By Evany
Previously: oh you know, everybody's rotten and no one can be trusted. Also, Gabby is totally pregnant.
MAVO: "Edie Britt's favorite moment of every day was her arrival at the construction site of her new home, because she knew what was about to happen. Her sudden appearance was always sure to generate a few appreciative glances, a few lascivious looks, and some downright ogling." MAVO calls it exactly like she sees it: Edie pulls up to the construction and does indeed get glances, looks, and ogles. "Sadly for Edie, the one man she wanted most to notice her," as across the way Mike comes out to pick up the paper, "paid her no attention at all." Edie waves, but Mike doesn't see her, and Edie lowers her waving arm in sad, sad disappointment. Huh. Edie doesn't really strike me as the pining sort. But if you say so, MA. "Yes, Edie needed attention to feel good about herself. And she was determined to get it."
Edie -- wearing a shirt so small that it would reveal half of the bra underneath it even if it weren't absolutely see-through -- pulls her convertible up to the construction site. A goofy construction worker hems and haws and pants and then finally manages to ask her out. Edie: "Oh honey, you are so far out of your league that you're playing a completely different sport." Ouch. Edie steals a box of doughnuts and walks them over to Mike's, leaving a very crushed-looking goofy construction worker in her wake.
As she climbs Mike's steps, we get a blinding eyeful of Edie's cleavage, which is looking positively Benny Hill-ish in magnitude. Seriously, for the duration of this scene, whenever Edie speaks, imagine her head perched atop two huddled bald men. Mike opens the door wearing a faded tee. "Nice ensemble," Edie says, though she pronounces it the French way, "ahn sahm." I'm not so sure what is so noteworthy about Mike's outfit -- it's not sloppy enough to deserve sarcasm, nor tidy enough to deserve a compliment -- but okay. "You busy?" Mike overreacts weirdly with a laughing no, oh no. Edie tells him that she bought her workingmen some fresh doughnuts (lies!), and that there was a surplus and would Mike maybe want to...? And then out from underneath Mike's arm pops Susan, wearing nothing but her bra and panties (Cute! Pink! Matching!) and a shorty robe. "Susan!" Edie says, understandably surprised. "Well, what..." Edie stutters. "Mike and I got back together!" Susan says brightly. Edie, recovering fast: "Super!" Susan: "I knew you'd be happy for us." Susan wonders what Edie is doing there. Edie: "Free doughnuts. You want 'em or not." Susan suggests that Mike go put them on a plate, yelling after him to save her one with sprinkles. She's smiling giddily in this scene, and understandably so: based on what I just saw of her itsy bitsy body, Susan hasn't eaten a doughnut since 1983, so clearly this is going to be a big, dear-diary kind of day for her.
The second Mike is out of range, the smile cracks off Susan's face. Susan: "I cannot believe you are still coming on to him." Edie: "You said you two were finished. You thought he was a murderer." Susan: "And that was your cue to come over and flirt? You wasted your time. And your doughnuts." Edie, hissing: "Not if you choke on them." Edie walks off, and Susan tells Mike that she's going to run home to get some milk to go with those doughnuts. Mike says it's a shame Susan has to keep crossing over to her house. "Well, I can't have doughnuts and juice," says Susan. "It's unnatural." "No," Mike clarifies, "I mean we should move in together." Susan's face explodes into fireworks of glee. Mike asks her what she has to say, and she kisses him and says "ooh" and "umm," and then "hold that thought," then she runs after Edie, who's driving away in her convertible. "Edie, Edie!" she yells. "Stop!" Edie asks just what is it now? Grumpy, grumpy! Susan says that she wants to apologize for gloating back there with the doughnuts. Edie thanks Susan -- pretty sincerely, I think -- saying that it's very big of Susan to apologize. Susan: "And on a completely unrelated topic, Mike and I are moving in together. See ya!" And then she skips and hoots back up to Mike's. Huh, that was kind of mean, Susan. Edie does a "wow" sort of look and drives off.
MAVO: "Yes, Edie needed the attention of men to feel good about herself." Edie pulls up to the construction site. "Hey Cyrus!" she yells to the goofy construction worker. Does he have plans for lunch, she wonders? He does not. MAVO: "And even she was amazed how far she was willing to go to get it." "Ellsburg Hotel. Half an hour. Welcome to the majors!" And she drives away, leaving a very stoked looking construction worker in her wake. Roll the credits!
MAVO: "Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Mullens were finally leaving Wisteria Lane." A older couple I don't recall ever seeing marches out of a house with a "for sale" sign plunged into its front lawn. "In the past year, their street had played host to arson, violence, blackmail, and murder." The Mullens look decidedly harassed, as though they expect a drunken youth to run them over with his brand-new car, or a man to jump out and bash their heads in with a blender. "Fearing they too would be infected by this moral decay, the Mullens felt it was time to say goodbye. Strangely enough, none of their neighbors even noticed they were moving out." As they get into the kind of generic large, blue, and boxy American car favored by nervous parents, we see why the neighborhood is so distracted: a shirtless hot male torso enters the frame, looming large and in charge. The Mullens pulls away, and Gabby comes out of her house to offer Justin, who is mowing the lawn, a bottle of water. Justin declines sullenly. Gabby asks how his roommate is doing, and Justin laughs like "what do you care" and says, "He's hanging in there," no thanks to Gabby -- who, by the way, is wearing a turquoise halter jog bra and fitted black running pants, as if she were anticipating some sort of aerobic workout. Perhaps the selfless act of bringing someone else water is indeed a heart-rate-raising strain for the likes of Gabrielle? She tries to explain the situation with Gardener John while keeping things as vague as possible, saying how she recently had to deliver John some...upsetting news. "Yeah, no kidding," Justin scoffs. Gabby is all, "Excuse me?" Justin: "Where do you get off telling John he's not good enough to raise that child? That kid could be his." Gabby scolds that theirs is a complicated situation. The situation, however, seems pretty clear to Justin: "You're an unfeeling bitch!" Gabby: Slap! Cut to Carlos, watching the whole scene from inside, with a face that is all question marks. Gabby stomps inside, slamming the door behind her. "Why'd you hit the lawn boy?" Carlos says. Gabby, clearly surprised by the sudden appearance of Carlos, quickly recovers: "Well, if you saw what he did to our begonias, you'd slap him, too." And up the stairs she goes.
Lynette is walking into Tom's office, carrying a half-flat of grocery-store cake, the kind with the inch-thick Crisco frosting. ["My favourite! Seriously, it is. Loves me some icing." -- Wing Chun] "Welcome back Dugan," it reads. Lynette is wearing a pretty sundress and a light dusting of makeup -- all in all, a good showing. Tom gives a surprised "Hey Lynette," and asks what she's doing there. Apparently, Dugan's back in the office today, recovered from his heart attack, and Lynette just, you know, wanted to do something special for him. Such as bring him a Crisco-frosting welcome-back cake. "Uh huh," says Tom, "and this wouldn't have anything to do with you checking up on me and Annabel." Lynette tries to play dumb, but the facts do not lie: yesterday, she brought Tom pictures of the kids; the day before, soup. Tom: "Lynette, honey? It's got to stop." Lynette tells Tom a couple times how she does not fear Annabel. Then who should sweep by but Annabel, looking very office-sexy in rolled-back sleeves and a pencil skirt. "Ha, speak of the devil," Lynette says. "And I mean that." Wait a minute, I thought that last week Lynette and Tom had gotten past the Annabel issue, what with their empowering Nighttime Necessities outfits. But now we're right back to Lynette being paranoid and clingy? Sigh.
Lynette and her cake follow Annabel into the lunchroom. Annabel comments that Lynette's becoming a regular fixture around the office. Lynette sticks to her story: she's there because she wanted to do something nice for Dugan. Annabel: "I suppose filling his blood stream with butterfat might be considered nice." Lynette: "Actually, it's fruit-juice-sweetened. Can I cut you? [Big pause] A piece?" From the other room we hear boss Peterson gathering the troops. Apparently, Dugan had a relapse last night and he isn't coming back after all. And since they're officially down a man, everyone has to step up. Peterson doles out some of Dugan's accounts to people in the office, and he gives Annabel the lead on the "Traveler's Hotel chain." She leaves for Hawaii in three days. Annabel insists that she can't handle Traveler's all by herself, especially if they're "moving into print." I've always thought businesses typically started out with print advertising and then, as they began making more money, to television, but maybe the Hawaiian Traveler's Hotel heretofore limited itself to web promotion? Skywriting? Peterson agrees, and allows Annabel to pick someone to take with her. Because it's not like they're a man down or anything -- now's the perfect time to put two people on a one-person job. And Annabel? Picks Tom. Surprise. Lynette -- who's been bustling around her cake this whole time-- sort of leans toward Annabel, cake knife in hand, and Tom, without even turning his head, senses her menacing form and puts his hand up to restrain her. Annabel gives them both a "take that" smile.
Welcome to Mini-Golf World! Bree is gloating to George: she's beaten him at "bridge and Mahjong and Hearts," and this is his last chance to redeem himself. If Bree was justifying her friendship with George as her one way to do "cultural" things, miniature golf is maybe a stretch, but my heart is bursting with love for her off-the-shoulder drape-neck top, so I'll go along with it. As George tries to make his shot, Bree tiptoes her finger up his back, Bree whispers "Miss it, miss it, miss it" in his ear, Bree stands to him and puts her arm around his waist, and Bree generally does everything she can to engorge his penis with blood. On cue, George's face goes all "uh oh" and his toes curl inward and his hands grip his putter tighter. In the background, a vaudevillian oboe of concern "wooh"s. George stands there, and stands there, and stands there in his putting crouch. Bree tries to hurry him along, because now a family is behind them, waiting for their turn at the windmill. Bree tries to jostle George along, but when she touches his arm, he yanks it back, still maintaining his crouch. Finally, Bree understands. "George?" she whispers, and then in a surprisingly normal voice, she says, "Do you have an erection?" George apologies. Bree: "What on earth...?" George: "You were blowing on my ear!" Bree: "I was teasing you." George: "Exactly!" Bree: "You have got to get rid of it. There are children present!" George wonders how Bree thinks he should do that, considering "imagine you're in the middle of a miniature golf course with a family waiting for you to finish with your hole" should be an erection-killer in and of itself. Bree suggests that he think of something unpleasant, "like famine, or disease or...hoboes." Ha!
Later, Bree and George (the latter sans erection) are leaving the mini-golf course. George is explaining that there are things men just can't control, but Bree is having none of it: "I kept this friendship going because I thought Rex's dislike of you was paranoid, but you had feelings for me all along! God, this is just such a betrayal!" George: "Come on! Bree! The only thing I am guilty of is loving you in silence." Bree reminds George that he shouldn't be doing even that, since she's married. "To a selfish, two-faced liar who betrayed you with a hooker," George clarifies. But this only infuriates Bree further, seeing as she told George that stuff in confidence and doesn't appreciate having it thrown back in her face. George: "So, you're ending our friendship, after everything I've done for you?" Bree is understandably confused by this reference to George's tampering with Rex's meds. "Nothing, it didn't mean anything," George backpedals. Bree admits that she does love George, but only as a friend, and she wishes his feelings for her were similarly chaste, but since obviously they aren't (she pauses here, casting what I believe is an askance peek at his crotch), then this is goodbye.
MAVO: "Later that day, Edie Britt witnessed something disturbing -- something she was determined to put a stop to." Edie peers out the window, watching Mike unload some boxes over at Susan's house; Susan is out there marking him all over with her "mine, mine, mine" scent. More importantly, Edie is wearing the cutest red dress ever -- a fitted smash of sheath with a white bow and contrast stitching. We pull back to see that it's poker day, and all the Desperates are there -- everyone but Susan. Gabby, who is eating ice cream (did you hear, GABBY'S PREGNANT!), asks where Susan is, and Lynette says she's going to be a little late because Mike's moving some of his things over to her house. Bree: "Already? Wow, good for her." Lynette agrees: "It's nice to see Susan so happy again." Edie lies that she too is happy for Susan. But perhaps Susan and Mike are moving a little fast? "I mean, two days ago she was thinking he was a murderer, and now she's moving in with him?" Okay, stop. It's only been two days since Mike and Susan got back together? What the hee haw is the rush? I'm sorry, running across the street for milk every once in awhile is a small price to pay for letting yourself enjoy the electric "getting to know you" phase in the peace and quiet of your own space. And where is Julie in all this? Susan isn't the most traditional mother, but you'd think she'd at least talk to her daughter before she said yes to Mike. Not that I think she needs Julie's permission, but she might want to provide the very barest, slimmest hint of rational consideration as an example for her daughter? Oh, Susan! Around a mouthful of ice cream Gabby, who is pregnant, explains that Mike's actually not a murderer; it turns out it was self defense. "Of course there was the gunshot wound," Edie says pensively. Lynette: "That's right. Did he ever explain that?" No, he did not. Bree: "And I know guns, and that wound was not self-inflicted." Edie: "And what about Mrs. Huber's blood-stained jewelry?" Lynette: "Yeah, that didn't walk into Mike's garage by itself." Gabby: "Maybe this is a mistake," because if there's one thing Gabby's learned -- possibly the only thing -- it's that men can't be trusted. Edie wonders if what the ladies are saying is that they should put a stop to this? One by one, they all agree that it might not be a bad idea to sit Susan down for a chat. Oh, expertly played, Edie.
Meanwhile, in Susan's garage, Susan is initiating an intervention of her own. "We need to talk," she says to Mike. Apparently, when she was packing up his stuff in his bedroom, she found a box of bullets. She sympathizes with him about Deirdre, and she knows that he wants to find out who killed her: "But if we're going to move in with each other, we can't have this stuff hanging over us. You've got to get rid of it, all of it -- the file, the map, the gun." Mike needs to leave it to the (crooked, crooked) police, who are, after all, professionals. And just like that, Mike agrees. Methinks he protests not nearly enough. Susan, too, is surprised by how very easy that was. "Maybe after lunch," she ventures, "we can talk about your leather beanbag chair." Mike laughs, and Susan goes into the house. But then, what is this Mike spies? Paul, dropping off a box at Felicia's house? Mike's jaw clenches with suspicion.
Later, Felicia and Zana go through Paul's box together. Zana is reading a letter out loud: "'I realize now that I treated you badly. I'm the one who needs help, not you. So I have to go away for a while. In the meantime, Mrs. Tilman will look out for you.'" Here we get an intense close-up of Felicia grasping Zana's hand. Don't get me wrong, I love Felicia, but there's something kind of "point for me on this dolly where she touched you" about the way she grasps him here. "I don't consider it a burden," Felicia tells Zana, which feels a little out of the blue, like when someone says, "I don't think you're fat at all," and you're all, "Fat? Who said anything about fat, I was just wondering what kind of cake to...oh." Zana continues reading the letter, which explains that inside the box are some things to comfort Zana in CreePaul's absence -- most specifically a mitt for Zana to use to practice his curve ball. Zana, clearly upset, stands up, stuttering that he doesn't understand: why didn't CreePaul come and see him before he left? Zana rummages through the box, and then suddenly starts yelling. "He thinks I can take comfort in this junk? I hate baseball! You'd think he would know that!" He throws the some stuff around, looking supremely crazy, and stomps out of the room. Felicia picks up a photo of MA from the floor and tsks sadly. Then she reaches for the mitt, gives a "hmm" sort of look, and slips the glove on her hand, thereby unearthing -- what's this? A note from CreePaul. "I didn't leave you," the note reads. "Meet me at the baseball field. Thursday at midnight." Felicia smiles the smile of someone forming an evil plan, and crumples the note into her fist.
Meanwhile, over at the Edie-manufactured intervention, Gabby peeks out the window from behind a curtain, and then whispers that Susan's coming. "Okay, guys, interventions are never pretty, so stay strong," Edie coaches, "because she's probably going to cry." Susan thinks she's there for a cooking lesson, which is why she's wearing an apron and carrying two shopping bags stuffed with whisks and ladles and oven mitts. They're all over at Bree's house, which is without one iota of a doubt stocked with all those things already, but okay. Susan is surprised to find everyone there; she didn't realize this was going to be a group activity. "Well, the more the merrier," she says, "as long as nobody makes fun of my lousy crepes." Susan is bubbling over with happiness in this scene. Everyone laughs nervously, and finally Susan notices that something is up. "How come I'm the only one," she says in a little baby voice, "wearing an apron?"
Cut to everyone sitting around the table, intervention-style. Lynette knows it looks like they're trying to gang up on her, etc., and Edie explains that none of them wanted to do this (which gets a nice understated little "yeah right" look from Susan). Susan takes a deep breath and tells them that, although she appreciates what they're trying to do: "I'm not going to change my mind. In my life I've been hurt a lot, Karl and uh...well, it's just taught me to be cynical and expect the absolute worst from people, and I don't want to live like that anymore, and when Mike asked me to move in with him, I was just happy, just ridiculously happy, and I still am. And I want to go with that feeling. I love him, I just love him. So I'm going to expect the best from Mike and I know he's going to deliver that in return." As she gives this very relatable and believable and even likeable speech, violins swell gently in the background and the Desperates all look very moved. At the end, they grab her hands and agree that she's totally right and Susan sighs and coos with the happiness and amazingness of it all. "This is the worst intervention I've ever been to," Edie says. Wheee!
Lynette is at lunch with an ex-co-worker and, in a shocking nod to the fact that she actually is a stay-at-home-mother, the baby girl P is with them, cooing in a high chair. Lynette, it appears, is in full-throttle bad-idea mode: she has heard that her old company is hiring, and for a second the woman thinks Lynette is looking for her old job back and gets very excited. But no, the job is for Lynette's husband. Disappointment floods the woman's face. Lynette launches in to the hard sell: "Tom's ideas are spectacular" (like that brilliant side-of-shopping-cart Spotless Scrub campaign pitch?), "he's passionate about his work, his visual instincts are off the chart," of course neglecting to add the most compelling reason to hire Tom: it would get him away from his attractive ex-girlfriend co-worker. "Is he," the woman interrupts, "as good as you?" This gives Lynette pause, but then she explains that Tom is apples, and she is oranges. The woman, however, doesn't need apples; she needs someone like Lynette, "someone cutthroat, ruthless." Lynette, not exactly flattered, thanks the woman for making her sound like a shark. And yet a shark is what they need! Happily, Lynette just so happens to know of a shark -- a "very pretty shark."
Over at the Van De Kamps', George is sitting across the street in his car, watching Bree and Rex get into their car and drive away. And then, all of a sudden, he's inside the house. As an observant someone pointed out on the boards, you wouldn't imagine the Van De Kamp house being such easy pickings, what with Bree's NRA membership and all, but sure, George's interests are myriad, and apparently they include both a love of bonsai and a little B&E. George is switching Rex's pills, filling the bottle with pills from an envelope of what I'm guessing are the pills that Rex should have been taking all along. George is covering his tracks! Very smart. he goes through some drawers until he finds Bree's underthings. He selects a matching bra and panty set, along with a pair of thigh-high stockings, and lays them out on the bed in a pattern that more or less approximates the female form. He takes out a camera and, smiling an entirely repulsive smile, snaps a picture. , he goes through their closet and unearths Rex's cardboard box of cuffs and codpiece and riding crop. I can't imagine Bree putting up with a funky cardboard box like that: surely she'd insist on a nice, stylish box with, say, a lock? ["At the very least, a handsome faux wood caddy from Restoration Hardware." -- Wing Chun] And, for the second time tonight, we see the smile of someone hatching an evil, evil plan.
Rex and Bree are at the doctor's office, where Rex's doctor is telling him he is calling in another doctor to consult on Rex's case. The doctor gets paged and leaves. Bree puts on a brave face and tells Rex that she has a feeling he's going to be just fine. Rex is very depressed, though. Apparently Lee Craig, his doctor, has the biggest ego ever, and the only time he'd ever call someone else in is when he's completely stumped. Which means that Rex is screwed. Bree tries again to comfort him, but he erupts: "Dammit, Bree, don't you see what's going on here? I could die!" Bree informs Rex that so could she -- why, tomorrow she could get run over by a car -- the point of which eludes Rex. Bree: "All I'm saying is we're both going to die eventually," faint violin again, "and in the time we have left, whether it's two days or two decades, I think that we should be nice to each other." Rex agrees, and the scene ends abruptly.
Mike rings Felicia's doorbell, looking for CreePaul, whom he spotted dropping off that box. Felicia: "If I did know where Mr. Young was, why would I tell you?" Mike tries to reassure her that, despite what the police suspect, Mike didn't kill Felicia's sister. Felicia: "And you think Paul did?" Mike hems and haws, but Felicia tells him that he has to admit it's a neat theory, adding, "Care for a snack?"
Cut to Mike sitting at the table, a plate of what I believe is Felicia's ba-magical banana bread before him, as he thumbs through Mrs. Huber's journal. "So it's not such a stretch," Felicia says. "It's no wonder if Paul killed Martha for blackmailing them." Mike wonders why Felicia hasn't shown the journal to the police. As do I! Turns out they don't have the death penalty in whatever state it is that Wisteria Lane can be found, and Felicia very much wants whomever is responsible for her sister's death to do more than live in the lap of prison luxury for the rest of his days. Does Mike support the death penalty? Felicia wonders. As a matter of fact he does. And perhaps Mike would be interested in knowing exactly where Paul is going to be on Thursday evening?
MAVO: "That afternoon, while retrieving her mail..." What afternoon? What day is this? How old am I? I feel like I've aged ten years since this episode began, and it's only half over. In any case, nice mail-fetching fuchsia tube-top with rhinestone-encrusted cleavage buckle, Gabby! "...Gabrielle was surprised to finally learn the truth behind her pregnancy." She sorts through the mail, until something of major interest catches her eye and she drops the rest of the mail to the ground. "Very surprised."
Inside, Carlos is eating cereal and wondering if Gabby wants to go online and look at strollers. But no, Gabby's bag is packed. "I just wanted to say goodbye," she says in aRomper Room voice, "because I'm leaving you." Apparently, the mail contained a pesky health-insurance claim that revealed that someone had ordered a year's worth of birth control pills, and that the order was placed after Mama Solis's coma-inducing car accident, meaning that not only was Carlos the one and only person who could have done the tampering, but he wasn't even man enough to admit that he did so. Gabby stomps out, and Carlos runs after her and grabs her arm. "Ah-ah!" Gabby yells. "[I'm] pregnant, Caveman, remember?" Carlos drops her arms and she gets into her Spyder. Carlos demands to know where she's going, and does she not recall that he's going to jail? Tomorrow? Gabby: "I know, that's why I only packed one bag." She reverses out the driveway with a screech. Carlos yells, "What about the baby? This baby needs its father!" and the like. Gabby stops the car to Carlos and says with a sneer, "Oh, Carlos, whoever said you were the father?" Then she peels out. And with that, something small but very important snaps in Carlos's brain. Unfortunately, at just that very moment, Edie pulls up in her convertible and hops out, leaving her engine running, to put a "sold" sign on the Mullens house. (Remember that? Way back when this episode was bouncing-new and Mr. and Mrs. Mullens were exiting Dodge and I still had all my teeth?) And in a flash, Carlos is behind the wheel. Edie only has enough time to lean in and grab her purse (demonstrating more presence of mind than I think is strictly believable) before Carlos peels out. "Damn felon!" Edie yells after him. Just as I finish asking, "Hey, what about Carlos's house-arrest anklet?," we see two cops (who, incidentally, look almost like twins -- two pale, pale, sunblock-thirsty cops) sitting in a cop car as the news of a suspect in violation of his house arrest comes over the radio.
Justin is in his robe with cute bedhead, eating a sandwich, which he sniffs first before eating it -- a lovely little detail that speaks volumes about the bachelor conditions he and Gardener John enjoy. There's a knock on the door: Gabby, wanting to know if John is there. Justin: "If I say no, are you going to slap me again?" But this is no time for joking, Gabby has just left her husband! Justin looks a great deal like Brad Pitt in this scene.
Outside, Carlos pulls up across the street, and he sees Gabby come out with Justin who, still in his robe, gives Gabby a big hug before she gets back into her car and drives off. Justin is just about to get back together with his sandwich when there's another knock at the door. He opens it, and who should be standing there but Carlos and his teeny snapped brain. And before Justin gets a chance to say anything, Carlos pounds him in the face, and then proceeds to kick and punch him. "You think just because you mow my lawn you can pound my wife?" Carlos demands, which makes very little sense; I don't think many people confuse lawn privileges with sex privileges. But obviously Carlos isn't thinking straight -- in fact, he's truly unhinged and scary in this scene. Luckily, the police arrive and peel Carlos off Justin, who still has not said a word.
Annabel is in Peterson's office, clearly getting some good news. As soon as she's done, Tom comes over to ask her for the juice. Annabel has had a crazy day: first the people from Mitchell and Kerns (Lynette's old company) called to offer her a job, and then Peterson countered by making Annabel VP! You know, Dugan's job? The job Tom had briefly, before Lynette managed to get it taken away? Tom goes stomping into Peterson's office, demanding he be told just what the hell is going on. Well, they just couldn't lose Annabel -- not since they were so short-handed. "Well, guess what, you lose me!" Tom shouts. "'Cause I quit!" Peterson tries to calm Tom down, but Tom will not be calmed. When they passed him over the first time, he took it like a "good soldier," but since Dugan's heart attack, he's already been doing the job; then Peterson goes and hands it to Annabel? Tom: "You make crappy decisions on a daily basis, Dan, I gotta tell you, but this one? This is the stupidest." Tom, already way too far to turn back now, gets out the flamethrower and starts really torching that bridge, telling his boss that he's been running the company into the ground since the day he got there. Peterson: "All right, Scavo, you want to know why I gave it to Annabel -- why she got the nod instead of you? It was Lynette." Peterson tells Tom how Lynette begged Peterson's wife to get him to kill the promotion, claiming that the extra traveling was going to hurt their family. Tom, with sad music swelling: "She did that?" Peterson, nodding: "And now I feel like a chump for helping you guys out. I guess it was another one of my crappy decisions. Have your desk cleaned out by tonight." Bye bye, Tom.
The police are questioning Carlos, wanting to know what he has against this kid. In the background, Justin is in a neck brace, lying on a gurney. Carlos says it's between him and Justin, and Carlos's wife. "Is that what this is about?" the cop asks Justin kind of aggressively. "You doing his wife?" The way the cop says it makes it seems as though he thinks such an offense deserves a beating. "No," Justin says. "I'm gay." Carlos: "This is not happening again." Cop: "What do you mean, 'again'?" Carlos collapses back onto the couch and asks for a lawyer.
Bree is grocery shopping. And so is George! Bree, icily: "Why are you shopping here? You live on the other side of town." George: "My friend had an operation. I'm buying her some things." Which, as calculated, makes Bree feel guilty and also warms her iciness. George confesses that he actually has to tell her something. And then he drops the bomb: "You need to tell Rex to be more discreet when it comes to discussing your love life." He pretends to be unwilling to say anything more, which of course is out of the question, since Bree is both confused and upset and now intensely curious. George tries rolling his shopping cart away, but Bree calls after him, and a smile of victory flits across his face. With fake reluctance, George stops his cart and tells Bree that while at the hospital, visiting his "friend," he overheard some doctors talking about Rex and his preference for S&M. And the way he says "S&M," both very seriously and also dorky, is almost funny -- à la Jane Fonda in 9 to 5 telling her ex-husband that yes she's totally into M&Ms -- if it weren't just so dastardly. Bree, of course, looks absolutely crushed. George seals the deal: "Apparently he has a box of...toys? And he gets you to do very inappropriate things?" George says in an innocently unsure voice, like "what is this thing called 'box of toys'? We do not have this on my planet. We only have our love of photographing stolen underwear. And the security tapes we and watch at home, at night, alone." George goes on to insist that he never would have said anything, but something about hearing those hospital men laughing about Bree, well...he just couldn't remain mum. I very much wonder what happened to George as a child to twist him so fundamentally. Anyway, Bree is crushed, destroyed, devastated. Mission? Accomplished.
Oh right, Susan. Mike arrives with more boxes, prompting a festival of Frenching from Susan. "That's your answer to everything these days," says Mike. She laughs and wonders what they should do for dinner. Unfortunately, Mike can't make dinner re: an emergency broken pipe. Oh, okay, so it's Thursday, and Mike's going to go paddle CreePaul down at the baseball diamond. Susan tells Mike that she'll keep it warm for him. Mike repeats that he's going to be too late for dinner. "I wasn't talking about dinner," Susan replies. Flirt! Mike laughs and turns to go into the house. Susan slides some empty boxes out of the cab of Mike's truck. Wait, why is he bringing empty boxes to Susan's house? Isn't he moving in? Shouldn't he be bringing full boxes over? Anyway, who cares, because Susan finds Mrs. Huber's diary! I'm very much surprised that Felicia let it out of her clutches, unless she's trying to frame Mike? But, right, Susan finds Mrs. Huber's diary! And, of course, when Mike comes along, asking if Susan needs any help with those heavy empty boxes, she hides the diary between two boxes and shoos Mike off to go take care of his "plumbing emergency" (which, by the way, is my new euphemism for any type of gastro-intestinal disruption). As Mike gets into his truck, Susan shoots his retreating form a sad, searching look. So much for Susan's newfound unshakable trust. How long did that last, six hours? Cue ominous fluting!
Later that night, Julie and Susan sit in their car, watching Mike's house. Julie: "Mom, stalking? Are we really doing this? You just made such a huge deal to your friends about how much you trust [Mike] now." But that was before Susan found Mrs. Huber's journal! You see, Julie, trust is only something you have until something -- anything -- comes along to make you question it. Julie wonders what's in the journal, and Susan says, "It's not about what's in it; it's that he had it at all." Meaning Susan hasn't even bothered to read it. Even though she is a colossal snoop and the journal of a murdered woman neighbor is surely of no small interest. Then again, she managed to leave Mike's tell-all letter unsealed, so apparently she is capable of random acts of restraint. I don't see why she can't join forces with Mike: I could get behind them as a team of bumbling PIs whose investigations keep getting derailed by his accidental shootings and her endless naked pratfalls and their endless need to stop everything and start making out. Julie: "Mom, if you don't trust him, why are you moving in with him?" Exactly. Sweet Julie, you are a burning ray of reason, especially in comparison to your mother. Susan: "I don't have time to explain adult relationships to you. Oh! Duck down!" Mike is getting into his car.
Cut to Julie and Susan on the road. Julie thinks Susan's lost him, but Susan insists that Mike's just six cars ahead; if they get any closer, he'll see them. Julie points out that they can't see him either, and maybe Susan isn't so good at the art of tailing? Susan: "Oh yeah, when your father was cheating on me, I used to follow him all the time. I know my stuff." Susan? Shh! Your daughter can totally hear you! The truck turns off the road, and Susan follows it into a deserted park. Someone gets out of a car and slides into the passenger seat of the truck. Susan decides to go over there and find out what's what. Of course, she yanks open the truck door and...it isn't Mike! It's just some guy in the middle of a tryst with an ample-busted woman who's already stripped down to her bra. Wow, they sure do work fast! Susan runs off, and the woman in the bra asks the man if that was his wife. "If that was my wife," he says, "would I be here with you?" I think he's implying that Susan is more attractive than his date, which is a truly chivalrous thought, but maybe he's saying he just likes random, impulsive, paranoid women such as Susan. And is that so wrong?
Meanwhile, at the hall of justice, Gabby is looking at a police sketch that is a dead ringer for Carlos. "They're charging you for a hate crime?" she asks, incredulous. Carlos asks her if she remembers how their cable guy was attacked. Gabby -- wearing a silver leather space blazer which I kind of like but which is maybe an odd choice for visiting someone in jail -- nods that, yes, she remembers. Well, Carlos confesses, that was him. Gabby sits there, staring. Carlos: "I thought you were cheating with him!" Gabby: "With our gay cable guy?" But Carlos didn't know the guy was gay! He didn't know Justin was either! That Carlos, he really does let his fists do the thinking. Carlos: "Now the cops think I'm some kind of serial gay basher." Gabby: "Well, you sort of are." Ha! Carlos yells that Gabby provoked him: "You pretended to have an affair just to punish me." Gabby -- clearly amazed by the windfall of that "pretended" -- stutters that, well, of course, yes, pretending! She was only pretending! Carlos tells Gabby that he needs her to lie again -- tell the cops that she was, indeed, having an affair, but that Carlos just beat up the wrong guy(s). Oh sweet irony! But you know something, Gabby is not going to lie for Carlos! Carlos: "Gabby, if this charge sticks, I get sent away for eight years." Gabby, not at all impressed, counters with the fact that, thanks to his little stunt with her birth-control pills, she's lost her freedom for the eighteen years. And she walks on out of there. Wow, a silver space blazer, black micro-mini, and patchwork stack-heeled boots. Gabby is looking kind of nuts.
And back to Susan. "Okay, time I won't bring my daughter to stalk my boyfriend. It was a slight error in judgment." But Julie isn't listening to Susan's way, way, way overdue apology, she's reading the diary instead. Julie: "Did you say you read this?" Susan: "Yeah, part of it, why?" Julie: "Mrs. Huber was blackmailing Zach's mom." Hmmmmmmm.
Meanwhile, over at the late-night baseball-diamond rendezvous, CreePaul is standing there, sighing and checking his watch, when suddenly out of the dark Mike comes flying, taking a page from Carlos's "fist-forward" playbook and dropping CreePaul with one punch.
Bree is brooding in the window seat by her bed. Rex notices that she's awake and asks her what she's thinking about. "You really want to know?" Bree asks in the lost robot voice of the day she couldn't decide what to wear. Rex: "Bree, I'm not feeling too hot right now, so just tell me. What's up?" Bree: "I was thinking that the biggest mistake of my entire life was agreeing to marry you." Rex: "Let me guess, I've done something wrong." Bree, angry now: "Forcing me to share in your depraved pastime wasn't bad enough, you had to share my humiliation with your co-workers?" It's weird to me that Bree takes George at face value when there are actually other people who know about Rex's love of M&M and who could have also started the rumor...evil Andrew perhaps? Or the minister, for that matter. But I guess it just goes to show how weakened her marriage that she's so ready to believe a story about Rex's betrayal. Rex is completely confused. Bree: "Everybody's talking about our sex life -- every sordid little detail, right down to that box of perversions you keep in the closet." Rex gets out of bed, more confused than ever -- and upset, too, as I'm sure it isn't exactly pleasant for him to discover that his secret is out. He asks who told her this, and Bree hesitates just a hair before insisting that it doesn't matter. Rex: "It does matter because I never said anything!" Bree: "Well, then, how do people know? Because we both know that I wouldn't say anything." Unless, of course, you're hosting a gay-intervention sausage dinner. Rex asks why he would say anything, and Bree thinks maybe he was bragging, or maybe he subconsciously wanted to hurt her. Man, that George knew what he was doing when he came up with this fib, holy shit! "Well, congratulations, because I am officially destroyed," Bree says and sinks onto the bed, her head in her hands.
And then Rex has a heart attack. Bree laughs and accuses Rex of not actually having a heart attack. Rex tells her in a firm, calm voice that actually, yes, he is having a heart attack, and she needs to bring him to the hospital. Now. And for a second it seems as though this moves her. She hands him his robe and tells him to go downstairs and wait for her, and that she'll be right down. It isn't readily apparent why she doesn't just go with him right then and there, or why she doesn't call 911, but I think at first Bree has every intention of hustling on out of the house.
Cut to Rex sitting on the stairs, clearly in a very bad way. Danielle finds him there and asks him what he's doing. Oh, just waiting for Bree to take him to the emergency room regarding the heart attack he's currently experiencing. Danielle: "Oh my god, where is she?" Rex: "That's a good question." Danielle runs back upstairs and yells at Bree, "Daddy says he's having a heart attack." Bree is wearing a suit and her hair is pulled back neatly. She's lovingly, expertly, slowwwwly making the bed. "I know," she says brightly. "I'm going to take him to the hospital." Danielle wonders when, exactly, and Bree informs her that it will have to wait until Bree finishes making the bed: "I never leave the house with an unmade bed. You know that." Bree puts the last pillow in place, smoothes the bed cover, and, finally, says, "There, now we can go." There's been some speculation on the boards about whether Bree's orderly little brain has just snapped in this scene, but I think it's her evil streak taking over. She believes that Rex has injured her in a big way, and now he's going to suffer and possibly even die for what he's done. Cookie?
And now for the MAVO wrap-up. "Nothing is forever," she reminds us. Tom clears out his desk. "And a time comes when we all must say goodbye to the world we knew." Carlos sits in a prison cell, looking at a photo of himself with Gabby during happier times. "Goodbye to everything we had taken for granted." Bree looks on as Rex is wheeled away on a gurney at the hospital. "Goodbye to those we thought would never abandon us." A moving van pulls up in front of the Mullens house. "And when these changes finally do occur -- when the familiar has departed and the unfamiliar has taken its place --" Alfre Woodard and a man get out of the van, look around with a tinge of worry in their eyes, and walk into the house "-- all any of us can do is say hello and welcome." Scary Poltergeist-ish music tinkles, and I can't help but wonder if Alfre has brought her own secrets with her to Wisteria Lane. At least I hope she has, because all of Wisteria Lane's current secrets are getting a little shopworn. Do we know why Mary Angela killed herself? I really can't remember...it's been so long since I cared.