By Evany
Susan complains to Betty about the weird and endless clanking sounds emanating from Betty's house. Betty goes to a psychiatrist and claims that a horrific history with an abusive husband has led to some trouble sleeping. The doctor prescribes sleepy drugs, which Betty promptly grinds up and puts in Basement Buddy's soup. Susan's clanking problem? Solved! Karl sleeps with Edie, and indeed has been doing the honors for months. This brings up some feelings for Susan -- rage, jealousy, insecurity, hunger? -- which are perhaps to blame for her "accidentally" reversing her car over Edie. (Though maybe Susan was merely trying to put Edie's insane roller derby outfit out of its misery?) Mr. Mom Tom's house cleaning is not up to Lynette's standards, so she plants a rat in the house to scare Tom into implementing some elbow grease. Her plan works, but also gets the innocent rat flattened to death by Tom and his shovel. Carlos's cellmate discovers that he's rich and threatens to beat him unless Carlos gives the cellmate's girlfriend $7000 for breast-enhancement surgery. Gabby goes to drop off the money, but winds up talking the girl out of the operation instead. Carlos gets his beating, and enterprising Gabby uses his fear of future abuse to force him to reinstate her signing power over their finances. Rex's doctor finds the "I forgive you" note Rex wrote for Bree as he was dying, and shows it to...the police? No! He shows it to Rex's life-insurance agent. Mommy Phyllis's incessant crying and grief-hogging gets Bree so annoyed that she slaps her across the face right in the middle of a restaurant. George stops by to offer Bree comfort, Mommy Phyllis spies the two of them hugging, and slap-stung Mommy Phyllis reports Bree's philandering to...the police? No! She reports it to Rex's life-insurance agent. Total episode abuse tally? A slap, a beating, a flattening, and also vehicular assault.
Previously on Desperate Housewives: Rex wrote Bree an "I forgive you" note just before dying; Karl told Susan he wanted to get back together; plus all the stuff that went down in last week's episode.
MAVO invites us to meet paperboy Danny "I Want My Two Dollars" Farrell. Apparently, after six months of throwing papers into puddles, into rose bushes, and into the vicinity of sleeping pet cats, Danny has made some enemies along Wisteria Lane. MAVO: "People wondered if Danny would ever change. They should have talked to Susan Mayer. She could have told them that obnoxious boys tend to become obnoxious men." Susan comes out of her house, wearing a short robe over some kind of matching shorts-and-top sleeping gear. To fetch her paper, Susan has to walk all the way out into the middle of the street, which is where careless, unfeeling, future-philanderer Danny dropped it. As she bends to pick up the paper, Susan notices Karl. Karl, too, is wearing a short robe, which he's paired with boxers and a bare, bare chest, which features a startling array of taut six-packery. Is Karl making himself a little extra pocket money as an early morning strip-o-grammer? (And if so, I think I have some waffles that need buttering.) Oh. He isn't stripping. He's just picking up Edie's paper. Susan squints, not sure if her eyes are broken or what, and then her face does a lava-lamp morph from sleeping pre-coffee daze to surprise to anger.
Susan breaks into a funny little trot, with her arms sort of stationary at her sides, kind of like a ballerina making a big entrance. "Hey!" she yells. Karl looks up and then ducks. "Karl! I see you! Just stop right there," Susan shrills. Karl resignedly turns to meet her, "Hey Susie-Q," he says, all casual. Susan asks him just what it is that he's doing. He reveals that he's just there to get the paper. Susan points out that the paper in his hand belongs to Edie, as does the house he came out of. Karl: "Do we have to do this now? I haven't had my coffee." Which, I must say, I find both funny and truly sympathize-able. Finally Susan gets it: "Did you spend the night with Edie?" Karl just gives a little wince and/or passes gas, and rubs his well-developed stomach. Susan gives an "oh my god," and Karl tries to get her to calm down. Susan: "You are forbidden from ever seeing her again! You hear me? FOBIDDEN!" Karl points out that he and Susan are divorced, and that Susan no longer has a say in matters of his heart or penis. And really, Susan, I have to agree with him on this one. "I live on this street!" Shrewsan wails. "Your daughter lives on this street! I will not have you flaunting your sexcapades in front of us!" She raps Karl on the chest with her newspaper. Karl, by the way, is totally yawning here. "'Sexcapades'?" he asks, amused. But Susan just says, "FORBIDDEN!" one more time. Karl: "I would love to continue this, but it's time for breakfast, and Edie is making me a frittata." I just realized that "frittata" is kind of a funny word. Frah-tah-tah. Certainly it's the most sexy-sounding of the egg-based breakfasts. (What did one dirty vaudevillian say to the other? "Nice frittatas!" To which she replied? "Wait until you get a taste of my pigs in a blanket!") Susan gives a huge sarcastic gasp and says, "I just BET SHE IS." And then she turns and speed-marches off. Susan makes me sad for all women everywhere.
Paperboy Danny rolls up beside the marching Susan. Susan tries to give him the brush-off, but he reminds her that she's a month behind in payments. "My dad says that if you read something and you don't pay for it, that's stealing," he brats. Susan waves hello to Ida, who is pushing a basket full of groceries up the other side of the street. Ida kind of looks like Karl Malden (only sexier). Susan tells Danny that now is not a good time at all: "I just found my ex is dating my neighbor, and I'm really ticked off," which interests Danny not at all. "Save it," he says. "I provide you with service, and I deserve to be paid for that service." Susan stops walking, and Danny, for no particular reason, rides away. Was he done with his badgering? People who get that aggressive that quickly don't tend to give up that easily. MAVO: "Yes, the women of Wisteria Lane believed Danny Farrell to be the enemy." Danny looks back at Susan over his shoulder and yells, "Deadbeat!" Because she is nuts and has the emotional control of a seven-year-old, Susan throws her paper at the paperboy. The paper catches Danny's front tire, causing him to flip over his handlebars. Ira looks over at Susan with a shocked expression. MAVO: "[The women of Wisteria Lane] also believed the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Ida's shocked expression turns into a smile, as she gives Susan the thumbs-up. Okay, this scene feels totally off to me. For one thing, the "obnoxious boys become obnoxious men" theme is awkward because Susan's behavior is way more obnoxious than Karl's here, especially considering that she has not a leg to stand on after dating Edie's ex after Edie asked her not to. And while yes, the paperboy is obnoxious, it still doesn't justify Susan's childish pique and its resulting brutal bike accident. And finally, I'm not at all sure what this whole "enemy of my enemy" conclusion has to do with the rest of the episode, and tacking that on at the end makes the whole scene feel even more context-less. Now, if the MAVO was using Susan to demonstrate how unrewarding and repulsive shrewish behavior really is, that would be spot-on.
MAVO: flowers, lawns, happiness, etc., "these are the hallmarks of suburbia." Wow, really? Based on personal experience, I'd say suburbia is more about clove cigarettes, premature sarcasm, and overly eager law enforcement. "But if you look beneath the veneer of gracious living, you will see a battle raging -- a battle for control." We see a woman struggling with a garage-door opener, a man yelling at kids to get off his lawn, a crossing guard losing her mind and throwing her stop sign at a car. Lynette, dressed for business and looking sharp, walks over to the sink to drop off her coffee cup. The sink, however, is totally overrun with dishes. Mr. Mom Tom tells her just to stick the cup anywhere, and he'll get to it later. Lynette comments that things are "really piling up." Mom Tom tells her not to worry: he "has a system." This comes as something of a surprise to Lynette, but he explains: "I let the mess accumulate for two days, and then I clean until it's sparkling, and then the cycle starts all over again." "And why," wonders Lynette (in a semi-irritating baby voice), "have I never seen the 'sparkling' part?" Tom: "Well, because by the time you get home from work, the boys have messed everything up again." That is what Lynette would call a "flaw in the system." Tom downshifts to defensive, telling her he feels criticized. Lynette fires off a litany of "no"s, insisting that she doesn't need things to be "sparkling." Tom: "How many times did I come home to mess and I never said a word?" (Yes, but he did come home and withhold a makeout session because Lynette smelled of baby hurl.) Lynette clarifies that she thinks he's doing a terrific job: "When you came home, it was to clutter. I mean, come on." Lynette holds up a plate with a fork stuck to it. "This is more than that." A fly scuttles out onto the table and Lynette smashes it with The Wall Street Journal.
Mommy Phyllis and Bree are at the dry cleaner. Phyllis is bitching to Bree about another customer. "Look at her, just chatting away," she snarks. "So inconsiderate." Bree: "Phyllis, we've only been waiting here for two minutes!" Phyllis: "I told you when we left the house that I needed to eat. I have low blood sugar. Do you want to see me keel over?" Bree: "No...in theory." Ha. The dry cleaner man comes over with Bree's cleaned clothes, and he pauses to offer his condolences about Rex: "I'm so sorry, Dr. Van de Kamp was one of my most favorite customers, truly." I'm surprised that super-housewife Bree left any dry cleaning up to Rex, but okay. Bree thanks him for his sweetness. "I'm not just being polite, Mrs. Van de Kamp." he clarifies. "How are you feeling?" Bree ekes out a pleasantly surprised little smile. She takes a breath to answer, but Mommy Phyllis butts in: "We're holding up as best as we can, under the circumstances." Why, exactly, is Phyllis still in town? Bree introduces Phyllis to the dry cleaner, and he offers her his condolences as well. "Thank you," Phyllis says with a showy sadness. "You know, the hardest thing is to lose a child." A line of people is beginning to form behind them, and Bree tries to get Phyllis moving: "Let's get you something to eat!" But Phyllis is in full wallow and not at all ready to move on: "We had no warning. I was doing dishes when I got the call!" Bree points out that people are, indeed, waiting. (Remember, Phyllis? How just moments ago you were complaining about how inconsiderate it was to make people wait?) Phyllis turns to the woman behind them and says, "Excuse me, I'm so sorry. But my son just passed away!" The woman is suitably horrified. Phyllis: "I was telling Mr. Pashmutt here, my life is just over. MY LIFE IS OVER!" Oh my god, Phyllis! The way she can take a sympathetic position of a mother mourning the loss of her son and make it 100% irritating is a true wonder. Brava, Mommy Phyllis!
Gabby is visiting Carlos in jail. Carlos is signing checks, and Gabby is complaining about how ridiculous it is that she has to come all the way in to get his signature: "Don't you think I have better things to do than to bring you checks every day, checks that I could be signing at home?" Why do they have so many checks that need writing? Every single day? I write most of my checks for the month all in one day. Though I guess I don't have...gardeners to pay, et cetera. And maybe Gabby's keeping his business going? I don't know. More to the point, Gabby is miffed that she still does not have access to their bank accounts: "Do you know how long it takes for me to schlep out here to this hellhole?" Carlos: "Exactly. It's the only way I can guarantee you'll come and visit me." Good point. Gabby, in a bored, "reciting memorized text" sort of tone, says, "That's ridiculous. You're my husband. I love you. Obviously, I would come visit." Carlos: "I thought it was obvious that when you loved someone, you wouldn't have an affair. I was wrong, wasn't I?" Gabby is getting very tired of "this song," and thinks it's high time he forgave her. Carlos: "You want my forgiveness, you got it. My trust? That you're going to have to earn." Gabby threatens him, saying that, up until now, she's been "really lonely in that big bed of [theirs]." She goes on: "But when you're rude to me, it makes me want to be not so lonely," which is just a convoluted Gabby way of saying "if you're rude to me, I will have sex to someone else." Carlos (and I feel I should add that this scene has a lot more sparkle than it reads here...they do have a snappy chemistry, I'll say that much for Gabby and Carlos): "Comments like that are exactly while you'll never have access to my money." Gabby: "Why are all rich men jerks?" Carlos: "The same reason all beautiful women are such bitches," which earns some quizzical glances from the other prisoners and visitors in the room. Gabby and Carlos stare at each other for a long second, and it's one of those "I hate you, but not as much as I hate your clothes, which are preventing me from engaging in intercourse with you right here and right now on this very table" sort of looks. Carlos, very matter-of-factly: "So, same time tomorrow?" Gabby says, "Sure, baby," and leans over for a kiss. I guess visitors are allowed to touch inmates at this prison? (Though really, since my knowledge of prison-visiting protocol is only what I've gleaned from other television shows, I'm in no position to call bullshit on this one.)
Susan is pulling clothes out of the dryer and wringing Julie for gossip about Karl. Susan: "Your father actually told you he was going to be having a one-night stand with Edie Britt?" Julie: "Uh, mom? This wasn't a one-night stand. He's actually been going out with Mrs. Britt for a few months now." Aww, she calls Edie "Mrs. Britt"! Julie is a delightful, polite-ful teenager. Susan, who you may recall is just seven years old, starts screeching at Julie for not telling her about Karl and Edie before now: "How could you not tell me that? We share everything, that's what we're known for! That's our thing!" Julie confesses that she didn't tell Susan because she knew she'd "wig out" just as she's now doing: "Besides, haven't you always taught me to respect other people's privacy?" (Oh, you know, like when Susan brought Julie along to stalk Mike?) Susan: "Oh I'd never apply that concept to your father's sex life, and you know it." (Hold on, is Susan saying she wants her daughter to poke around in her father's sex life and then report back with all the gruesome details? Ew.) Julie asks if Susan's done yet, but she is not. Susan needs to scream and stomp some more about the "peroxide vulture" that is Edie Britt who, Susan is convinced, went after Karl just to spite Susan. Julie: "Wrong again...he asked her out." Susan: "You lie." (Calling her daughter a liar? Just another brick in the wall that separates Susan from being a nurturing parent.) Julie: "It's true: he called her six months ago, the day after my birthday party." Susan, with dawning discomfort: "The one at the piano bar?" Julie notices that Susan's screeching has been replaced by a sudden and suspicious angst. She asks what gives, and Susan fumbles around, muttering something about how Karl came over that day, and said some things, things that she didn't, can't, and won't tell Julie. Julie: "Wait. Whatever happened to 'we share everything'? Isn't that our thing? What we're known for?" Susan: "Actually, I think we're known for sharing clothes." Susan shakes a tank top she's just folded as an example of the kind of clothes those two share, and then she throws the dry, folded tank-top back into the empty dryer and slams the door.
And then we cut over to casa de Applebite, where we get an ominous shot of the door to Basement Buddy's dungeon. Get it? Dryer door, dungeon door. What does it all mean? Are we supposed to draw analogies between these odd scene crossovers? Like a well-dried tankini that fits both a mother and daughter, the Basement Buddy, too, needs to be placed in a hot, tumultuous place until it is even more dry than ever before? We hear, and then see, that Basement Buddy is thrashing its chains against what appears to be a metal bed frame. Betty and her fine son are upstairs, eating silently. A gorgeous pie looms in the foreground. (Literally!) Matthew asks why Basement Buddy keeps doing that, and Betty says it's because he knows it's annoying: "He's just trying to get to us." Matthew: "Yeah, well, it's working." Matthew goes over to the basement door and yells down to the basement to knock it off. Betty tells him to sit back down and reminds him that they're not to talk to him: "That's part of his punishment." Matthew asks how she can sit there and listen to it, hour after hour, and Betty says, "Well, that's part of mine." And watching this episode, which really is every inch a B- show tonight, is part of mine.
Speaking of punishment: Gabby's back at the big house, sitting at the visitors' table and powdering her nose. A guard brings in Vitamin Carlos. (You see, I call him that because he's all in orange, and oranges are rife with vitamin C, and Carlos is a name that starts with a "C"). Gabby asks what the big emergency is that required her to cancel her hair appointment. Carlos is tense and bashful and "completely freaked out": "There's this guy, and his name is Richie, and he's been...saying some stuff to me, and I'm getting worried." Gabby dismisses him with the wave of her hand and tells him simply to tell Richie that Carlos is flattered, but that he doesn't swing that way. Carlos: "He's not hitting on me, you idiot, he's threatening me." This scene, for some freakish reason, caused my boyfriend, Marco, to just laugh and laugh. Something about Carlos's use of the word "idiot" really tickled him. I'd hoped that, watching it again, that I might discover what was so funny? But that is not the case. Maybe if you imagine it as more of a Napoleon Dynamite sort of "idiot," that makes it funny? The idea of Carlos invoking Napoleon Dynamite? Wait, let me rewind. Yeah, no. Not really that funny. But you know what's awesome? The "bloop" my Tivo makes when I hit rewind. Bloop, bloop, bloop. Surely that is a bad sign? That I find the sound effects of my DVR device more compelling than this episode? Bloop. Sorry, what? Right: unless Gabby gives Richie's girlfriend $7000, Carlos is going to get a beating. Gabby is scandalized, and confused as to why anyone would think Carlos would have that kind of money. Carlos: "Because yesterday, in a visiting room filled with criminals, my wife referred to me as a 'rich man.'" Gabby: "Oh, right. Sorry." See! There was a reason I transcribed all the dialogue of their scene! Gabby thinks this is a mistake, arguing that if they give in to extortion, the guy's just going to keep hitting them up for more money. Maybe Carlos should use his brawn instead of his wallet? "You're a strong guy," Gabby points out. "You went to college on an athletic scholarship." Carlos: "Yeah, it was for golf!" This earns another small "oh" from Gabby. Right, golf. Golf is not that threatening. You'd think a sport with many varied "clubs" to swing would be more violent, but sadly, no.
Oh right, Susan. Sigh. Mike's at the door, come to collect his pants. Don't get excited. The pants he refers to are not the pants of a tryst so wild that it leaves pants in its wake. Rather, he's there for the box of pants he left behind when he cleared out all his stuff. Oh that old trick. They make strained small talk, and then Mike asks where he and Susan are now: they're not moving in, they're not breaking up, so what's the deal? Susan: "Since the guy who held me hostage turned out to be your son, logic dictates I should move on. Problem is, I'm crazy about you." Yeah, and also logic has never dictated anything Susan does, so why start now? Susan's verdict: "Keep it casual." Mike wonders what the parameters of "casual" are, practically speaking. Susans hazards that maybe they could go see a movie every once in awhile. Jogging, they could go jogging, and shopping is also "casual and fun." Mike asks if maybe there isn't anything else, something like this HUGE FRENCHIE-STYLE KISS, PERHAPS? Susan responds for a few seconds, then squirms out of his reach and suggests...brunch, maybe they could also do brunch. Mike kind of nods, grabs his box full of jeans, and retreats. Susan looks sad. Is it possible she's screwed things up? Again?
Mommy Phyllis is on the phone, crying herself a river. I feel a little weepy myself. Will Phyllis never leave? Will this episode ever end? Bree comes downstairs and asks Phyllis who was on the phone. Apparently it was "someone named Allen Handley." Bree: "My electrician? Why were you on the phone sobbing to my electrician?" Oh, he called to offer Bree his condolences, but he and Phyllis got to talking, and he had some "very beautiful things to say about Rex." Mommy Phyllis starts crying again. Bree stands there, nodding her head a few seconds, trying to bite her tongue, but then she lets slip, "For god's sake, Phyllis, don't you ever worry about dehydration?" Which is kind of mean? And yet, Phyllis is so incredibly off-putting that I forgive Bree. Phyllis is all, "Are you saying that I am too emotional?" Bree: "I'm saying that even Italians take a break now and again." Phyllis reminds Bree that she's grieving her dead SON. Bree: "So am I, but no one would ever know it with your incessant caterwauling. People want to know how I'm doing, but the minute they ask me, you jump into the spotlight and they forget all about me." Again, it seems remarkably petty for these two women to be arguing about who gets what attention, and yet Phyllis is so heinous, it seems justified. Bree: "I need consoling too, Phyllis, have you ever thought of that?" Phyllis apologizes and says it will never happen again, but adds that, really, Bree's overly controlled emotions are to blame: "If you didn't constantly suppress your emotions, people wouldn't forget to console you." Phyllis calls Bree cold. Bree denies it, saying that she simply dislikes public displays of emotion. Phyllis says that people have been wondering why Bree never cries, and wondering if maybe she doesn't even mourn Rex's death. Phyllis knows her stuff, because immediately Bree is freaked out by the idea of people talking about her, which Phyllis almost surely fabricated, but again, Phyllis knows her Bree!
Gabby has driven her Spyder into a bad neighborhood, as evidenced by the late-model cars up on blocks and the weeds in lieu of lawns; we are far afield of MAVO's flowered, lawn-tastic suburbs. A woman is shucking corn on the front stoop, and Gabby tells her she's looking for "Rita Rivera." The woman takes a walking cane and bangs on the front door, and out comes a woman wearing cut-offs and a turquoise tank with black lacy bra underneath. I get the feeling that the costumers were trying to make her look trashy here, but really it's nothing we don't see on Edie every day. ...Oh, wait. Gabby introduces herself and tells Rita that their husbands are roommates at the prison. Rita laughs and says, "Richie and I aren't married." Gabby downgrades, "Well, your boyfriend asked my husband to give this to you." She hands Rita an envelope containing the $7000. Rita looks at the money, yells "son of a bitch," throws the money down, and slams the door. The corn-shucker looks at the bills, and Gabby tells her not to even think about it and gathers up the cash. Rita comes back outside and grabs the envelope. "This might seem kind of weird," she says, but...what does Gabby think of her breasts? Gabby thinks they're nice, and Rita sincerely thanks her for saying so. She, too, likes her own breasts. Gabby: "You're right, that was weird." Gabby tries to make a retreat to the car, but Rita calls after her, "You have no idea what this money is for, do you?" "No, you seem to have..." Gabby takes a snarky look around the neighborhood "...everything you need." But Rita informs Gabby that the money is for a boob job: "Richie is obsessed with huge breasts." Gabby looks at Rita thumbing the money, pauses to let her money-grubbing side take over, and then launches into some "sisters are doing it for themselves"/"our bodies, ourselves"/"I love you just the way you are" talk. Rita says that if she doesn't do it, Richie is going to leave her. Helpful Gabby: "Honey, he's in jail. How far is he going to go? Maybe it's time you stood up for yourself -- tell him you don't need the surgery." Rita concedes that it might be worth a shot. Gabby grabs back the envelope, tells Rita how proud she is of her, and scuttles back to her car. Poor Rita, too slow to notice that she could have kept her breasts AND the money. Also: poor Carlos. Better learn how to put up those dukes, golfie!
Lynette hobbles home, her work heels clearly killing her. Her hair is very "bedhead," and she looks tired, tired, tired. MAVO: "When Lynette went back to work, she was aware her new job would be demanding. What she hadn't anticipated was the night shift." Lynette turns on the lights in the kitchen and is greeted with an unholy mess. The milk is out, half-empty glasses are strewn everywhere, food is all over everything, and there is evidence of boxes that formerly contained pizza and "Kitchen Fresh Chicken" box. Oh Mr. Mom Tom! You are so messy and nutritionally retarded.
Much later, Lynette comes to bed, and Tom says he thought he heard her come in a full hour ago, as in, what has she been up to? Lynette, it seems, has been busy loading the dishwasher. Tom says she didn't have to do that. Lynette: "Yeah...I sort of did." Tom says he's sorry that he's "sort of fallen behind on the housework." He cites the many errands he had to run today, etc., and then says he'll make up for it tomorrow. Lynette's eyes are closed and she looks as though she's just about to head off to sleep, when Tom adds, "That's the beauty of my system. It's flexible." Lynette's eyes spring open: "You know, for the sake of our marriage, please don't mention the system again." And then, with a startled "what the hell?" Lynette sits up. Apparently, baby Penny had a little "spitty-uppy" at the foot of the bed, under the sheets. What was she doing, stuffed way down there? Or was the bed stripped down to its fitted sheet when Penny barfed, and then Tom made the bed on top of it? In any case, through some gross miracle there's vomit made into the bed, and Tom has done nothing but spread a dishtowel over it. Lynette is disgusted, but Tom points out that the towel is very clean. Tom: "It's just a little spit-up, a little milky spit-up on the sheets. Please, I made a judgment call, now please respect that." Lynette says that she will not respect it since it is stupid. And, I think, something Tom wouldn't have allowed if the vomit were on, say, his side of the bed. Tom puts his foot down: Lynette is not changing the sheets! Tom says that this altercation "is not about spit-up, it's about control," which, he points out, is one of Lynette's issues. Lynette: "Why are you fighting so hard to sleep on baby vomit?" Tom is fighting for a principle. Lynette: "Being too lazy to change the sheets is not a principle." Tom tells Lynette that she is not going to win his one: "So you better crawl back into bed." But Lynette still has some fight left in her! She yanks off the sheets (and in this shot, the bed looks virtually vomit-clear) and tries to tear them off with Tom still lying there. They wrestle awhile, and it looks almost fun, but it's clear they're both enraged. Lynette gives Tom some parting blows with her pillow and then moves out to the couch, where she sits on one of the P's trucks. Dirty, messy, vomit-lover Tom! MAVO: "Normally, Lynette would have spent a sleepless night telling herself that she didn't have control issues." Lynette turns on the television, and some rat-infested movie is on -- Ben maybe? The movie gives Lynette an idea of how to, as MAVO puts it, "bend Tom to her will." She sits up with glee and alertness and watches as many, many rats converge on some guy in the movie. The scene fades along with the man's screams.
The day (on her lunch break, I guess), Lynette sneaks back home with a box full of rat and sets it free into the "promised land" of her family's kitchen. The floor is covered with crumbs, which does a good job of reminding us why she's resorted to these lengths, but it still seems like a very bad idea. As the movie she watched the night so graphically illustrated, rats multiply (though I guess that would take two rats, unless this rat, like Gabby, is mistakenly knocked up?). Also, you would think that a mother might be slightly leery of setting a rat loose around her children. I know rats make nice pets, but even if this one is friendly and clean and rabies-free, it's still going to scare the kids, and there's probably going to be lots of screaming and mayhem, and who knows what the animal's going to do in that situation? Though knowing Lynette's children, it's probably the rat that should be afraid. In any case: bad idea!
Betty pulls her gigantic SUV up in front of her house, and Susan runs over from her yard. Apparently, Susan's been hearing some weird noises recently? Betty claims not to know what Susan's stalking about, which Susan finds somewhat puzzling since she's pretty sure the noises are coming directly from the Applespite house. Susan starts to describe the sound: "It's like a clanging, clanging --" when she's interrupted by the actual noise itself. Betty, forced to admit she hears something too, blames it on Matthew, who's always "doing projects around the house." Betty guesses she's gotten so used to it that she just doesn't notice it anymore! Susan: "Even at two o'clock in the morning?" Using the most nutso, medicated singsong voice ever (outside of the MAVO herself), Betty apologizes: "Matthew's somewhat of an insomniac, Susan, but I will talk to him, and we'll put a stop to it." And at that very inopportune moment, Matthew himself walks up the street. What the? Who? Betty and Susan exchange an odd little moment, and then Betty thanks Susan for the chat. Dismissed!
Bree and Mommy Phyllis are at a nice restaurant, and Bree is on her celly. Apparently the queen of manners won't call anyone before 9 but has no qualms placing a phone call while sitting at the table with her mother-in-law. I am full of doubt! Bree is talking to a Mr. Flannery, telling him that this is her third phone call, and that she wants someone to call her back soon or she's going to be very "irritated." Apparently, Rex's insurance company is dragging its heels on paying off Rex's life insurance policy. Phyllis makes some odd comment about how sudden deaths make things complicated, and how it's "probably easier when people are just diseased." Lynette walks over; I guess she's taking a very long lunch, what with infesting her house with rat and the long sit-down meal. Lynette rubs Bree's shoulder and asks how she's been holding up. Bree manages to say she's doing all right, and then here comes Phyllis, first with a little hic of a sob, then with a slightly louder sigh, and then full-on huffing, puffing tears. Bree, with a rage-blocking smile, tells Phyllis that she needs to stop. Phyllis says she can't help it -- that when people talk about Rex, she just gets so worked up. She continues to hic and weep, until finally Lynette is forced to offer condolences to Phyllis as well. Phyllis ramps it up, keening that Rex is her first-born, and that she doesn't know what she's going to do without him. (Really, her first-born? Where are the other siblings, I wonder? Maybe they heard their mother was going to be at the funeral and steered clear?) Lynette clucks sympathetically, and Phyllis grabs Lynette's arm and hugs it to her cheek, bawling. Lynette asks Bree if she thinks Phyllis is going to be okay, and Bree gets up, walks around the table, and slaps Phyllis across the face. It is a very loud slap. "There we go," says Bree cheerfully. "Feel better?" Phyllis looks absolutely shocked, and it was very shocking, but it worked: finally, Phyllis is quiet. The silence is gratifying, but Bree could have achieved the same results with a slightly less violent tack, maybe a glass of ice water to the face? Flashed her frittatas, maybe? Lynette's reaction shot is truly fine here, a frozen smile paired with wide, "oh my god" eyes. Lynette leaves, and Bree asks Phyllis if she's ready to order, or if she needs a little more time? The scene ends with Phyllis still trying to catch her breath.
Meanwhile, over at the hospital, the hospital where perhaps Felicia is still staying? Does anyone remember Felicia? Rex's doctor is telling the life-insurance man -- Mr. Flannery, I guess? -- that he's having second thoughts about Rex's death: "I've known Rex and Bree for twenty years, and I've never had any reason to suspect they were anything but a happy, loving couple." But that's not true: he knew about the onion incident and he told Rex he thought Bree might be poisoning him, so clearly he did suspect that they might have been less than happy? Also, why would the doctor be bringing his suspicions to the insurance man, not the police? Though maybe the insurance man just happened to be the first person to start asking questions? I don't know. The doctor hands Mr. Flannery the "I forgive you" note Rex wrote for Bree as he was dying. Mr. Flannery reads it and says, "'I forgive you'?" The two of them exchange a long and very dramatic, arched-eyebrow sort of look. Music swells, etc.
Dear Felicia,
Remember how you used to ply the unstable men of Wisteria Lane with banana bread and cookies, all the while gripping a steak knife under the table? Those were fun times, electric times. What happened to you? Are we in a fight? If I said something to upset you, please accept my apology and come back to me. I miss you!
Yours until Ivory soap sinks,
Evany
P.S.: Do you happen to know where Zana is now? How about CreePaul? I haven't seen either of them in ages and I'm starting to wonder if they're gone for good, or what? I don't really care, but you know...just curious!
Bree is out front planting some flowers when George drives up. Bree looks surprised to see him, and asks what he's doing there. "I'm here to kidnap you," he says, and for a second, he seems deadly serious. But then he adds, "I'm going to take you bowling." And the way he says "bowling" is entirely zany and also madcap. Bree is a little thrown and says, weakly, that she doesn't bowl. George (and his smile is HUGE here, the pumpkin smile of the truly unhinged) says that it doesn't have to be bowling; they can go to the movies or get frozen yogurt, whatevskis! Bree thanks him, but declines. He urges her to get out -- says it's been weeks since she's done anything (weeks, days, months, it's all the same on Wisteria Lane!), and that it'll do her good to get out. Bree says she's just not ready yet: "But it was very sweet of you to think of me." The delicate sadness with which she says this reveals just how much she'd be letting her grief out if Mommy Phyllis wasn't eclipsing the whole mourning process. George leans in and gives Bree a hug, and all in all it's a very sweet scene. If only George wasn't criminally insane, they might have been good friends to each other. Meanwhile: Phyllis spies this whole steamy hug scene through the upstairs window.
Carlos is, oops, all black and blue in his cute little orange outfit. I guess Richie wasn't really into Rita's empowerment scheme, especially in its average-sized breast format. Sorry, Carlos! Carlos accuses Gabby of trying to get him killed. Gabby explains that Rita didn't want the $7000 because it was for a boob job, and that Rita's boobs are perfectly fine as they are. "And honestly," Gabby adds, "what [Richie's] doing to her self-esteem is just cruel." Carlos, through swollen, split lips: "Please. You don't care about her self-esteem any more than I do; you just didn't want to give up all that money." Gabby testily tells Carlos that she does think it's silly to force money on someone who doesn't want it. Carlos lays down the law, telling Gabby that she's going to take that $7000 back to Rita and make sure she gets "jugs the size of Texas." Jugs the size of Texas! Ha ha. Funny to hear, and fun to type! They need to start spicing up the text for those typing courses, because typing piquant phrases like "jugs the size of Texas" could inspire a whole new generation to achieve at least 70 WPM. Gabby: "I just realized Rita and I have a lot in common." Carlos: "Please don't tell you me you have low self-esteem, because if I laugh now, I'm going to crack the one good rib I have left." Gabby clarifies that what she shares in common with Rita is that they're "both controlled by their husbands," only Rita and Richie aren't married, remember, Gabby? Gabby goes on: "Which is idiotic because they're behind bars. We should have all the power." Carlos says that all he's trying to do is keep himself out of the morgue. "It's not about that," Gabby says prissily. Carlos crabs that his morphine is wearing off and that he doesn't have time for this. Gabby tells him that she can't go back to Rita empty-handed. Carlos: "Bring me the checkbook and I'll make out a check for some cash." Gabby: "I was thinking that I'd be writing the checks." Carlos tries to protest, but Gabby says, "Careful, Carlos, you're not in a position to argue." I'm not sure about the money situation, here. Maybe I'm missing something, but why can't Carlos hire some third-party money manager and have him write the checks? It seems weird for Carlos to give up his one avenue of maintaining Gabby's loyalty. But whatever. So Gabby's writing the checks now! Which may not matter, really, since as soon as Rita gets her boobs done, Richie is going to want her to get ass implants or whatever. So, one way or another, their money supply going to start to bleed out.
Susan walks out to her car and Edie comes rolling up. And by "rolling," I mean that Edie is actually on roller skates. Also? She is wearing red short-shorts and a matching tube-top. I may be mistaken, but I think she's also holding a matching cap in her hands. And for the finishing touch, she has her hair swept up into two "Chrissy from Three's Company" pigtails. It is, I think, supposed to be a sexy fantasy look, but it is actually 100% batty crackers. Growing up, our town had an insane roller-lady too, only she wore a business suit and spent most of her time clutching parking meters. "So," Edie asks, "how much do you hate me?" Edie says that Karl told her Susan found out about their "dirty little secret": "I feel just awful. I mean, I should have told you I was doing your ex. It would have been the classy thing to do." Susan: "Well, etiquette is a lost art for many people." Edie insists that she never, ever thought anything would happen between Karl and herself, but that Karl just happened to bring Edie to a Mexican restaurant on their first date: "And you know what I get like when I drink tequila. Couple shooters and my bra unhooks itself." Susan says she understands (she is very subdued in the beginning of this scene, almost as though she's making a concerted effort to be an adult), and gets into her car. Edie leans in the window and tells Susan that this is her opportunity for her to let Edie have it: "C'mon. Tell me what a bitch I am. Yeah! For snacking on your leftovers." The whole time she's delivering this, Edie's doing a strange "jogging in place" thing, which, because she's on wheels, looks absolutely nutty. Susan says that Edie's welcome to skate off into the sunset with Karl; Susan doesn't care. Unwilling to let it rest (after all, clearly this is payback for when Susan gloated to Edie about moving in with Mike), Edie says that Karl told her Edie is the best sex he's ever had, "bar none." Oh yes she did! Susan, unable to resist, says she's glad Edie brought it up, because Karl actually told Susan that he's still in love with her. And it's on!
Susan drives off with a smile on her face. Edie laughs, ho ho ho, and then she glares after Susan's car and yanks on her cap. Good lord, she's also wearing bright pink wristbands. Susan stops to let a herd of kids cross the street, and is therefore trapped when Edie comes determinedly power-skating up to the car. "You," Edie says, "are a lying liar." Edie is sure Karl never said he still loved Susan. Also? She's wearing pink poms on her skates. Holy shit. She's like a rolling time machine! Susan informs Edie that Karl asked Susan to get back together with him the day after Julie's birthday, thus prompting the "now-legendary tequila/bra-popping incident." Susan makes to drive off, but now Edie's hanging on to Susan's door, threatening to key the car if Susan leaves. The crossing guard slowly backs away, clearly realizing that she is in the presence of two world-class crazies. They continue to yell back and forth while Susan maintains a nice, steady 2 MPH roll. Finally, she hits the brakes and asks why she would care if Edie dates a man that she despises. Edie gleefully points out that Susan cares because her relationship is over with Mike: "And now that you can't be happy, you don't want anyone else to be happy. Period." It's a good line to skate out on, and Edie takes her exit. Susan doesn't want the conversation to end there, though, so she puts her car in Reverse and, rather than turn her head and look out the back window as my driver's trainer very specifically instructed me to do, reverses using nothing but her feeble rear-view mirror to guide her, and...whoops! Down goes Edie.
Susan answers her door to find Karl. "It was an accident, Karl!" she blusters. "Edie knows it was an accident, right?" Well, Karl says, Edie knows that she could have died: "As it is, she's got a shattered tibia." Susan drops an "oh my god" and asks if Edie got the roses Susan sent. Apparently, Edie did, and the thorns stabbed her. Wouldn't you know it! Karl asks Susan why she told Edie about their "little conversation" (in which he expressed his desire to reunite with Susan). Susan explains that she was just trying to shut up Edie's "sex with Karl" gloating. Karl, in turn, gloats over Susan's jealousy. Susan insists that she's not jealous; it's just that what she and Karl had was something real, what with their being married, and that when Edie tried to put her "tawdry little affair" with Karl on par with that, it made Susan mad. Karl chooses this highly ripe moment to tell Susan that Edie and he are fixing to move in with each other. Susan looks crestfallen: "Just give me a moment. I'm asking god to kill me." Karl: "Look, she's fun, she goes with the flow. At this time in my life, I need that." (Especially after being married to Susan, who I'm guessing would make any man long for a more "go with the flow" woman.) Susan asks if Karl's in love with Edie. Karl: "Would you care if I were?" Susan says she wants Karl to be happy, and she even wants Edie to be happy, sort of, but it's just...Susan wants to be happy first! And, even though Susan is expressing a very petulant and immature emotion here, I do sympathize with her. It's petty, and it's lame, but I kind of like that she's vocalizing the somewhat universal but not typically expressed pain that comes from watching other people move on. Susan pushes Karl to tell her if it's love? With Edie? Karl: "I promise you this much, I've never loved another woman the way that I loved you." Which is one of those awesome declarations that sounds bold and beautiful on the surface, but really isn't all that substantive. I love each kitten, each fluffy cloud, each chocolate cupcake in its own, unique way, which is why I am capable of telling every single one of them that I've never loved another in quite the same way. Not that I ever actually tell them that, of course...I prefer to keep them guessing. (It makes them try harder.) Susan points out that Karl was the one who did the walking. Karl laughs, "Yeah, but look how far I got. I'm just up the street!" He plants a big wet one on Susan's forehead and walks off. Karl is kind of great.
Lynette! I forgot about Lynette. She's home from work, and one of the Ps is waiting for her as she steps out of her car. "Mommy, Mommy!" he screams. (By the way, I know of no kid that actually greets a mother this way. Another fake kid-speak fave? The word "sis.") Little P is fired up because Mr. Mom Tom has found a rat! Lynette walks into the house and it is spotless. Her plan has worked! The rat itself didn't fare quite as well, what with getting smashed to death by Mom Tom and his shovel. "You killed it?" she gasps. Tom: "Well...not with the first blow." Lynette looks totally surprised to hear about the rat's sticky end. Really, Lynette? The potential for rat bloodshed never ever entered your calculations?
Later that night, Lynette takes out the trash and delivers a nice little speech to the rat corpse lying out there in the trash can. She tells it that she's sorry for what happened with the shovel: "Neither of us saw that coming." Honestly? Seriously? Anyway, she thanks the rat for helping her marriage, which she says is a big accomplishment for a rat. How much do live rats go for these days? Ten dollars? Twenty? Either way: cheapest marriage counselor EVER! The rat corpse, which I'm pretty sure was hoping for a different kind of thanks -- maybe something along the lines of a $7000 boob job -- remains sullenly mum.
Betty's sitting a psychiatrist's office, spinning a tale of woe. Apparently, she once had a husband who beat her savagely, but she never did anything about it until her son spilled a soda on the carpet and her husband, Virgil, knocked him onto the floor and started kicking him. Betty ran to protect her child, but she was too late. The psychiatrist asks what happened to the boy, and Betty tells him that her son died. Her delivery here is very sad and very believable. Huh. Anyway, she's been having trouble sleeping lately: she ran across some old baby pictures of her son the week, which has triggered unbearable nightmares: "The last doctor I saw said that I needed to let go of my guilt; then I would start sleeping again. Of course, that is easier said than done. And I am getting...so tired." The doctor readily hands out a perscription for a sleeping aid, saying that he hopes her husband was punished for what he did. "Oh," Betty says, "there was retribution. I made sure of that."
Bree, wearing a smart and, yes, black suit, is fixing to leave the house. Phyllis is busy cleaning the stove. It's hard to imagine that the stove actually needs cleaning. In Bree's house? Phyllis asks where Bree's headed off to, and Bree tells her she's going to the lawyer's to go over some of the details of Rex's will. Then Bree takes a deep breath: "Phyllis, obviously I'm just mortified over slapping you. I've just been in a weird place since Rex's death. That's no excuse...I'm very, very sorry." Phyllis: "No need to apologize. You're family. All is forgiven." Bree looks so relieved, and Phyllis says, "It's been a difficult time for all of us. I totally understand. Now go! You don't want to be late for your...meeting about Rex's will." Phyllis seems amazingly sincere all the way up to the point of encouraging Bree to go, at which point her tone turns vaguely menacing: clearly she thinks she should be a part of any meeting about Rex's will. The second Bree leaves, Phyllis rushes over to the phone and looks at a list. "Pick up tux" is crossed off, and so are "Call florist" and "Betty Applewhite"...I guess this is Bree's funeral to-do list? "Insurance -- Joe Flannery 555-0149" is at the bottom of the list, not yet crossed off. Phyllis dials the number and asks to speak to "someone about the death benefits of Rex Van de Kamp." On the other end, Mr. Flannery looks extremely put out -- I'm guessing that Bree's been calling him non-stop. He tells Phyllis that they've already spoken to Rex's wife, and that they're moving just as quickly as they can. Oh, but that's not why Mommy Phyllis called! Phyllis: "Are you aware that my daughter-in-law has a boyfriend?" Joe: "I'm listening."
MAVO: "Control. It's extraordinary the tactics people employ to obtain it. Some rely on deception": Betty chops up a whole bunch of pills and dropping the dust into a bowl of soup. Good night, sweet Basement Buddy! "While others engage in outright trickery": Lynette sits at her kitchen table, working, while Tom frantically cleans around her. Lynette smiles a secret smile, and somewhere a rat rotates in its grave of garbage. "Then there are those who resort to extortion": Gabby smiles to herself as she writes out a check. "Why do we fight so hard for control?": Bree talks to...George? Is that George? Or is that her lawyer? "Because we know that to lose it is to put our fate in the hands of others": Bree puts her hand on George's (or her lawyer's) shoulder. And what could be more dangerous?" Mr. Flannery sits in a car, quietly taking photos of Bree and her reckless, slutty arm-touching.
WEEK: someone digs up Rex's body!