Okay, just so you know, I'm not going to do that thing where I pretend that I've never seen this show before, because I've been recapping this for weeks now and that's just too much work for me. Lying. I can't recap a lie, people. It'll make my head hurt.
Anyway. We open, as we do every week, on Wisteria Lane. All is well -- at least, it appears to be. Gabrielle drives by Mary Alice's House of Impending Doom as MAVO explains that, as we read this morning's paper, we may come across an article about the unusual day she had last week. We watch as she goes out, and does some work in the garden. MAVO explains that, normally, there's nothing newsworthy about her life: "All that changed last Thursday." MAVO narrates that it all started quite as usual, as we cut to a shot of her serving waffles to the family and going through the rest of her chores and projects and errands: "I spent the day like I spent every other day: quietly polishing the routine of my life until it gleamed with perfection. That's why it was so astonishing when I decided to go to my closet and retrieve a revolver that had never been used." She holds said revolver up to her head, and shoots. I rewatched this on slow motion, because the shot seemed a bit vague as to whether the hand holding the gun was actually Mary Alice's, but it definitely is. Mary Alice falls to the ground. Why, I guess she's dead! What a shocker!
Cut to Mrs. Kravitz tasting a puddle of red liquid. Which is, of course, not Mary Alice's blood, as the editing at first implies, but rather jam. She hears the Shot Heard Round The Lane, and heads right to her pantry. Finding a blender marked "Mary Alice Young," she grabs it and trots over to Mary Alice's to, you know, check shit out. When no one answers her knock at the door, she scampers around back, looks in the window, sees the body, screams, runs back to her own house, and calls 911. And then she takes the label off the blender and puts it back in her pantry. Let no one say that Mrs. Kravitz can't see the bright side of things.
Oh, dear. There are no proper credits in the pilot. Credits are when recappers rest! Sadly, I now recall that MAVO is super-blabby in this episode. I'm quite pleased that I decided to start ignoring her ages ago. She explains that her funeral was on a Monday, and that everyone came back to the house later to pay their respects: "And, as people do in these situations, they brought food," she says, kicking us neatly into an introduction of each housewife.
Lynette, we learn, brought fried chicken and four of her alleged children. She is not wearing a choker. Repeat: THERE IS NO CHOKER ON LYNETTE. She's also chokerless during the flashback in which we learn that she used to be a real corporate mover and shaker. But, in case you missed the memo, she's much more stressed now that she has four bratty kids at home, all of whom appear to have been fathered by the Dark Lord rather than sweet Gay Matt. En route to Mary Alice's, Lynette is forced to take a moment to stop and tell the boys that they really have to behave because she's not looking forward to being humiliated in front of the entire neighborhood. She takes a folded piece of paper out of her bra. "Santa's cell-phone number," she tells them, warning them that she's not afraid to use it. Parallelogram, Pentagram, and Pythagorean appear to buy this, but we all know that they're just waiting to unleash hell.
Gabrielle brought a "spicy paella" to the funeral, because she herself is spicy and Latina and also spicy BECAUSE she is Latina. We learn that she used to be a runway model, despite the fact that she is 5 foot nothing. But the question is, has she come to terms with her snout? We also learn that Carlos works in Mergers and Acquisitions and that he proposed on their third date. He even cried when she accepted! MAVO explains, however, that Gabrielle "soon learned this happened every time he closed a big deal." We also learn that Carlos and Gabrielle bicker a lot. They scamper out of the house and toward Mary Alice's, arguing about how he wants her to tell some dude something about how much her necklace cost, or some such, and she doesn't want to, and he reminds her that she owes him because they recently went to a party where she told the assembled guests that she slept with the entire Yankee outfield. Gabrielle insists that this factoid came up in context. And, in her defense, that is only three people.
KimberBree brought two baskets of homemade muffins to the wake, because she is a perfectionist with a miserable family beaten down by the force of her perfection. Which is ridiculous, since muffins cure everything. She and the family stroll in, and Rex and the kids mope around while KimberBree gives Creepy Paul her sympathies and also the muffins. "Of course, I will need the baskets back once you're done," she chirps. Behind her, Rex's mouth hangs open. Oh, Rex, shut it. You cry when you ejaculate.
Susan and Julie bring mac and cheese. It looks terrible, and I say that as someone who would eat mac and cheese out of a dumpster. Susan, apparently, has a history of unfortunate experiences with mac and cheese: she was eating it when Karl, Her Asshole Ex-Husband, left her for her secretary, and also when he announced that he was divorcing her, a year ago. So she needs a man. And a bra. As the Mayer girls cross the street, Julie wonders why anyone would kill herself. Susan explains that "sometimes people are so unhappy, they think it's the only way they can solve their problems." Julie thinks that Mary Alice seemed happy enough, but Susan tells her that sometimes people seem one way on the outside but are totally different on the inside. "Oh, you mean how Dad's girlfriend is always smiling and saying nice things, but deep down, you know she's a bitch?" Julie chirps. "I don't like that word, Julie. But yeah, that's a great example," Susan says. Heh. They head into the gathering, putting the mac and cheese on the buffet. Julie heads over to talk to the other kids, as Susan joins the Coffee Klatch at the table.
Everyone looks sadly at Mary Alice's empty seat. They miss her, never having been forced to listen to her narrate their lives. As Susan pours the coffee, we flash back to a former Coffee Klatch, in which Susan had to tell her bitch posse about Terrible Karl and his Terrible Affair. "He said -- and you'll love this -- 'it doesn't mean anything, it's just sex,'" she says. All the girls groan. Susan explains that Karl then told her that "most men live lives of quiet desperation." Everyone rolls her eyes. "Please tell me you punched him," Lynette snarls. Susan responds that she asked him what most women lead: "Lives of noisy fulfillment?" They all make a lot of "you go, girl," noises, as though this were a particularly clever comeback, and Susan whines that she can't believe Karl decided to bang his secretary. "I had that woman over for brunch," she says. Also, it's terribly cliché. Gabrielle muses that her grandmother always used to say that an "erect penis doesn't have a conscience." Lynette crabs that even the limb ones aren't that ethical, and Gabrielle cracks a walnut. Heh. Although that's sort of unfair, really. I complain about the menfolk all the time, but I generally find that they are as capable as making ethical sexual decisions as women are. KimberBree announces that this is why she joined the NRA: when Rex started going to all those medical conferences, she explains, she wanted to plant in the back of his mind that he "had a loving wife at home with a loaded Smith and Wesson." Mary Alice makes sympathetic expressions beatifically -- because, you know, dead woman as saint, blah blah blah -- and wonders if Lynette ever thinks Gay Matt is having an affair. "Lynette snorts, "Oh, please. The man's gotten me pregnant three times in four years. I wish he was having sex with someone else." The boards have been doing a lot of math about this and they don't think it's possible, judging from how old her kids appear to be. But...you know, whatever. Lots of babies, in not a lot of time. Also, Lynette, if you don't want all those babies, there are ways to prevent being impregnated. I know! The wonders of the modern age. Lynette asks if Karl is going to break up with the secretary, and Susan snuffles that she doesn't know. She just doesn't know how she's going to survive this. If I may make a suggestion? Listening to "Dear Prudence," as the women appear to be in this instance, is not going to help. I suggest "It's Raining Men" instead. That has seen me through several dark periods. Mary Alice tells her with the Wisdom of the Soon to Be Dead that they all have moments of desperation: "If we can face them head on, that's when we find out just how strong we really are." Mary Alice: patron saint of the pat homily.
KimberBree snaps Susan out of her reverie and tells her that Paul's asked them to help pack up Mary Alice's things. Susan snaps that she's just so angry. Why didn't Mary Alice let them help her? she wonders. Gabrielle reflects that she's sure they would have known if something were wrong with her. Susan -- for once, not the dumb one -- points out that the woman killed herself, so something was obviously happening. Cut to Creepy Paul standing around and looking menacing.
Elsewhere at the party, Mysterious Mike helps himself to Susan's mac and cheese. She throws herself in front of that lactose-enriched bus, explaining that he shouldn't eat it: "I made it. Trust me." He can't believe anyone could possibly screw up mac and cheese, so he takes a bite and, of course, makes a terrible face. Susan throws him an "I told you so" look. He mumbles that it tastes both burned and undercooked. "Yeah, I get that a lot," she tells him, and hands him a napkin to spit it into. He introduces himself, and they shake hands. Susan exposits that she illustrates children's books, and he explains that he just moved in, and that he's a plumber. Or, er, a "plumber." "So if you ever have a clog...or something," he offers. Susan, naturally, twitters and removes the mac and cheese from the table before scampering off, smiling back at him. Julie watches her mother's inept flirting from across the room. Julie, please learn from your mother's mistakes.
Across the party, Lynette is breast-feeding. "Ouch. Ease up, ya little vampire," she says to the poor kid. Mrs. Kravitz sweeps into frame. "Are you aware of what your sons are doing?" she asks. The twins and that random other kid we never see anymore are splashing around in the swimming pool, and they look quite happy about it. All the guests stare. Dudes, it's a funeral and they're little kids. I say, let them swim. Swim, dammit! Swim! But Lynette runs down to the pool and hisses that this is a wake, for Christ's sake. The boys chirps that they prepared by putting their swimsuits on under their clothes before they left the house, and isn't that clever? But Lynette is, per usual, furious. She demands that they get out of the pool. No! Yes. No! Yes. No! So Lynette hands some random dude the baby and wades into the pool in her clothes, without taking her shoes off first. And I know that she sacrificed her footwear so that they could get this shot of her high heels trudging through the water, but no woman would ever ruin her shoes like this. Not to mention the fact that Lynette, in doing this, is really making more of a spectacle of her family than would be created just by letting the kids swim. At any rate, she pulls them out of the drink and turns to Creepy Paul and tells them that they have to leave. And she's real sorry about how his wife is all dead and stuff.
But MAVO doesn't think Lynette should have been so worried about Creepy Paul. "He had other things on his mind," she intones. "Things BELOW THE SURFACE." He stares menacingly at the pool. How not at all mysterious!
After the ads, it is morning on Wisteria Lane. The Scavos scream. Gabrielle does yoga. KimberBree cleans the toilet. Julie kicks a ball into Mike's yard and goes over there to get it. And by "goes over there to get it," I mean, "goes over there to snoop."
Julie reports back to Susan: "His wife died a year ago. He wanted to stay in L.A., but there were too many memories. He's renting for tax purposes, but wants to buy a place real soon." Susan can't believe Julie went over there. Julie explains that she saw Mike and Susan flirting at the wake: "Now that you know he's single, you can ask him out." Susan hems and haws, and Julie finally tells her that she needs to "get back out there." They exchange looks, and Julie gets out the big guns: "Come on. How long's it been since you've had sex?" she asks. Susan glares at her. "Are you mad that I asked you that?" Julie asks. Maybe not mad so much as creeped out, sweetpea. Susan shakes her head. "No, I'm just trying to remember," she says. "I don't want to talk to you about my love life anymore. It weirds me out," she adds. Julie explains that she wouldn't have said anything, but that she heard Karl's girlfriend ask Karl if Susan had dated anyone since the divorce: "And Dad said he doubted it. And then they both laughed." Susan looks appalled. Yes, Karl is a jerkwad. We know.
So Susan heads right over to Mike's, bearing a potted plant and wearing jeans that make her ass look really flat. She explains that she thought she'd bring Mike a house-warming gift. She ostensibly means the plant, but I think she also means her ass. Mike says she's the first to come by, and Susan basks in being the Neil Armstrong of Wisteria Lane for about two minutes, until Edie swings by with a pie and two bouncing bags of saline. MAVO explains, although not in so many words, that Edie was the street whore. "Susan had met the enemy. And she was a slut," says MAVO. Oh, MAVO. Why do you have to be such a hater? Edie explains that she just thought she'd bring Mike some "sausage puttenesca" -- very clever, writers, "sausage of the whore," that's quite funny, yes, yes, well played, so clever and ironic, go get yourself a little something from the commissary on me. Mike says that he'd ask them in, but he's "in the middle of something." Both girls hem and haw and mew and ham, but finally leave. Edie turns, though, and asks Mike if, as a plumber, he could maybe come by later and "take a look at her pipes." Susan looks disgusted. "Bye, Susan," Edie says, all cheery and right in Susan's face, and skips off. MAVO spouts some shit about how, when it comes to men, women don't fight fair. This show has a lot of weird issues with women. It's simultaneously both totally sympathetic to the plights of women and really kinda misogynistic.
Speaking of fighting, over at Casa Unfaithful, Gabrielle is snapping at Carlos that he can't treat her like a child. She doesn't want to go to this business function of his, apparently, because his boss always tries to grab her ass. "I made over $200,000 doing business with him last year," says Carlos. "If he wants to grab your ass, you let him." He stalks out of the house and right past Miguel, who is working on the roses. He yells at poor pretty Miguel about...something gardening-related....and then Miguel hurts his finger on the roses and then Gabrielle storms out and then she sends Miguel inside for a Band-Aid and then she and Carlo bicker some more, this time about how he spends all this money on her and she's so unappreciative and blah blah blah, she finally eventually agrees to go to the aforementioned party, but she will allow no ass-grabbing. Carlos: "See? This is what a marriage is all about. Compromise." He goes.
As soon as he's gone, Gabrielle heads into the house to kiss Miguel's finger and cure him with her vagina. They have sex on the table. He does make some noise about being worried about losing his job over her, but he just can't resist her La Perla!
KimberBree's: the family is having dinner and complaining about all the hard work she's done while they're all just screwing around. "Why can't we ever have normal soup?" Danielle whines. KimberBree informs her that there's nothing abnormal about basil puree. But bratty ungrateful Danielle wants a soup someone has heard of, "like French Onion or navy bean." KimberBree sniffs that Rex is deathly allergic to onions, and that she's not even going to dignify navy bean with a response. Then Andrew starts getting peevish about the osso buco -- which is really hard to make, you unappreciative brats -- and announces that he'd rather have pork and beans. Rex just watches this all unfold. "You'd rather have PORK AND BEANS?" KimberBree asks. "Apologize now. I'm begging you," Danielle hisses. You started it, you crab apple. Wee dickweed Andrew -- who, I am telling you now, will make his future wife's life hell -- wonders if they can ever just have, you know, food. KimberBree stares at him. "Are you doing drugs?" she asks. "What?" he asks. She informs him that he's been "fresh as paint" for the last six months, and he retorts that she's the one that acts like she's running for the Mayor of Stepford. Danielle looks pained, and there is a long silence. Finally, KimberBree asks Rex, as the head of the family, to defend her. "Pass the salt," he says simply in response. Oh, Rex. You are an asshole. You don't ever let your kids best your wife in an argument, even if you do secretly agree with the kid.
The day, Lynette goes to the market with her four screaming kids, and spends the whole time yelling into her cell phone to Gay Matt: she's called him three times, but he hasn't called back, and she hopes he's having fun, but if he doesn't call her back by noon, she and kids and getting on a plane and joining him, and boy, will he be sorry then. She's much too busy threatening him to notice that the twins have run off with a shopping cart and are wreaking havoc in the store. Eventually, she notices that they are missing -- maybe the peace and quiet tipped her off -- and as she looks for them, she runs into a woman she used to work with. Blah blah guilt blah blah mistake, blah blah ego, she tells this woman that being a stay-at-home mom is "the greatest job she's ever had." Proving her point, behind her, one of the twins runs over a little old lady with the cart. ChokerWatch: STILL NO CHOKER!
Casa Unfaithful. Miguel and Gabrielle canoodle. He wonders why she ever married Carlos. Very sadly, Gabrielle tells him that Carlos promised to give her everything she ever wanted. "Did he?" Miguel asks, as Gabrielle lights a cigarette. "Yes," she admits. Miguel wonders why she still isn't happy. She thinks about it and answers, "Turns out I wanted all the wrong things." But does she love Carlos? She admits that she does. Then why is she doing the deed with Miguel? Gabrielle informs him that she doesn't want to wake up one morning with the sudden urge to blow her brains out. And nothing cures suicidal urges like a little underage wang. "Can I have a drag?" Miguel says, gesturing to her cig. Gabrielle tells him that he's much too young to smoke. They make out.
Casa Adorable But Dim. Susan adjusts her boobs in her top and wonders how Julie would feel if she used her child support for plastic surgery. Julie, painting a Trojan horse made of popsicles sticks, advises her mother not to be so nervous: "You're just asking him out to dinner. No big deal!" Susan tries to chat about the Trojan Horse project, and Julie directs her to stop stalling and go, "before Mike figures out he can do better." Susan rolls her eyes. "Remind me why I fought for custody of you?" she asks. "You were using me to hurt Dad," Julie chirps. "Oh, that's right," Susan says, and goes...
....over to Mike's. Where she hems, she haws, she blathers, she yammers, and finally she's about to ask him out when Edie saunters out into the doorway with both a beer and a creepily stretched-out face. She explains that she accidentally made "too much ambrosia," so she brought some over to Mike. So Susan retaliates by asking if he can come over and fix her clog. Oh, SUSAN. Susan! You don't have a clog! What are you doing? And yet, Mike says he'll come over to fix this nonexistent clog. "Now? You have company," she says. "I don't mind," Edie drawls, smiling widely because she knows Susan is a big inept liar. Mike tells her to just give him a mo to get his tools -- tee hee, I said "tool" -- and he'll be right over.
So Susan races across the street and sacrifices Julie's Trojan horse to the God of the Pipes. Not paying attention, of course, to the rampant symbolism: namely, that Mike, like the Trojan Horse, is something of an unexpected gift, and that she might not be super-happy with what she finds inside. This lesson in symbolism was brought to you by Mr. Moran's ninth-grade English class, 1989.
Anyway, Mike comes over and digs the gunk out, and Susan blames Julie for the enormous wad of wood -- tee hee, I said "wood" -- in her pipes. Tee hee. "Kids, you know," she says. From the living room, Julie shoots her mother a dirty look. Susan gives her the old "I'm sorry!!" face.
Cut to the Saddle Ranch, which is actually a bar on Sunset, like I am so sure that KimberBree would go somewhere with bull riding. And yet she has. The entire Van de Kamp family looks crabby until Rex sends the kids off to play videogames, and then only KimberBree looks cranky, while Rex looks beaten. Sad. Downtrodden. Like a man who cries after sex. KimberBree chatters that she knows he thinks she's peevish about having to eat in a restaurant like this, but that she knows they wanted a change, and she's okay with that. "Something fun! I get it!" she says, absentmindedly cleaning her steak knife with her napkin. "You probably will want something healthier tomorrow night," she adds. Rex agrees -- if by "something healthier tomorrow night," you mean "a divorce." He can't live like this, he yelps. KimberBree looks alarmed, but is saved from having to respond to this when the waiter swings by and tells them to go crazy at the salad bar. "I'll go get your salad," KimberBree offers, and takes Rex's plate. Rex's mouth hangs open.
KimberBree stalks to the salad bar in a daze, right past a fascinated-looking Mrs. Kravitz, who immediately bounds out of her chair to follow and harass her. KimberBree loads Rex's plate -- with lettuce, yes, but also with onions -- as Mrs. Kravitz chatters on about nothing in particular. Finally, KimberBree extricates herself from her nosy neighbor and plops the dressing-covered salad in front of her miserable husband. She explains that the ranch looked suspect, so she got him the honey mustard. He just takes a bite. "Are you going to talk about what we said?" he says, through a mouthful of salad. "If you think I'm going to talk about the dissolution of my marriage in a place where the restaurants are marked 'Chicks' and 'Dudes,' you're out of your mind," KimberBree retorts tartly. Rex soon starts wheezing and asks her what's on his plate. "You put onions in my salad," he chokes out and falls out of the booth, taking the table cloth with him. "No, I didn't," KimberBree gasps after him. "Oh, WAIT," she says, as he clongs to the ground.
House of MAVO. Zack gets out of bed and looks out the window. "The sound that awakened my son was something he'd heard only once before," MAVO says, as Zack heads into the back yard in his pajamas. "Many years ago, when he was quite young. But he recognized it instantly." Why, it's Creepy Paul, digging up the now drained pool. Father and son stare at each other. "It was the sound of a family secret," MAVO finishes. Dum dum dum -- oh, whatever.
Casa Ritalin. Gay Matt comes home to several screaming children and one stressed-out wife, who does, however, seem happy enough to see him. She wasn't expecting him for a week, she chirps. Gay Matt says he got her call and though she sounded "frazzled." He kisses her despite the fact that she's got baby food all over her face. "Mmm, peaches," he says. One of the boys wonders -- loudly -- if Gay Matt brought them presents. Gay Matt pulls out a football, and they all scream like little lunatics. He tells them to go outside right now and practice throwing for twenty full minutes. He passes one to Pasteurized, who squeals. "TOUCHDOWN!" screams Gay Matt. I really love Gay Matt
While Palm Reader, Palm Beach, and Palm Springs roll around in the front yard, Gay Matt and Lynette rush into the bedroom, kissing madly. She sighs that she's exhausted and she looks terrible. "Sorry, baby. Gotta have you," he says. She rolls her eyes. "Is it okay if I just lie here?" she asks. "Absolutely," Gay Matt grins, and she smiles back and kisses him. "I love you," she says. "I love you more," he says. Lynette then explains that the doctor took her off the Pill, so Gay Matt has to use a condom. Gay Matt is not wild about the condom: "What's the big deal? Let's risk it." Lynette gives him the look of death. "'Let's RISK IT'?" she squeals. "Yeah," he says. And Lynette then punches him right in the face. Which...ladies, violence is never the answer.
Wilshire General Hospital. Rex can't believe KimberBree tried to kill him. Oh, Rex. You're ever so naïve. She's tried to kill all kinds of people. "Yes, well, I feel badly about that," KimberBree says, and that line is so well delivered, I can't even tell you. She explains that Mrs. Kravitz distracted her and it was all a terrible mistake. "Since when do you make mistakes?" Rex spits, explaining that he's sick of her being so damn perfect all the time: "I'm sick of the bizarre way your hair doesn't move. I'm sick of the way you make the bed in the morning before I've even used the bathroom." In the weariest yet nastiest tone possible, he calls her a "plastic suburban housewife with her pearls and her spatula, who says things like 'we owe the Hendersons a dinner.'" KimberBree looks hurt and perturbed. Rex wonders what happened to the woman he fell in love with. Apparently, the old KimberBree drank milk out of the carton. Amateur. I don't even have milk in the house! Rex needs that woman back: "Not this cold, perfect thing you've become," he says. At this, KimberBree swallows, goes to the bathroom, ostensibly to put water in the flowers, and RIPS OFF HER WIG. No. Sadly, she just cries and cries. And then she pulled herself back together and sails out, perfectly refined.
Casa Unfaithful. Gabrielle trots out of the house, all dolled up, to find Carlos checking the length of the grass. Huh, I forgot this plot even existed. He tells her that he suspects that Miguel might not be doing a very good job. They're going to have to get a real gardener. Gabrielle sputters that it's too dark to tell if the lawn's been properly mowed or not, and hustles him out to the car. I notice that his tie matches her fantastic dress.
Eventually, the Solises get to the party, where Gabrielle bribes a waiter to make sure that her husband has a drink in his hand all night long. Then she speeds home and mows the lawn in her gown. What, you want more? You saw this in the ads, over and over again. I must say, however, that Gabrielle maneuvers her train very well. ["That's what HE said!" -- Wing Chun]
Lawn well mowed, Gabrielle races back to the party, where Carlo is still drinking and working the room. She pulls a bit of grass out of her hair and sighs with relief.
The morning, Carlos walks out and examines the lawn. It is perfect. He shakes his head and heads to the office. Gabrielle, in her yoga hot pants, smiles with relief.
The grocery store. Susan runs into Mrs. Kravitz, who yaps about her upset stomach: she had bad mac and cheese at the wake, but she really needs to be at her best. She's babysitting Edie's son, because Edie's having a gentleman friend over for dinner: "And I think she's planning on entertaining into the wee hours, if you know what I mean." Susan, horrified, just dashes off, leaving her cart behind. How hard up are these girls?
So Susan goes home and freaks out about the Mike/Edie thing to Julie, who basically just tells her to chill. "Maybe they're just having dinner!" she says. Susan gives her a look. "You're right. They're doing it," Julie sighs.
Susan marches over to Edie's, bearing her Pyrex measuring cup and her erect nipples, and knocks and knocks at the door. No one answers, so she trots around to the back yard. "Let's Get It On" wafts out of the house. Susan just lets herself in. "I need to borrow sugar," she says, very very quietly, to no one. To her great disappointment, she finds the living room covered in undergarments and lit candles. Edie is screaming in ecstasy upstairs. Susan sits, disappointed, on the sofa, dropping the Pyrex in disappointment. She looks so sad. She tosses a bra behind her in frustration. It lands on a candle. She eats a piece of chocolate as the curtains go up in flames behind her. Finally she smells the fire, waves at it ineffectually, attempts to put it out by throwing wine on it, beats it with some jeans, and then finally runs out of the house as the alarm goes off. Oh...Susan.
So, the house totally burns down. Edie watches her life go up in flames, as the rest of the neighbors stand and stare. The members of the Coffee Klatch stand together, Susan making a series of really very guilty faces. Lynette explains that the guy Edie was boning got smoke inhalation and got sent to the hospital. Susan groans. She tells them that she just feels really, really bad for Edie. Really bad. But everyone agrees that Edie will get through this. "She'll find a way to survive," Lynette says. "We all do," KimberBree agrees. Well, except for Mary Alice. The girls wander off, and Susan drifts about looking guilty. Eventually, Mike wanders up and asks what happened. Susan is thrilled to see him alive and not in the hospital. He explains that he just got back from the movies. "Edie had a fire, huh?" he asks. Oh, he's a smart one. Susan assures him Edie is fine. "Everything's fine now," she beams. They watch the house burn. Burn like the flames of their love!
Mike then goes home and picks up the phone. "It's me. Nothing yet, but don't worry. I'm definitely getting closer," he says, mysteriously. He reaches into his pants, withdraws his gun, and places it on the table. Why, what? He's not a plumber? No! How can this be?
The day, the girls emerge from Mary Alice's house. They'ee finishing packing up Mary Alice's things, and toast her as a good friend and neighbor. "Wherever you are, I hope you've found peace," Susan says to the air, as they all drink champagne. Gabrielle, digging through a box of Mary Alice's pants, spills that their now dead friend was actually a size eight. Well, no wonder she killed herself. Gabrielle unfurls some clothing, and a lavender envelope falls out. KimberBree opens it. It reads: "I know what you did last summer." Or, "I know what you did. It makes me sick. I'm going to tell." Whichever. All the girls stare at each other. "Oh my God, she got it the day she died," says KimberBree, examining the postmark. ["Miraculously, since the postmark shows the day it was mailed, not the day it arrived." -- Wing Chun] Susan looks perturbed. "Oh, Mary Alice, what did you do?" she asks, as the camera pulls way back and we kick into sprightly music. DUM DUM DUM DUM!