By Evany
Robbers come rolling into the Scavoria after hours and lock Tootie and Lynette inside the forty-three-degree walk-in for the night. Purely for medicinal reasons, Lynette and Tootie fall to the floor for a night-long cuddlethon (though no actual It-Doing is done). Worried, Tom comes looking for Lynette and sets them free before any actual Gilbert McCluskeying can occur. Later, when reviewing the security tapes with the police, Tom gets an eyeful of Tootie and Lynette's romantic pre-robbery meal. Tom confronts Tootie about his obvious interest in Lynette and asks him to resign. Instead, Tootie confronts Lynette about their obvious attraction for each other, and she tearfully gives him the boot, recognizing that their heretofore semi-harmless flirting can't go on now that things have come to a head. Tom is thrilled, but Lynette is sad to see Tootie go -- like, contorted-face-crying-in-the-bathtub sad.
Susan goes into the mountains looking for Mike, but she's so ill-prepared that the ranger office assigns her a guide, whom Susan immediately starts to bore with her Mike then Ian then Mike then Ian then Mike story. When the distraction-driven guide finally snaps and tells Susan everything we've all been wanting to yell at her for the last three years -- namely that she's a maddening drama machine -- Susan proves the guide 100% right by petulantly setting off on her own and getting profoundly, irritatingly, self-indulgently lost. Sadly, no bears come a-mauling; rather, Mike overhears the rangers talking about the "lost klutzy woman" and tracks down Susan himself, and kissing ensues.
The election results are in, and Maybe Mayor is now officially the Mayor of Fairview. Gabby celebrates by giving a parking meter cop the royal treatment, ripping up her ticket in his face and grossly flaunting her alleged untouchability as the new First Lady of Fairview. Gabby and the meter man scuffle (earning Gabby a bruised wrist and Meter Man a swift kick to the shin) and Gabby gets carted off in the paddy wagon. The Mayor bails her out, but he later gives her a truly unpleasant dressing-down, and she is coldly commanded to stop to the embarrassing behavior. And then he sends a couple thugs to beat up the meter cop. Is this a Mayored to the Mob type of situation? Or is he just Mayor McBusive? Either way, things look grim for the Gabster. Travers's stay with Edie is over now that his dad's back in country, and Carlos is suddenly less eager to get with Edie. Unwilling to simply accept Carlos's general lack of interest and move on, Edie instead threatens to sue Travers's dad for partial custody just so she can use her son as bait in her Carlos trap. Carlos, who's obviously a way better parent than Edie will ever be, is concerned about what all the shuttling back and forth between two parents will do to Travers, so he talks Edie into dropping the lawsuit by promising to continue dating her -- ah, sweet, sweet, manipulove!
Previously on Desperate Housewives: hey, it turns out there's this place on the internet where you can actually read all about everything that's happened on the show so far, blow by excruciating blow? I know!
And for tonight's episode, MAVO cheerfully introduces the intro-montage theme, and this week, it's all about the victims: the old ladies who get themselves mugged, the businessmen who get carjacked, and the elderly hardware shopkeepers who get stabbed in the stomach and left to bleed and bleed out right there on the floor; what the hell? For a quiet suburban town, there sure is a lot of psychotically violent crime going down -- the Fairview Board Of Tourism is going to be doing some serious damage control after tonight's episode. (Introducing the city's new tourism campaign: "Welcome to Fairview! Sure, there are lots of bodies here...hard bodies! And MILFs! It's a city full of tan, fantastically aerobicized MILFs! And not the stabbing, shooting, pushing-you-down-the-stairs kind of MILF, either. Only the sexy kind, we promise. Seriously, no dead bodies. So book those tickets to Fairview today! Please! Hello?") The mayhem montage finishes with a outside-looking-in shot of the Scavoria, where currently there are two menacing-type figures looming out front, and two dirty sinners romancing the stone right inside.
Lynette and Tootie are at the table, trying out the latest tasty Tootie creation, orecchiette (a.k.a. "little ears" pasta) with pancetta (a.k.a., "bacon"). Lynette is looking very pretty in a little dress and with her face all did up right. Also, her hair is down, which as we all know symbolizes Lynette's readiness to rut. Tootie pours her a deep, deep glass of wine, but he sticks to Diet Coke in a nice nod to his "in recovery" addiction status. Lynette sighs a happy sigh and gushes about how "nice" everything is: "The food," she says, her eyes bulging into cartoon hearts, "the wine...you." Oh boy, cringe ahoy. Lynette goes on and on about how these delectable dinners with Tootie at the end of the night are the only thing that keeps her going, like the proverbial carrot on a stick -- and by "carrot" I of course mean "phallus." From what I can see through my wince-squinted eyes, Tootie looks pleased by Lynette's tentative forays into extramarital territories, and he pongs back some sexy eyes in her direction. And I'm just about ready to take a bite out of the couch (to stifle the "run away, run away!" screams) when those two nefarious villains -- previously spotted casing the (pizza) joint -- let themselves in through the weirdly unlocked front door and start waving guns. And thank god for homicidal criminals, because things were about to get really ugly in there.
And it's out of the shamefully flirtatious frying pan and into the walk-in refrigerator for Lynette and Tootie. Also the smart robbers took away their cell phones, so there's not a hope of rescue. Right, the trusty "locked inside a freezer" trope, as seen on The Brady Bunch, MacGyver, and one of my all-time favorite movies, The Long Kiss Goodnight. Sadly, unlike in TLKG, there's no gas-pissing dolly to help explode Lynette and Tootie out of this pickle. Luckily, they've got their inappropriate love to keep them warm. Or maybe the fiery flames of hell will do the trick? So okay, Tootie and Lynette are "forced" to spend the whole night curled up together on the floor, arms entwined in full-on hot-spoon action. And not because they're enjoying themselves or anything, no. They're just trying to "keep warm"! I mean, it's a life or death situation, right? Though really, they're well outside of freezing range, what with the temperature set (as Lynette reports) to "42 degrees" -- 42 Degrees being the name of one of my all-time favorite restaurants in San Francisco (sadly now closed), which used to serve the most magically delicious homemade pasta with fresh corn and bacon (a.k.a., "pancetta"). Coincidence? Almost surely. But I have to find some way to distract myself as I suffer through this contrived bad-idea-a-thon. Ah! If only I were off somewhere eating that spectacular pasta, instead of being stuck here, watching this train come off its rails!
The heavily pain-medicated Tom doesn't actually become conscious to Lynette's MIA status until early the morning. After limping around the empty house (no kids, even?), he screeches down to the Scavoria and, frantic with panic, starts yelling for Lynette. Fortunately, his shrieking provides enough of a pre-warning that Lynette and Tootie are able to disentangle themselves from their not-strictly-necessary, not-strictly-platonic hard-core cuddle sesh, which is a relief -- I'm not sure my stomach could have faced the sight of Tom busting in on them dry-humping on a heap of sex-wilted arugula. Lynette, upon hearing Tom's voice, leaps to her feet and starts banging on the door. Tom unlocks the fridge, and out pours a rattled, babbling Lynette, who's suddenly this bundle of motion and chatter and bustle -- the over-activity of someone who's feeling plenty guilty and is desperate to divert attention away from the source of said guilt. Unfortunately, the man behind her guilt is hard to miss, what with him standing right there, looking sheepish. Tom eyes him warily.
Hey, I know Lynette's peccadilloes are fascinating and all, but has anyone called an ambulance for that man hemorrhaging on the floor of that hardware store? Because really this is the oldest story in the book, and that storyline actually has a dying man in it.
Downtown Fairview. With tonight being the night that they announce the winner of the Fairview mayoral race -- even though no one that we know does any voting today -- Gabby and her beauty-pageant-trainer partner Vern have been shopping for a spendy, spendy gown for Gabby to wear to the (presumed) victory party that's being thrown at fiancé Victor's house tonight. I find it hard to believe that Gabby would wait until this late in the game to go shopping for something to wear to an event as important as this, and that she would do her shopping in Fairview of all places -- but perhaps there's a store in town that caters to midget-sized former runway models? (Small World? Short on Style? Stubby's?) As they strut up to Gabby's burgundy Aston Martin DB9 Volante convertible, they notice that a meter maid-man is writing Gabby a ticket for parking at an expired meter. Gabby regally waves off the meter man, informing him that he can stop writing the ticket because she's actually just leaving. But instead of hustling into her car like any normal person who's trying to avoid a ticket, Gabby pauses to obliviously gush to Vern about how much love she is in with the Almost Mayor. Vern: "And he's totally fine with you being a high-maintenance nightmare?" Gabby: "That's the best part! He lets me be me!" He also, as Vern points out, buys Gabby "three-thousand-dollar dresses." They exchange air kisses and Gabby turns to get into her car and finally, finally notices that the meter man hasn't skedaddled as per her instructions. To the contrary: he's been standing there the whole time, writing up her ticket. Gabby is totally confused; didn't she just get through dismissively dismissing him? This really is Gabby at her absolutely irritating worst, and you kind of feel for the meter man. But then, under his breath, he calls her a "spoiled bitch," which, while true, is also kind of creepy and lady-hater-y.
And speaking of burgundy Aston Martin DB9 Volante convertibles, I'd like to pause briefly for my own product placement...more of a displacement, really. So my DirectTV DVR has let me down yet again. I recorded this week's episode, same as always (and noted with my own beady eyes that it was recording as I watched it live), but somehow the recording never actually got stored anywhere. And not having the recording saved anywhere sort of defeats the purpose of a DVR? It wouldn't really be such a big deal now that ABC offers its latest episodes on the internet . Except that my stupid cable modem, also from Comcast, has been flickering off and on all week and thus crashing the ABC episode viewer 8,000,000,000 times a day. In short, I had to "borrow" the episode from "elsewhere," downloading it in fits and starts whenever I could manage to get at the internet. And after hours and hours and hours spent downloading, I discovered that I accidentally fetched the French subtitled version of tonight's episode. Not a deal-breaker, but still it's un peu annoying, no? In short: Ãvitez le Comcast et le DirectTV DVR Ã tout prix! (TRANS: Avoid Comcast and the DirectTV DVR at all costs!)
Carlos, wearing slippers, a faded tee, and plaid flannel pajama bottoms, comes out of Edie's house to grab the paper -- what, are they living together now? Up trots Susan (French Susan: "Carlos! Attends!") to pump Carlos about the whereabouts of Mike. Carlos: "I'm sorry, Susan, but you know what they say: 'Bros before hoes.'" Ha. Susan pretends that she only wants to know where Mike is for her own "peace of mind"...or maybe it's "piece of mind"? It's true that Susan almost always seems to be operating under the diminished power of less than half a brain. Susan, pleading with Carlos: "What am I going to do, go hunt him down? I have a daughter! I have responsibilities!" Carlos cracks and confesses that Mike "hiked to the hot springs of Pinewood Valley State Forest." Cut to...
...Susan, racing around the house in preparation for a trip into the forest -- prep that for Susan means grabbing nothing but a cute but way too thin quilted coat and a weensy, teensy pink patent-leather backpack. In a nod to her "responsibilities," referenced so passionately in the scene, she leaves Julie with a couple of twenties. Julie tries to talk her out of the crazy impromptu trip into the woods, sensibly pointing out that Mike might not be interested in seeing Susan, seeing as she did pick Ian over him. But Susan's poor piece of mind can't see the wisdom of Julie's words, and she races out the door.
Edie, Carlos, and Travers are having some quality family time -- playing video games, tickling each other, comparing muscles, exchanging noogies...the usual family stuff -- and have just finished making exciting family plans for a family day at the family batting cages when Travers's father ding-dongs; he's home from his Doctors Without Borders trip in Kenya and is just dropping by to...announce that he'll be stopping by tomorrow to pick up Travers. Why not just call? Wouldn't that be the more practical, and polite, thing to do? Ah, but then he wouldn't be able to flaunt his paternity in front of an increasingly agitated Carlos. Carlos pathetically tries to bargain with Dad: can't he wait until after the weekend to come for Travers? After all, they have plans to visit the batting cages! And hey, hey, hey, when exactly is Travers coming back for his visit? Dad, obviously a little weirded out by Carlos's obsession with his son, says, "Look at the bright side: you'll have a lot more time alone with Edie." Carlos, startled, takes a long, uncomfortable while to come up with a fake-looking nod and a smile over the prospects of alone time with Edie, sigh.
Tootie and Lynette, and some policeman and oh, hey, Tom, are all down at the police station, reviewing the security tape from the night of the robbery. Tom to Lynette: "Thank god you made me spring for that surveillance camera!" Wait, so Lynette was dumb enough to lie to her husband all these weeks about how she had to stay late to "do inventory," etcetera, while the cameras she herself installed recorded every second of her flirty, hair-down dinners with Tootie? Unbelievable. The policeman rewinds the tape for another look at the perps, but he takes things back just a little too far, forcing everyone to sit through the footage of Lynette and Tootie gazing into each other's souls for an uncomfortably long stretch of time. Lynette guiltily tries to cover up the awkward moments by babbling about how Tootie "surprised" her with a plate of "little ears" pasta, which was soooo good, and which they'll actually be serving tonight, only it's called something-something in Italian, now...what was that word? Tom cuts her short; this big pitcher knows all about little ears. Finally they get to the part in the video when the robbers waltz right into the restaurant. Cop, aghast: "So...the door was unlocked? You need to be more careful; the two of you were just asking for trouble." Lynette, fully aware of the double meaning there, dazedly mutters, "Yeah, I guess we were." Meanwhile: still no word about the stabbed and bleeding guy down at the hardware store.
Victor victory party. There's a big crowd of people there, all looking pretty and twittering excitedly. Behind them is a big flat-screen TV, tuned to KQRY for the election results, and it appears that Victor has pulled in 56% of the votes -- not exactly the landslide I predicted, but a win nonetheless. The crowd erupts into applause, and Gabby jumps on Victor, clamping her legs on him like she's riding piggyback, only face-to-face, peeper-to-peeper. Calls of "speech, speech" ring out in the crowd, and the new Mayor of Fairview politely thanks everyone for making his election possible, and says that he plans to thank Gabby, too, just as soon as the "feeling returns to [his] back" (in reference to Gabby's public display of affection). While the Mayor retreats to take the current Mayor's concession phone call, the campaign manager's wife rushes up to congratulate Gabby, pointing out that now she, like the current Mayor's wife, will no longer have to worry about parking tickets, jury duty, speeding tickets...all that boring, law-abiding civic duty stuff. Gabby's eyes twinkle, and I can think of at least one city employee who's about to get his meter plugged.
Edie, wearing a very, very off-the-shoulder black dress (after all, the clavicle is the new muffin-top in the insane world of fashionable body parts), shows up at Carlos-née-Mike's house. "Knock, knock!" she calls out, all flirty. (French Edie: "Toc, toc!") Carlos quickly asks where Travers is, and Edie says his dad's helping him pack to go home, and then she sighs hugely over the looming absence of her son. And yet, if she's so sad about missing Travers, why is she spending the last few minutes of her kid's visit over at Carlos's? Edie notices that Carlos, too, is blue over Travers's departure, and she suggests a "weekend getaway" as a way to cheer them both up. Carlos pretends to be busy with work, despite the fact that his schedule is already clear for the now-not-going-to-happen day at the batting cages. But he's still totally going to take Edie out for her birthday! Two long, long weeks from now. As it dawns on Edie that Carlos is maybe only interested in her because she comes with a son (the ultimate Barbie accessory!), the "Here Comes Edie's Ill-Advised Custody Battle Plan" music begins to thrum.
Pinewood Valley State Park Ranger Station. Susan trots up and asks for a map to the hot springs, which it turns out are a good two-day hike away. The ranger is appalled by Susan's lack of equipment. Susan gives a hyper-annoying speech about how her love for Mike is all the tent, compass, and practical hiking shoes that she needs to get to the springs. Nonetheless, the sensible ranger insists that she take a guide with her, and the butch "Toni" (the same great Rusty Schwimmer who played the now-dead bionic-eared Dale Smither from Heroes!) comes to Susan's rescue. A personal guide? Loaner camping equipment? The Eagle State's park system must be incredibly well funded; California's rangers only give you a map and a smile.
Grotesquely Uncomfortable Showdown Café. Tom has invited Tootie out for lunch, and immediately he confronts Tootie about whether or not Tootie is sleeping with Lynette; he isn't...at least not outside the walk-in refrigerator. Tom admits that he and Lynette are having some rocky times, and that Tootie probably looks pretty sweet in comparison to "five screaming kids and a cranky, invalid husband." Sweet? Try a five-foot-eleven-and-a-half-inch pile of super-fine sugar -- frankly, the coconut who walks up and down my street screaming about the marsupial war would look sexy compared to what Tom's been offering these days. Well aware of his weakened position, Tom commands Tootie to give notice. Only Tootie isn't going easy; if Tom wants him gone, he'll have to fire him. But Tom knows that if he tries to cut Tootie loose, Lynette will go to the mat for him and Tom will come off as the "jealous jerk who can't trust his wife." No, no; Tootie has to quit. Tootie, with not-so-sexy smugness: "I'm staying as long as Lynette wants me there. And, make no mistake, she wants me there." Gross. Tom tries to drop some science on Tootie about how Lynette is never going to leave her family, and even if she does sleep with Tootie, Tom is going to stick by her. So essentially...Tootie is free to roll in Lynette's hay without fear of Lynette ever leaving her husband or expecting anything more than sex from Tootie? That is the worst strategy I've ever heard, Tom. But Tom, clearly self-impressed with his straw fortress of logic, stares Tootie down with a triumphant "checkMATE"-style gaze. I think that went really well, don't you?
And back into the titular woods. Toni the tigress is stalking her way up the path to the hot springs while Susan Forrest Gumps along behind her, babbling non-stop about her woes with Mike and Ian. She talks about Mike's coma, she talks about Ian's jealousy, she talks about Mike's memory loss, blah, blah, and more blah. I'm used to Susan being maddening, but this case of diarrhea of the mouth is so explosive, it almost feels like maybe she needs some medical attention? Toni, you can tell, is already well beyond fed-up; and if it chafes me, I can only imagine how trying all that chatter is on someone with Heroically supersonic hearing. Somehow, Susan gets her hair hopelessly tangled in some bushes, and Toni has to circle back and set her free, with Susan nonstop talking all the while about her many boy troubles, pausing only to ask Toni what she would have done: wait out Mike's coma, or do what Susan did and sleep with Ian? When irritated Toni curtly tells Susan that she would have waited for the man she loved to wake up from his coma, Susan starts screeching about how "clearly, [Toni] wasn't paying attention," because if she had been listening to Susan shitstorm of an un-asked-for confession, she would have never have said such a thing! Toni rolls her eyes and keeps hiking. Actually, Susan, I'd be a little nicer to the woman who is carrying all the camping gear while you traipse along with nothing but your little pink backpack strapped to your skeletal back. The only time Susan does shut up is when a bug flies down her throat and she momentarily chokes, a gag (ha) that was a lot funnier when Goldie Hawn did it back in 1987, in Overboard.
And now for Stage One of Edie's evil plan: Travers is busy playing video games at home when Edie rolls in with a scruffy little Ewok-faced doggy in her arms. (I know, I know...I thought Travers had left already, too, but it turns out he and his dad were only packing.) The puppy is a goodbye gift for Travers! Except that he can't take the dog with him to his dad's house, because his dad is allergic to dogs, a fact that Edie "forgot" when she got him the pet. She pretends to be sad that she's now forced to take the dog back to the pound, because clearly she can't take care of a dog all on her own, and Travers is devastated. Isn't there some way for him to visit her more frequently, so he could take care of the dog? And so, with minimal steering, Edie manages to get Travers to agree to tell his dad that he wants Edie to have joint custody. Which makes no sense; this whole setup relies on Edie not being able to take care of a dog on her own, and isn't joint custody of a child a way bigger responsibility than a little fuzzy dog? Also, since when has Edie turned into the kind of woman who would manipulate a man into staying with her? The Edie I know would get one whiff of Carlos's lack of sincere interest and she would move on to the stallion in the pasture. Where did this needy Edie (Needie!) come from? And how much will it cost to send her back?
Nighttime in Confrontation Forest. Toni and Susan are gathered around the fire, and Susan has a gigantic tub of "lavender and honey" facemask goop, which must have taken up half the real estate in her ridiculous backpack. Toni, understandably appalled: "So you're in the middle of the woods, getting ready to smear your face with bear food?" Susan, scraping the cream back into the tub: "Well I wanted to look nice for Mike." God, she's terrible, horrible, unsympathetic, awful, and idiotic. And yet: why didn't Toni check her bag for bear-temptables before they left? Though I could totally see Susan being asked if her backpacklet contained any forbidden, bear-alluring items and her totally not knowing that her face cream would be on that list. But still, after a day on the trail with Susan, Toni is now well aware of what an spaz Susan is, and thus she should have double-checked Susan's bag for bear-awareness. They do some more fireside chatting about what Susan hopes will happen with Mike -- basically that he'll forgive her and they'll live happily ever after -- and Toni rolls her eyes. Susan: "I know it's dark? But I can see you!" Toni, in a refreshing gust of honesty and forthrightedness, tells Susan that she knows what Susan's problem is: it's Susan. "You don't want to be happy," Toni says, "you're a drama junkie. When there is no drama, you create it. You sleep with your ex-husband, you cheat on a coma victim, and now you're hiking up a mountain after a guy who has no idea you're coming...you don't now how to just be happy." Ahhhhh, how nice to have someone call Susan on all her shenanigans, finally, finally, finally! Now, if only they could put Toni in a room with Gabby. And Lynette. And Needie. And Bree, too, just as soon as she gets back from her Alpsian honeymoon.
The morning. Toni unzips herself out of her tent to find that Susan has totally hightailed it, and is now far, far away from Toni and all her insights and trail-smarts. Susan's has also left her tent behind, along with a heart-shaped Post-It that reads, "I don't need any more of your 'HELP,' I'll find Mike on my own. You can carry my gear back down." That sure is nice of Susan, leaving her gear for Toni to schlep home? Also: Susan didn't pack a compass, but she managed to bring heart-shaped Post-Its on this trip? And I kind of admire her for that.
Downtown again. Gabby and Vern are back to lord her status as the fiancé of the newly elected mayor over that pesky meter man. She brazenly parks her car in front of a fire hydrant, and when the meter man writes her a ticket, she tears it up in his face and scatters the pieces all over the ground, making sure to tell him all about her very intimate pull with the new mayor. Only meter man doesn't care about who she's sleeping with, and he proceeds to write her a ticket for "littering." Gabby starts shrieking about how she can do whatever she pleases. "In fact," she brats, "my first official act of business as mayoress of Fairview is to declare today Free Parking Day." She runs around like an insane person, ripping up all the parking tickets on the other cars on the street and screaming "FREE PARKING!" finally he grabs hold of her and she screams that he's hurting her, then she kicks him in the shins. Cue the sound of sirens. Gabby: "You know what that sound is, fat boy? That's the sound of your career, circling the bowl. Yeah, you're going to find out what happens when you screw with the First Lady of Fairview!" Cut to...
...gruesome Gabby getting loaded into the backseat of a cop car. And greetings to the boys in blue -- I'm glad you're here to put Gabby in the slammer, and wow does she deserve it, but may I ask how that stab victim is doing, you know, the one down at the hardware store? That certainly seems like a fish in bigger need of frying than a spoiled-rotten woman on a "Free Parking" meltdown.
Meanwhile...and you're never going to believe this, but...Susan has somehow managed to get herself lost. It's true. She had brains enough to bring the map with her, but without a compass, she's all turned around. And sadly, in the Pinewood Valley State Forest, the moss grows all around the trees, not just on the North side. Frustrated, Susan kicks one of the moss-encircled trees and then, grabbing her foot in pain, she falls over a giant log, ass-over-idiot.
Travers's dad pulls up in front of Edie's house, and Travers comes running out. And the first thing he asks is, "How would you feel about [giving Edie] joint custody?" Cut to...
...the Dad, screaming at Needie for buying Travers a puppy. Needie tries to pretend that the puppy belongs to her as she pours herself a stiff drink from behind her impressive bar, which is better stocked than some of my local watering holes. Then she screeches about how, as Travers's biological mother, she could ask for full custody, so joint custody is actually pretty generous. Dad, confused, reminds her that she's never wanted to see Travers more than "two weeks out of the year." Needie: "Well, I changed my mind."
Travers is sitting out front, playing with the puppy (which he's named "Fenway") and trying not to listen to his parents' muted shouting. Carlos walks up and invites Travers to go watch TV over at his house while Carlos hangs back and waits for the fight to end. When Dad comes out, followed by a swell of custody-battle cries, Carlos stops him and asks what's going on. Dad, still genuinely confused, tells Carlos about Edie's latest demand for joint custody, even though the logistics are pretty un-kid-friendly: "We live four hours away. What's [Travers] going to do, go to two different schools?" Carlos tells Dad that he totally sympathizes, which comes as some relief -- I was worried that Carlos's love of Travers was going to cause him to join forces with Needie in a nasty custody battle. Dad can't figure out what's gotten into Edie, but it's clear that Carlos knows the answer to the mystery: Carlos has gotten into Edie. More than once.
Nighttime at the Scavoria. Lynette shows the last customers to the door and pointedly locks up behind them. Then she brings Tootie an espresso and asks him (rubbing his shoulder) if everything's okay; he sure has been (patting his hair) quiet tonight. The ease with which she touches him speaks volumes about how close they've become, which, considering they've known each other for just one month, is very, very close. Almost unrealistically so? Tootie confesses that Tom took him out to lunch today and accused him of having an affair with Lynette. Lynette does a terrible job of pretending to be confused and startled by this news, and then she scrambles to apologize; clearly Tom has "misinterpreted" things. But Tootie doesn't think Tom is misinterpreting anything; clearly they're attracted to one another, right? Lynette coughs uncomfortably and walks off, muttering that she doesn't know what Tootie's talking about. Tootie: "Lynette, how long are we going to kid ourselves? I have feelings for you, I know you feel something for me." And then Lynette totally snaps. Really mad now, she starts yelling at him for vocalizing the unsaid, which means now everything's out in the open, which means now something has to be done about it. And what choice does she have but to ask him to leave? Like right now. Stat. Felicity Huffman really goes to town in this scene, breaking dishes, shrieking, moaning, weeping and revealing all kinds of multi-layered emotional chords, and it's so clear that this woman's heart is breaking in truly complicated ways. Maybe this is a sick crush, maybe it's love, maybe it's just that the one fun, look-forward-to-able part of her day-to-day existence is now suddenly gone. And yet...whatever the reason, it's a little too big of a reaction, considering it's over losing someone whom Lynette met just four scant weeks ago? Someone she's never even kissed? A little groping, sure...but still. This is a bit over the top, right? Maybe? Just a touch?
Toni's back at the forest ranger station poring over maps, trying to figure out where the insanely selfish Susan might have gotten herself lost. Mike walks in to check in with the rangers, letting them know that he returned safely from his hike. He's halfway out the door when he hears the missing woman described as a "total klutz." After a few beats, he reappears, wondering if they might tell him the name of said klutz. Cut to...
...Susan, limping around in the almost-darkness, utterly alone except for the soothing harmonies of a Halloween "spooky owl" CD. Susan pulls out her cell phone and places a call not to Julie, not to the forest ranger station, but to...? Mike. Susan's idiocy in this episode is such a disappointment, especially considering that only last week she was beginning to show signs of being likeable. Pfffft. Susan leaves a tearful little message for Mike on his machine, all dripping with "je t'aime"s and full of promises that she "doesn't want any more drama," and then her cell phone dies mid-sentence -- and how dare that Toni accuse her of being a drama-starved attention slut! With that, the poor little match girl curls up under her map and falls asleep.
Mayor mansion. The campaign manager ("Jerome") leads a chastened-looking Gabby into the living room and informs the Mayor that Gabby's been politically pulled out of the clink and her record expunged. The Mayor, who's clearly in a sour mood, commands Jerome to "give [them] the room," and then he just tears right into Gabby. "Are you familiar with the quote," he asks sternly, "'from the one to whom much is entrusted, even more will be demanded'?" Gabby's isn't familiar. Mayor: "It's from the bible." Gabby laughs and says "that explains [why she didn't get the reference]." Mayor, with tyrannical scream: "THIS IS NOT A JOKE!" The smile melts off Gabby's face, and she clutches her wrist nervously. He explains, with a mean, dismissive tone, that as Mayor, certain things are expected of him and of his moll, and "assault[ing] city employees" isn't on this list of expectations. And not only is he unhappy about Gabby's fiasco with the meter man, but he's also not pleased that she jumped all over him like a little schoolgirl at his victory party. She's (more than) welcome to act childish in private (preferably in plaid mini catholic schoolgirl skirt with gigantic lollipop), but in public she has to act "like a grownup." So much for him loving Gabby for Gabby, as she gushed earlier to Vern. Gabby apologizes and agrees to try harder, and already the pattern feels set for some super-upsetting domestic violence in the not-so-distant distance. Oh and also: as she leaves, the Mayor notices the bruise on her wrist, the battle scar from her run-in with the meter man. Gabby brushes it off, saying "it's not as bad as it looks." "Still," he says, all emotional, "he shouldn't have done that." And for a second it looks like he's going to apologize for being so awful to her, but...no.
It's 9:30 at night and Lynette's home early from the restaurant. Tom, who's already in bed, is surprised to see her. As she explains in suspiciously chipper tones, it was "dead [at the Scavoria] tonight." Oh and also? Something else that happened at work today: Tootie "gave notice," so they need to find a new chef. Tom, who doesn't know that Lynette knows that he had a talk with Tootie, pretends to be all "huh, what, really?" and Lynette goes along with it, telling Tom that Tootie apparently had a job offer at "some place across town." Tom, secretly thrilled, announces that there's no need to hire a chef because he is "coming back!" Lynette's face goes blank, and you can tell that she's afraid over how not-at-all-thrilled she is by this announcement, and she heads into the bathroom to run herself a bath. With the roar of the bath water as cover, she finally allows her Cheerful Wife And Mother face to crack, and she slowly crumbles into a heap of tears. Outside the door, Tom yells at her about how thrilled he is to have things back on track, that they're "a team again," and his words just contrast in a really great, sad way with the private tragedy going on inside the bathroom. And three hip-hip-hoorays for Felicity Huffman -- she really does act the stuffing out of this scene, just totally capturing that particular strain of lost, trapped loneliness that a person can get even when, especially when, that person is surrounded by people who love her.
Edie's lying on the couch, be-robed and filing her talons, when Carlos comes a-knocking. Blood-lusty Edie excitedly describes the dastardly lawyer she's engaged for the sure-to-be-nasty custody war with Travers's dad. Carlos, as nicely as he humanly can, points out that maybe joint custody isn't the best thing for the kid; he'd have to have two schools; two sets of friends...then there's all that traveling. Edie: "He's a kid, he'll adjust." Carlos: "Kids need stability." And then Needie, horribly, says, "What about what I need?" Ugh, ugh. I do not like this creepy, dependant Edie. What have they done to this poor woman! I call bullshit! I call character assassination! Okay so then Carlos says to her, "I know you're worried about being lonely, but I am going to be here for you." Wow. When last we checked, Carlos totally wasn't in it to win it with Edie, and now he's agreeing to some kind of (admittedly undefined, but still) commitment? Is this all for Travers's sake? Or did he see something vulnerable in Edie that he'd never spied before, and discovered he kind of liked it/her? Or is he just lying to her so she'll see reason about the custody battle, with the plan being that he'll just let her down later? Hm. In any case, she agrees to "call off the lawyer," and then she puts her head on his chest and tearfully insists that she's "really going to miss [Travers]." And Carlos Blue Steels that he, too, will be missing the little lad.
And now for the Mayor's official victory celebration. It's a weirdly not-so-classy affair: it's sparsely attended, the lighting is too harsh, and people are sitting in what look like folding wooden chairs. Also, there's one of those tacky balloon archways that's very "Welcome back, Class of 1988!" The Mayor and the newly meek-ened Gabby share a solo first dance -- something I think you only do at weddings? But considering that I've been to exactly zero small-time mayoral celebration bashes, what do I know? The song, appropriately enough (as ye soon shall see), is "Someone to Watch Over Me." Contrast-cut to...
...two mean-looking guys stopping the meter man (named "Jeff") as he gets into his car, and then they just start wailing on him. What the...? Who? Huh? MAVO! Where are you? We need you to explain what the hell is going on here! Contrast-cut back to...
...the Mayoral bash, where Victor whispers into Gabby's ear, "Do you know how much I love you?" just as...
...the two thugs start really laying into Jeff the meter man. And then back to Gabby...
...who answers Mayor McBusive's question of love with a sad little, "I think so." And then back to the bloody flipside of the Mayor's affections...
...and finally, as Jeff collapses to the ground and the two bruisers give up and walk away, MAVO pipes up. "Anyone can end up a victim," she tells us, "injured by the actions of others."
"But whether the damage is inflicted by a cunning ex-wife," MAVO tells us, and we see Travers and his dad leave Edie's, and Travers has doggy Fenway in his arms. So I guess Dad isn't allergic to dogs now? Or is the sneezing and wheezing the "damage" of which Mary Alice speaks? I'm sorry, MA, I don't follow.
Tootie packs up his stuff and walks out of the Scavoria, and MAVO pairs the image with, "Or a blow delivered by the object of our affection." Lynette, lying awake to a sleeping Tom, stares mournfully into space, and MAVO summarizes that "the time comes when we must pick ourselves up and continue on our journey."
"And if we can't, then all we can pray for is rescue." Morning in the fantastical forest. Susan wakes up to find Mike, her one and only, standing above her. She groggily whines that she sprained an ankle, and Mike says, "Good." Dick. Ah, but then he adds, "Because now I get to do this!" And, with a waterfall burbling behind them and the sweet song of, like, fairies trilling joyfully underneath, Mike sweeps her into his arms and they French and French and French. He totally je t'aimes her, too! And I think they sell portrait-sized waterfall motion lamps that depict this exact scenic scene.
Up : Mike and Susan finally, finally get engaged and Lynette has some horrible disease, maybe.