of fresh mourning would be slightly freaky, but that's our Bree! Betty thanks her for the sweetness of the gesture, then steps in closer and squeezes Bree's hands. "Bree, we widows have to stick together," she says, and the twinkling of dramatic music starts to rise. Bree gives a small thank you and, looking very much like she's about to lose it, she walks off with Danielle. Betty comes up behind Matthew and says, "Pretending you're father's dead? Don't you think that's a little morbid?" Matthew: "I just thought I could help our cover story, okay? You know, just...win them over." Betty gives him a hug, "Sweetie," she says, and then rubs his pectorals, "I know you meant well." She gives him a few pats. "But in the future, you leave the cleverness to me." And then she walks into the house. Hmmm. I'm not entirely sure, but did Betty just get to second base with her son?
Susan is on her lawn, hammering in a sign for Dorset Security. Julie comes out and they chitchat awhile about how there's no actual security system -- just the sign, which Mike so thoughtfully gave her to scare away Zana and make Susan feel safe. Susan: "That guy is so supportive. You know he's out right now, in a ride-along with the police, searching for Zach?" Julie looks doubtful. "Yeah," Susan gushes on, "he's determined to see that guy behind bars." Susan blathers on some more about how Julie needs to talk up the new security system tomorrow at school. Meanwhile, Julie tries to get one word in edgewise. It takes three tries, but finally she gets Susan to stop talking. Julie: "Yesterday, I overheard Mike tell that cop that he didn't want to press charges against Zach. He made the whole thing sound like it was your fault." Susan: "MY fault!" She seems so surprised. Poor Susan. At least her lip is miraculously healed. You know, the bloody lip that had her wailing in the hospital just yesterday?
Gabby is at the paternity determination center. She's trying to sweet talk a "goth" receptionist (piercings, streaked hair, black lipstick, lab coat) into helping her forge a paternity result. Gabby: "I am just trying to reassure my husband of what I know is true in my heart. So if you could just slip me somebody else's test results, I can make my own." And then she goes on to add, in her patented cutesy conspiratorial voice, "I got Photoshop for Christmas." Goth, looking less than impressed with The Gabby Show, goes back to reading her book. Gabby downshifts into her all-favorite wheedling mode, "Come on, you look like a fun-loving girl. I am sure you've been in a couple hairy situations of your own." Goth gestures for Gabby to lean in. "Just because I choose to express myself," Goth says, pointing to her visage, "doesn't mean I condone adultery. Sorry." Too bad, Gabby. And usually the goth people are so fun-loving!
Gabby is defeated. But not for long! For there, sitting just feet away, is a woman looking at a piece of paper and crying. Gabby misinterprets this as a sign of a sister in a similar boat to her own. The woman says, "I just found out the clinic screwed up and gave me an egg that belonged to some lesbian. It was supposed to be implanted in her lover, and now my husband is freaking out because he thinks our baby's going to be GAY!" That's kind of nice; usually homophobes aren't progressive enough to think that gay is hereditary. "Okay," Gabby admits, "we're in slightly different situations." But still Gabby thinks they should grab a cup of coffee together, talk it out: "Us girls have to stick together, we can't let a little piece of paper ruin our life." And she plucks the paper out of the woman's hands. Smooth, very smooth. Though I think Betty said it better, grammatically speaking, with her "we widows have to stick together" versus Gabby's "us girls." But what does Gabby care about grammar? She has her precious form in her hot little hands. Start heating up that...healing tool, Gabs. (Please Hammer, don't hurt me, I'm just desperately trying to make some Photoshop fun here.) Gabby folds the paper in half and tucks it away.
And then, in another one of this show's favorite meaningless coincidental crossovers, we cut over to the Mother of all Rex's problems, who is taking some papers out of her purse. See that? Purses, papers? This town is so eerily connected. Mommy Phyllis and Bree are sitting with the minister, doing some eulogy brainstorming. Mommy Phyllis confesses that she stayed up all night writing up fifteen pages' worth of amusing anecdotes about Rex. The minister looks suitably dismayed as Mommy Phyllis tries to hand him her novella, which Bree intercepts neatly. "Phyllis, these are all things that happened to Rex before he went to college," says Bree. Mommy Phyllis doesn't see the problem. Bree: "Well, don't you think it would be nice if Reverend devoted part of his eulogy to his life after his marriage?" Mommy Phyllis: "Oh, well, yes, of course, the reverend will mention that part of his life." And they're off! Bree: "He's going to do more than mention it. That's the part he'll focus on. In fact, I think three anecdotes that focus on Rex's childhood is more than enough." Bree hands exactly three sheets over to the minister. Mommy Phyllis: "I just thought if we were going to focus on a time in Rex's life, we might as well focus on the happiest time." Bree slams down her tea cup and glares at Phyllis, who is looking very sly -- very cat-with-cream-y. The minister desperately tries to change the subject, but Bree is having none of it: "Reverend. If you don't call her on that incredibly insensitive comment, I'm going to lose it." The minister tries to excuse Mommy Phyllis -- clearly, she didn't mean it the way it sounded? Mommy Phyllis: "I knew exactly what I was saying." Rev: "Ladies..." Bree: "The happiest time in Rex's life was not his childhood. He loved being a husband, and he loved being a father." Mommy Phyllis, smugly: "He may have loved being a father, but your marriage...was...a disaster." They take potshots at each other until finally Bree throws her trump card: "You are no longer invited to the funeral!" Both the minister and the Mommy Phyllis are flabbergasted. Surely she's not serious? Bree: "Oh yes I am. I am going to hire security. And those security men are going to have sticks, and if you so much as set foot into that sanctuary, they are going to be instructed to beat you with those sticks." The minister tries to tell Bree that this is her grief talking, but Bree shuts him down: "Reverend if you don't back me up on this, so help me I will pull the funeral out of your church. I am not kidding, I will go nondenominational so fast it will make your head spin." And with that, she gives a tight little smile and stalks out of the room. Mommy Phyllis looks 110% miffed, and the minister takes an embarrassed little sip of his tea. In summary: Rex may have liked the looks of big-breasted women, but he pretty much married his mother.
And from the minister sipping his tea, we cut to Edie sipping her coffee. She's at her house, which is still abuzz with construction. Susan walks up, and Edie eagerly tells her she heard what happened with Zana. Susan isn't much in the mood for chatting (what with just discovering that her boyfriend has been undermining her to the police), and she rather brusquely asks Edie where Mike is. But Edie isn't ready to let it drop. "Jeez," Edie says, "you must have been terrified. I mean, he put poor Felicia in the hospital." See? Edie remembers Felicia. Edie, of all the characters on Wisteria Lane, actually thinks about someone else beside herself. Edie, excitedly: "Did he pistol-whip you?" Susan says no and tries to dodge past Edie, but Edie blocks her: "Come on, you can tell me. Did he slap you around?" Nooo. "Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled you're okay, it's just that when someone holds someone else hostage, they usually rough them up a little?" But again, no. "Oh," Edie says with a frown, but then, one-last-hopefully: "Not even a little kicking?" Mike comes out of Edie's house, carrying some kind of pipe thing, and Susan marches over and comes right out with it: "So there's a rumor going around that you don't want to press charges against Zach. Is that true?" Mike reluctantly confirms that it is. Susan: "Wow, I find that...confusing." Mike says that if they make a big deal out of things, Zana could go to prison. Susan doesn't see how that's a problem, considering that he held a gun to Susan's face. Mike: "I've been to prison. He couldn't handle it." Again, Susan doesn't really care. But Mike thinks that, deep down, Zana is a good kid. In a final effort to sway Mike over to the Zana-haters' side, Susan tries to show off Zana's crazy by telling Mike that the reason Zana wanted to kill Mike was because he thought Mike had kidnapped and then killed CreePaul. Mike: "I didn't kill Paul Young." Susan didn't actually think he did, but why, she wonders, did Zana? Mike sighs and spells it out for her -- how CreePaul and Mary Alice had taken in Deirdre's baby; how when Deirdre returned to take the baby back, they murdered her; and how CreePaul and Mary Alice raised the baby as their own. Susan looks suitably shocked and is busy "ohmygod"ing when Edie comes out with Mike's phone. It's the police: Zana's dead, and they want Mike to come ID the body.
Mike and Susan enter the morgue, and the cop tells them he didn't know who else to call, since CreePaul is missing, thereby somewhat answering the question I had just yelled at the television: "Why the hell did they call Mike?" The cop pulls back the sheet to reveal a kid with blond, product-crazy hair -- the hair of a teenager who people maybe talked to at school, i.e. the hair of someone who is immediately recognizable as not Zana. What? Just how vague was the description the police had of Zana? Was that one of Mike's subterfuge tactics, giving the police the wrong details? Or maybe they thought Zana had given himself an "on the lam" makeover? Not clear! The cop asks Susan if she's sure this blond boy is, in fact, not Zana. "He had a gun in my face for six hours, I know what he looks like." And even though it's true, she did spend a rough day held hostage by crazy Zana, the way she says it makes it sound like the exaggeration of some drama-starved exaggerator. No wonder Mike had such an easy time convincing the cops that Susan was making the whole thing up. Mike, looking shaky, walks over to sit on a desk, and Susan looks at him at first pensively, and then with a dawning realization. The background music asserts itself meaningfully, and she walks over to sit to Mike. Softly, she asks him, "Zach is your son, isn't he?" Mike says yes, he's pretty sure Zana is his son. It appears as though Deirdre got pregnant before Mike went to jail, and told him she'd had an abortion, but apparently she LIED. (So there goes the hope that Marc Cherry would make even the slightest effort to fix the problem of Mike's prison sentence starting way earlier than Zana's date of conception...what, couldn't they drum up a conjugal visit? A handy supply of iced sperm?) Mike: "When I took Paul out to the desert, I was so angry, I wanted to hurt him, the way they hurt Deirdre. But when he told me that he and Mary Alice had taken care of Deidre's baby...my baby, that rage just went away. Kept me from doing something really stupid." Susan looks a little like she's going to throw up; maybe she finally noticed that they're having this entire conversation in the same room as a dead boy? She jumps up and rushes out, saying she's going to take a cab home, and Mike just keeps sitting there, in the morgue, looking introspective. Meanwhile: is nobody at all curious about yet another dead body showing up in town? Who is this dead kid with the artfully positioned hair? What the hell is going on?
Bree is scrubbing down the kitchen when in come Andrew and Danielle. Apparently, Mommy Phyllis is leaving, and Andrew wants Bree to go talk to her. Bree, frantically cleaning, says she's not at all interested in talking to Mommy Phyllis, in light of the horrible things the woman said to her. Andrew: "Look, I'm sure she was a real bitch, okay? But she's family. That makes her our bitch. Let her say goodbye to Dad." Bree -- looking insane, by the way, and not just because she's wearing all black topped with a flowery apron and navy blue rubber gloves -- says, "She went out of her way to be cruel to me. I don't want her at the funeral." Spritz, spritz, spritz goes Bree with the cleaning fluid. (Wait a second, what's that I spy in the background? Yes, Bree and I have the same coffee maker! So...I've got that going for me.) And now suddenly Danielle bursts into the conversation, her face all crumpled, her mouth a gaping wail hole. "Mom, if you don't let Grandma come, I will never forgive you!" she shrieks. Andrew looks at his sister with total disgust: "Did I ask for your help?" Bree looks as though she's been slapped, and Andrew reminds her that Rex would have wanted his mother there. Wow, who would have thought that it would be Andrew who'd be the first to think about what Rex would have wanted?
Bree resignedly takes off her gloves and walks into the front room, where Mommy Phyllis has piled her eight million matching brocade bags. In a voice shaking with emotion, Bree says, "It's true, Rex and I did not have the perfect marriage. But for eighteen years, I tried my very best, and for that I'm entitled to your respect." Mommy Phyllis readily agrees. Then why, Bree wonders, did she say such bitchy things? "I guess I thought it would be easier to be angry with you," Mommy Phyllis confesses, "than to be angry at Rex." Mommy Phyllis's lips start to tremble: "What was he thinking, leaving me?" she asks the fates. Sad! Bree melts and says, "I do want you to come to the funeral." Mommy Phyllis's face cracks with relief, and she sighs and admits how much it means to her, being allowed to go. Mommy Phyllis walks toward the stairs, then she turns and says, "Someone should get my luggage." Bree looks at the mountain of bags and wonders if, perhaps, she just got duped somehow, some way.
Lynette is racing around, about to leave the house for her second interview, when she discovers Tom lying on the floor. He threw out his back, it appears, holding one of the Ps upside-down. Lynette quickly grabs his feet and shoves them toward his chest, which creates a small crunching sound. Lynette: "How's that, better?" Through clenched teeth, Tom reveals that it is actually not better: "Can you push the interview? 'Cause I don't think I can take care of Penny like this." Lynette: "Don't do this to me, I don't have time to make a phone call, and I promised that woman that I would not let the kids interfere with this job." Tom says, "Well that was a stupid promise," and earns himself another painful leg pump. Lynette: "Remember that time when you were away in Tucson and I had a 104 fever but I still managed to take the kids trick-or-treating?" You know, Lynette has a point. Tom is clearly in pain, but he's still able to talk. Surely he could call around and get one of the neighbors to help out for a few hours? I mean, if his back had gone out after Lynette had already left, what would he have done? He would have figured something out, right? Lynette drops his legs, and Tom grunts painfully. "Tom, being a mom is like being an ER doctor: there are NO DAYS OFF! So get up!" Lynette does some motivational clapping: "Get up!" Tom strains and twists. "Jeez," Lynette says, "are you crying?" "Just a little," says Tom in a small, sad voice. Lynette stands there looking frantic, and then does an "oh for god's sake" and grabs Penny. And there she goes! She's bringing baby to the interview! "Give 'em hell, honey!" Tom yells after her. You suck, Tom.
Lynette rolls into the wacky, creative, and fun offices of the purple and orange. Stu the receptionist is there, his headset strapped into place as he goes in to take a huge bite of sandwich. He tells her to go right on in, they're just about ready for her. Lynette: "Listen, Stu, you look like a bright, responsible young man, I bet you just love kids. Am I right?" Stu looks rightfully panicked.
Cut to Lynette, who's standing in big boss Ed's office, looking over some of his sports paraphernalia. Ed walks in with Tits, who is wearing a similarly revealing top today, this time in pink. Ed immediately reveals himself to be a busy man. He's going to have to make this quick, because he has to take off in five minutes to go catch a plane. He has Celtics tickets! Where are we? If he has to fly to get to Boston then...that still tells me nothing. Where oh where is this town? As Ed talks, he crumples pieces of paper and tosses them into his trashcan across the room, which has a worn basketball net suspended above it à la Bosom Buddies. Ed tells her that he thinks her résumé looks great, and they do some shop-talking. Then he asks her if she's had a lot of copy work experience. So Lynette is a copywriter! Lynette agrees that she has, but when she moved over to "Cenn and Simmons," she got to do "a broader range of campaigns, including TV, radio, billboards." The whole time Lynette is talking here, she's looking through the chic glass wall of the office at Penny, who is lying on Stu's desk and crying. Stu is flirting with someone and totally ignoring her. This sight gives Lynette's delivery a...weird...sort of...Forest Gump styling.
Finally, she can stand it no longer. "Could you excuse me for a moment?" she says, and then she does that funny run that rushed women in heels and a pencil skirt do -- part bunny hop, part tip-toe shuffle. We see and faintly hear Lynette calling Stu an "idiot, and absolute idiot," and then Lynette is back in the interview, crying baby in her arms. Lynette giddily introduces them to Penny, saying "she gives me my best ideas." Tits: "You brought your baby to the interview." Lynette: "Don't worry, it won't be an ongoing thing." Tits: "You bet it won't." But just as Tits inhales to deliver what's almost sure to be a "get out," Ed says, "It's fine. Any chance we can get the little lady to be quiet?" Lynette says she just needs a few minutes to go change her diaper. Ed doesn't really have time for that, and he gets up to go. Lynette: "All right, then watch me multitask." She proceeds to change Penny right there on the couch while rolling out her spiel, about how this is a really good shop, but if they want to take things to the level, they need awards -- "do some PSA, some pro bono work, whatever it takes" -- and they also need a better website, because the current one is "hard to navigate, it has no site map." Call me old-fashioned, but if a site is well-designed, it shouldn't need a site map. Also? Just hearing Lynette say "site map" makes me cringe, like when my mom once said to me "you go girl!" Anyway, surprise, Ed is totally impressed by Lynette's amazing ability to do the dazzle-dance while simultaneously wiping urine off of some third-party nethers (which, incidentally, is yet another aspect of life in advertising...Lynette couldn't have chosen a more apt audition than this!). "You're in," says Ed. "Seriously?" Lynette asks. Tits looks equally as amazed. "Take the office across the hall," says Ed as he twirls out of the room. "I gotta run." Ed actually has a nice kind of Kevin Spacey thing going on here that very much captures the particular essence of "confidence coupled with ignorance" that typifies a certain type of upper management. Lynette does a "well allll right!" and tosses the dirty diaper toward the trashcan, only she misses the hoop, and the diaper just sticks to the window/wall and slowly starts to slide downward as an aghast Tits looks on. "Okay, obviously I'm going to clean that up," says the newly employed Lynette.
Gabby's back at prison, showing off her amazing Photoshopping prowess to Carlos. Wait, for this to be even remotely credible, shouldn't Carlos have given blood or something? At least that's how it went down onVeronica Mars. Beyond all believability, Carlos seems to take the paternity test, and his claim to father-ship, at face value. Yet still, it isn't enough for him. "What do you want," Gabby asks exasperatedly, "a Father's Day card?" Carlos, it appears, is still angry that she did the one thing he asked her not to do, i.e. have hot and thorough sex many, many times with an underage gardener. "And you knew the one thing I didn't want was a child," Gabby counters, "and you still tricked me into getting pregnant." Carlos: "That's not the same thing." Gabby: "Damn straight -- what you did was worse." Gabby and Carlos glare at each other fiercely for a few seconds, and then Carlos kind of crumples. "We're not very nice people, are we?" he says. Right ON! Hurray, hip-hip! That should be the town's new motto, on the Welcome sign and on every bumper sticker on every car in town. That should be the title of this show! Gabby agrees that they're not very nice people. Breakthrough! "Ohhh," Carlos sighs with much fatigue, "when we got married, I thought we were going to be so happy." Gabby agrees again. She adds, "Look on the bright side: at least we're still rich." Carlos says, "Thank god for that." Exactly.
Mike comes out to get the paper and finds Susan sitting on his porch. She's had some time to think since their talk at the morgue, and it occurs to her that she was very rude, running off like that, and that she was so selfishly wrapped up in her own freak-out that she didn't even pause to congratulate Mike on his new status as Father. Tearfully, she presses on, saying that, naturally Mike's going to be wanting to have a relationship with Zana (you know, once they actually find Zana and he gets over that whole wanting-to-kill-Mike thing). "And out of all the mixed-up teenagers in the world, Zach is just the one kid that I can't be around. I can't have Julie around him. So, what I'm trying to say --" At this point she gets too choked up to continue, so Mike finishes for her: "We can't move in together." "But I am so happy for you, really," Susan says, "You have a child, and that is good for you." Mike asks, so forlornly, if there isn't any way... But Susan puts her foot down, tells him she's sorry, and that she'll, um, see him around. And then she runs off and...OH my god. I don't know what the hell-o is going on here, maybe it's something about the way they filmed her, the angle? But Teri Hatcher looks so incredibly, grotesquely skinny as she trots up Mike's path that it gave me a chill. Really. I rewound and played, rewound and played this last bit like seven times, with my mouth just AJAR. My boyfriend and I spent five whole minutes trying to put it into words, how unsettling she looks. "Skeletal" is the word for it, but so much so that it actually affects the way she moves. Remember the skeletons fighting and grinning and looking so creepy in Jason and the Argonauts? Or The Pirates of the Caribbean (the movie)? Just like that! No wait, wait! Better still: at the end of Terminator, when all of Arnold's flesh has been worn off, and he's just a metal killing machine with red eyes? That is how Teri looks at the end of this scene! It is truly that terrifying. Oh Teri: I don't want to make light of this situation with your insane eating disorder, but seriously, I have some cans of soup in my cupboard, and also some tasty nuts. Please post your address at the end of the episode so I know where to send it. I am not kidding. Love, Evany. And to Susan: I think it's great that you are finally putting your daughter first and everything, but maybe the fact that Mike was fixing to execute CreePaul in the desert was also a dealbreaker. Maybe even a touch more so? Just, you know, "priorities." Yours until Ivory soap sinks! Evany.
At Rex's funeral. Mike's there; across the aisle sit Susan and Julie. Susan shoots Mike a forlorn glance, and Julie pats her arm. By the way, ladies? This is a funeral. For someone else? Someone that you supposedly cared about. Maybe the whole reversal of the move-in plans (which were premature to begin with) isn't even remotely the point here? You know, just...maybe. Also, Susan? I'm sorry to keep picking on you, but what is going on with your parrot-yellow scarf? Yes, Edie is wearing an insane hat spun from the silken thread of Shelob, but that's just what she likes to do at funerals. It doesn't give you permission to turn your black mourning outfit all whimsical. Susan! SUSAN! Anyway, Mommy Phyllis walks to the casket and looks down lovingly at Rex. And, my word, he looks nuts! Very rouged, very waxy -- actually not at all unlike how he looks in his wedding portrait. Danielle files past, and then Andrew, both of the kids giving very similar inhaled sighs of sadness and then quickly scooting on. And then here comes Bree. As she approaches Rex, her face starts to wobble, and she looks just about ready to cut loose with what I'm thinking is going to be an amazing torrent of sadness when she spots it: Rex's prep-school tie! Oh Mommy Phyllis. Bree looks positively stricken, and a little haggard, too, truth be told. Bree shoots eye daggers over at Mommy Phyllis, who has the decency to look a little shamefaced. Bree pulls herself together, straightens her coat (the top of a very sexy and semi-vintage-y black suit number), and returns to her seat. The service begins. Bree hisses, "What is he wearing?" at Mommy, who pretends not to know what Bree's talking about. "I left here an hour ago, and he was wearing Ralph Lauren." Mommy Phyllis, whispering: "But it's what Rex would have wanted. He loved that prep school." Bitch!
The minister continues with the eulogy. We see some cross-fades of everyone enjoying the service, some shots of a few people smiling ruefully over some piquant tale from Rex's youth. But Bree can't tear her eyes off that tie. The minister finishes up, and Betty starts up with the organ, and the funeral people go to close the casket. And...up pops Bree! "Wait!" she yells, and the church goes very quiet. "Do not close that coffin." Bree turns and walks up the aisle, her head swiveling and searching until it lights on Tom. "Give me your tie," she says. Tom looks around like, what? Me? "Give. Me. Your tie," Bree hisses. Lynette: "Give it to her!" Tom forks it over, and Bree goes up to the body, pulls off the offensive tie, lifts Rex into a sitting position, and puts Tom's tie on him. There are lots of awesome reaction shots here: Tom and Lynette exchanging verrrrry sloooww glances, Mommy Phyllis cupping a shocked hand over her mouth, Edie looking pretty much unfazed. Bree slides the tie into place and smiles and exhales, her body visibly relaxed. She smiles a sweet and intimate smile, and as somewhere a piano plays a few mournful chords, she tells her husband, "You look...magnificent." And now there is water on my cheeks, salty water, like from the ocean. The minister motions for Betty to start back up with the organ playing, and Bree marches with almost military precision, up the aisle, out of the church, and into the bright white light of outdoors.You really have to hand it to our Bree. For the girl who couldn't face the idea of publicly embarrassing herself at the club, she's come a long way...really come out of that shell. And now she just does not give a damn!
Cut to our four ladies walking up the Lane. Susan, in an awkward piece of expository dialogue, says, "So it looks like Mary Alice killed Zach's birth mother in order to keep her from taking Zach away." Lynette: "Oh my god. I mean, I knew Mary Alice had killed herself over something big, but wow...I mean, can you imagine living with that guilt." Gabby: "Isn't it bizarre that Paul and Mary Alice lived with this secret all these years and we didn't even know about it?" Susan: "No, not really. I mean, what do we actually know about our neighbors? We can tell if they keep their lawns nice or they take their trash cans in. But when they do those things, we stop asking questions, because people are good neighbors." Bree: "We don't really care what happens behind closed doors." MAVO: "It had been one year since my suicide." Lynette: "Makes you wonder, doesn't it." MAVO: "And a lot had changed on Wisteria Lane. There were new flowers, new houses, and new neighbors -- the kind anyone would want living door." Okay. That was by far the most ham-fisted piece of storytelling ever. Not just on this show, just...ever. Can't we give Bree just one second of warmth and human-esque kindness before we launch in with the "what do we really know about our neighbors" pontification? Also, isn't this kind of "pointing out the obvious" stuff MAVO's primary domain? What's the point of having a dead omniscient narrator if you're just going to have the characters themselves point out the meaning behind each and every one of the show's few subtleties? Characters who, by the way, are still wearing their funeral garb and who should be quietly, meditatively contemplating the VERY SAD DEMISE OF THEIR FRIEND AND/OR LOVER REX? Why must you hurt me this way, Cherry?
Meanwhile, over at the Applewhites, there is some serious "behind closed doors" stuff going on. Betty is playing a hymn on the piano; the funeral just put her in the mood for it. Matthew stops in to listen; he's carrying a food tray. "Did you remember the butter?" she asks him sharply. Matthew reminds her that he makes up the tray every night. "Of course you do! I'm sorry," says Betty in a peculiar, biting sing-song. Still playing, Betty notices that there's a rose in a vase on the tray. Still in the "sarcastic storyteller" voice, she says, "Oh look! You added a flower!" Matthew says, semi-defensively, that he just thought it might be nice. "How did I get so lucky to have a child like you? You really do try to think of others. That flower, it's a small act of kindness, and yet you did it anyway. It says a lot about how you were raised." Matthew: "Well, I guess you did your job." Hold on. What is going on here? There are some serious creepy undertones to this whole conversation. It's all very bad touchy-touchy. Betty comes over to Matthew and says, "I'll take the tray, you take the gun." Who? What?
Together, Betty and Matthew go down to the basement and unlock an elaborately rusted door. (How lucky for Betty and toothsome Matthew that the house they bought over the internet or whatever came with its own rust-stained dungeon!) Betty goes into a small room and places the tray on a table as Matthew watches on from the door. Betty retreats to the door, then takes one last look at the food tray. "It really is a lovely gesture," she says, and she and Matthew leave. The door swings shut, and...a SHACKLED HAND reaches out for the glass of juice and/or urine.
What the...? Where is that plodding over-explainer MAVO when you need her?
Sunday: Karl sleeps with Edie!