I have a confession to make: I am beginning to think that this show has some problems. It's like cotton candy -- delightful going down, but doesn't stay with you any longer than five minutes. While it's absolutely well-acted and well-scripted, and the production values are brilliant, I don't think it's particularly well-paced or plotted. The Many Mysteries set into motion are unraveling at a glacial pace, and unlike the myriad other shows which have progress with a similar slowness, this show doesn't even pretend to reveal anything more than one meager plot point a week. Even shows which eventually completely imploded under the weight of their own plotting --The X-Files, Twin Peaks, even, some would say, Alias -- made a practice of revealing actual, meaty clues and moving forward each week. You felt like you were going SOMEWHERE, even if that somewhere ended up being up the butt of a cranky genie. I think part of the problem with this show is, of course, that it's mostly confined to Wisteria Lane, which makes it feel like it's not going anywhere -- it literally never does go anywhere. But my real problem with it is that it doesn't stick with me. Twin Peaks stayed with me, freaked me out, confused me, frustrated me. But there was something there. Ditto The X-Files. Sure, that ended up in a total disastrous clusterfuck of an ending, but it was meaty and layered and complex. ("Thanks?" offers my Agent Mulder action figure from his spot on the top of the heater. The top of the heater is like Florida for action figures; it's warm, and that's where they retire. "You're welcome," I tell him. "So, does this mean I get to talk now?" he asks, "because I've got some real theories about this Dana thing. Clearly, she was abducted by aliens! It's all so very obvious!" to him, the Scully rolls her eyes. "Cram it, Spooky," she says.) This show, although it gives endless lip service to seeing beneath the surface, seems to be only surface to me. There's no real there there. I hope I'm proved wrong about this -- there are some things I really enjoy about this show, and I think it is totally chock-full of potential, but I'd like to see some actual real plot development, and soon. I know Charles Pratt and Co. can do it -- I watched Melrose Place. Come on, kids! Let's see some backstabbing! Some man-stealing! Some cocktails in the face! Go to the alien thing, if you have to.
Anyway. You all know where to address the hate mail. We open with a tubby-ish middle-aged dude jogging down the street, as MAVO blah blah blahs about competition. As the Middle-Aged Jogger comes to a corner, he runs up alongside a Buff Young Dude, and struggles mightily to keep up with the younger man. MAVO points out that, on Wisteria Lane, "keeping up with the Jones meant keeping up with Bree Van de Kamp." Yes, because who wouldn't want to be married to a jackass who won't sleep with you even when you trick yourself out in the finest La Perla and mink? MAVO explains that KimberBree had the nicest lawn in the neighborhood, and that it drove Mrs. Kravitz crazy. You know what drives me crazy? Brenda Strong's sing-songy delivery of her voice-over lines. They all sound exactly the same: "high pitched, high-pitched, high-pitched. Lower-pitched, lower-pitched, lower-pitched. Sarcastic question? Knowing commentary." Mix it up, Bren! Anyway, apparently, Mrs. Kravitz goes all out to make her lawn lovely, but, according to MAVO, "the grass was always greener? On the other side? Of the fence?" So, when Middle Aged Jogger drops dead in Mrs. Kravitz's lawn, she sees a wonderful opportunity to even the score. She loads the jogger into her wheelbarrow, trots him over to KimberBree's, dumps him in the hydrangeas, and calls for help.
Cut to the ambulance tearing up KimberBree's carefully tended garden and Mrs. Kravitz looking pleased with herself. Oh, Mrs. Kravitz. KimberBree is totally going to blow your house sky high. Or, at the very least, develop another personality named Betsy, and force you to endure both Betsy's AND KimberBree's Tupperware parties. Which is almost worse.
It turns out that the ladies of Wisteria Lane -- both the Fumbling Foursome and other random women we will never see again -- have a book club. This time, they're reading Madame Bovary. Which is an apt choice since, if I remember it correctly, the book is about a woman who gets bored in her marriage, has a totally disastrous affair, blows all her money, and commits suicide. ["No, you're thinking of Anna Karenina. Psych! They're the same book." -- Wing Chun] As MAVO yada yadas about the way that literature can be ever so absorbing, we flit from housewife to housewife, catching up on all their little plot lines: Lynette is a junkie for Ritalin; Gabrielle is still fucking the Yard Guy -- whoops, I accidentally typed "the Yard Gay," and let me say right now that I am totally in favor of a Yard Gay -- right under her mother-in-law's nose; Rex is still a dipshit; and Susan is still totally pathetic. She actually has "Date With Mike" circled in her datebook, with each day leading up to it crossed out, as though she were in prison. The prison of singledom. Where I am currently doing twenty to life.
Back to the book club, where it becomes abundantly clear that none of our ladies has had time to read the book, what with all the gardener-loving and drug-taking they've been up to. Lynette walks the baby -- who is, apparently, not dead, thank goodness -- around KimberBree's dining-room table and calls Madame Bovary "inspirational," and there are all these raised brows from the other ladies and some blah blah about how the women haven't done their homework, and let me just say right now that I can't imagine there is any way KimberBree wouldn't have finished her book-club book.
Speaking of KimberBree, she quickly invents some excuse to lure the non-Coffee Klatchers into the kitchen. She locks the day players in, and then turns and tells the people in the credits that she couldn't wait to get rid of those other bitches! Sweetpea, they're just behind your French doors. I think they can probably still hear you. Also, way not to raise suspicion. KimberBree, Lynette, and Gabrielle then get the download from Susan on how Troubled Young Zack is all locked up at the Sunny Pastures Home For Kids Who Know Too Much. Please. I am so sure. I can suspend my disbelief long enough to believe that Gabrielle could be a runway model despite being barely taller than a fifth-grader, but I cannot believe Susan didn't call or instant message or race over to tell everyone this news the very instant she got back from Stormy Clouds Center For Children You Want to Shut Up. Especially since all of them are at home all damn week long.
Anyway. Susan reiterates the whole Dana thing. "I figure Dana has something to do with what Mary Alice was trying to hide," Susan finishes. Wow. That is some real fine detecting, Miz Fletcher. Why don't you and Amos come down to my place for chowder week and tell me how you figured that out, because I thought Zack was talking about Special Agent Dana Scully, and how her character was assassinated in the last two seasons of The X-Files. ("Can we please not talk about that?" implores the Agent Scully Action Figure). "So somebody found out Mary Alice's secret...." Lynette says. "And sent the note!" KimberBree says, like this is the secret to cold fusion. Did I suffer a massive brain injury, or didn't we already know that someone figured out Mary Alice's secret -- or she thought they did -- and sent The Note? Didn't we learn that in the pilot? Since The Note said, "I know what you did," and all? Please tell me it didn't take you THIS LONG to figure out that "I know what you did" equals "I know your secret"? (Although, of course, I think The Note is going to end up to have nothing to do with Mary Alice's big fat juicy never-to-be- revealed-until-sweeps secret, but she obviously THOUGHT it did, so that's really the salient point here.) And I thought daytime soaps were bad, with all the "I can't believe my secret love Whitney is pregnant with my half-brother Chad's child, despite the fact that Whitney, my secret love, and Chad, my half-brother, are also half-brother and sister, because my father, Julian Crane, and Whitney's mother, Dr. Eve Russell, were lovers once"- type exposition. "So who the hell is that?" Gabrielle asks. Gabrielle, where have you been? WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO FIND THAT OUT FOR TWO MONTHS! TWO WHOLE MONTHS! THAT'S WHAT YOU'LL ALL BEEN DOING THIS ENTIRE TIME! Jesus. The Bobbsey Twins worked faster than this, and they were in elementary school and thus had to put the detecting on hold for things like spelling bees. This scene has got to be for the purposes of exposition intended for people who are just tuning in, but it serves mostly to make the Foursome look like mental midgets.
Speaking of The Note, Creepy Paul is meeting with Shaft, who continues to be a bad mother-- Sorry. I'll shut my mouth. Shaft tells Paul he's tracked down the makers of the stationery that was used for The Note. Said stationery is sold in stores in twelve cities, including Paul's. And The Note was mailed from the local post office. "Meaning that the blackmailer is probably someone you know," Shaft says, because no blackmailer would ever drive to another town to mail a note like that to throw investigators off the scent. Hasn't Shaft ever watched Law & Order? Or, you know, read Nancy Drew 8: Nancy's Mysterious Letter? On the other hand, isn't one's blackmailer ALWAYS someone one knows? You can't RANDOMLY pick someone to blackmail, because you have to know something about her. It's not like a mugging. So Shaft is wrong on both counts: it MUST be someone Mary Alice knew, but the reason for that has nothing whatsoever to do with the postmark on the envelope. Argh. At any rate, Shaft thinks the blackmailer could be anyone from the milkman to a soccer mom. "Soccer mom?" Creepy Paul asks. Shaft puts on his coat and says, "Mr. Young, sometimes evil drives a mini-van." The men in the DH writers' room all chuckle and congratulate themselves and think about how good that line is going to look on t-shirts. Then Shaft tells a long story to prove his point about evil and the mini-van, all of the details of which he stole from The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom. He then reiterates that, in addition to being a PI, he's also a killer for hire. You know, in case Paul needs someone to get whacked, or something.
Casa Addiction. Gay Matt is totally impressed with Lynette's brand-new drug-induced housekeeping skills and wants her to throw a dinner party for six so that he can pitch an idea to his boss without his irritating co-workers getting all up in his grill. ["Does Gay Matt work at McMahon and Tate? Who makes a business pitch at his own house, in front of his boss's and co-workers' spouses? Shut up, show, and live in the now. Also, if my spouse came up with this ridiculous plan and then expected me to do all the work to pull it off, he'd learn how uncool that was when I took off for a day spa and four movies back to back, leaving him the house to do whatever he pleased in. But my husband never would do any of that because he's not a complete idiot." -- Wing Chun] But Lynette? Lynette doesn't want to. She's so stressed! I am so sick of this plot. Lynette, if you are so fucking unhappy, hire a housekeeper and go back to work even part-time, when Parsley, Potato, and Plantain are in school. Gay Matt is the director of sales or something, and you were clearly top dog somewhere once, so I'm sure you guys can afford help. It's hard for me to feel overly bad for Lynette when she has options she chooses not to exercise. Y'all have money. If you can't keep a nanny, I bet you could at least get a housekeeper. Gay Matt points out that KimberBree does this kind of thing all the time, and Lynette is all, "Excuse me?" and Gay Matt is all, "Never mind, we can totally cancel," and then Lynette gives in and assures him that she can do it. "It's good for your career. I'll pull it off," she says. Oh, Lynette. Don't play the martyr. It's a role as unflattering as your choker. Anyway, Gay Matt is quite grateful and races up the stairs to...I don't know, look at gay porn or whatever...and Lynette goes for her Ritalin. Oh, Lynette. The man gave you an out. You should have taken it. And I'm sure Lynette agrees, because she totally panics when she sees that her Ritalin is all out. Because she wouldn't have noticed that she was running low the last time she popped some. Or like she couldn't call her doctor for a re-up on the prescription. This should so not be a plot point.
Casa Unfaithful. Mama Solis reads Madame Bovary and watches Miguel mow the lawn shirtless. He is shirtless, I mean. Mama Solis is fully clothed. My goodness, it seems that Wisteria Lane is under the same strange weather patterns as Capeside was, because I live in Southern California and it sure is chilly here. So it's probably chilly everywhere. Stupid Gabrielle stands on her balcony and calls Miguel on his cell phone. She so wants to get caught, even though she tells him not to turn around. She wants to meet him at the motel in an hour, but he explains that he already has plans with fellow Abstinence Club member Danielle Van de Kamp. They plan to sit around and not touch each other and talk about Jesus. "That sounds like a date," Gabrielle hisses. She has a real problem with him seeing other girls. Miguel rightly points out that he's got a problem with her, I don't know, being married. He turns and looks up at her standing on the balcony. Why don't they just do it right on the kitchen table while Mama Solis is eating her breakfast? "I guess we'll both have to learn to deal," Miguel snarks, and hangs up on her. Gabrielle petulantly tosses her cell phone on her bed and stomps off to take a bath. Mama Solis, no dummy she, scampers upstairs and snags the phone. She calls Miguel, who sees "Mrs. Solis" on the Caller ID and snaps, "Don't even try to make it up to me by talking dirty." Mama Solis looks pleased with herself and puts the phone back on the bed. Gabrielle, you are an idiot.
High School of the Damned. Principal's office. KimberBree sits there and reads Madame Bovary, while Rex looks miserable. Principal Flutie explains that Andrew shoved a freshman's head into a locker and broke the kid's nose. (And yes, I know it's not literally Principal Flutie, but as far as I'm concerned, until the principal has a name, the principal is a Flutie.) They're thinking expulsion. Rex thinks that's a bit too harsh for "a little roughhousing." KimberBree corrects him that it was "practically assault." Rex yelps that Andrew is just acting out in reaction to his parents' "severe marital problems." KimberBree tosses him a dirty look. "If Andrew is angry about you moving out of the house, perhaps he should shove your head into a locker," she snaps. The Van de Kamps bicker about how much of this is Andrew's fault and how much of it is theirs until Rex bursts out that he's seen a lawyer, and that KimberBree is being served with divorce papers today. KimberBree is stunned: "You went to an attorney?" "And a good one, too," Rex brats. I want to smash him. "Well, he had better be good," KimberBree hisses, "because when I'm finished with you, you won't have a cent to your name." Rex, pathetically, responds, "Bring it on." Oh, Rex. You're not one third of the man Dr. Michael Mancini was, and she almost killed him multiple times. I certainly hope your burial plot is all bought and paid for. The principal cheerfully chirps that she thinks detention will totally be fine.
Susan knocks Madame Bovary off her dressing-room table as she gets ready for her date with Mike. Julie tells her that she's getting too dressed up. Susan knows, but says she wants to look "really sexy." Because men love it when you show up for a first date all kitted out like you're going to the opera when they're taking you to the movies or something. Nothing is sexier than trying too hard. Julie asks if she's got "protection," because she likes being an only child. "Are we finished?" Susan snaps, and pushes the kid out of her room. Julie muses that she always thought she'd have sex for the first time before Susan had it again. "Okay, you can leave now," Susan says, and kicks her out. Her shortie kimono is really cute.
Meanwhile, Mike is having a similar conversation with Bongo while he changes. (Parenthetically, I just can't get behind the Dress Shirt and Blazer on Top, Jeans on the Bottom look on men. It looks to me like they forgot to change one half of their body. Go one way or the other, Mike. Maybe that's a generational thing, though.) Bongo can't believe Mike is having sex before he's gotten to put the moves on the poodle down the street.
A knock at Mike's door! It's some woman who looks young at first, until you really examine her face, and she is a bit wrinkly for what I suspect is her actual age. Sunscreen, my fellow fair-skinned friends. It is your greatest weapon. Anyway, she's all sultry, "Hey Mike," draping herself across his doorjamb. Oh, Plot Contrivance In The Form Of A Sexy Lady, I was wondering when you were going to show up and ruin Susan's life.
Meanwhile, Susan starts coming across the street. In a pleather dress. Pleather. Oh, SUSAN. PLEATHER IS NOT APPROPRIATE FOR A FIRST DATE. I can't say that any louder. ["Girl, pleather is not appropriate for any date." -- Wing Chun] Susan walks past Paul's lawn, where Edie is hanging a For Sale sign. I guess Paul decided the For Sale By Owner thing that he was doing before wasn't working? Or this is a convenient way to go for the plot? I don't know. Anyway, apparently, Edie is a realtor, and all of a sudden she's selling Paul's house. She is also wearing a skirt of Amanda Woodward-esque shortness and I can only hope this leads to an Amanda Woodward-esque reign of terror in which Edie forces her boss to kill himself; causes an employee to fall off the wagon; steals several people's boyfriends; has a steamy affair with a guy who owns a motorcycle shop; and overcomes cancer thanks to the efforts of KimberBree's estranged husband, only to be almost electrocuted when KimberBree discovers her in the hot tub with said husband and throws a lamp in there. Susan saunters over to Edie. "Wow, get a load of you," Edie says. "You look so pretty, I hardly recognized you." Susan giggles that she has a date. Right now. With Mike. "We kissed. FYI," she brats, and scampers over there. Edie merely looks amused. Susan? You're, like, forty. Just because you kissed a guy once does not mean you two are, like, going out. Because if that were true, then I can think of several men who once frequented Maloney's bar in Westwood that I still need to break up with.
Anyway, Susan knocks on Mike's door and he opens it and she adjusts her pleather, and he tells her that he's real sorry, but he has to cancel. He has an unexpected houseguest. Who, right on cue, trips out and introduces herself to Susan as "Kendra." I automatically finish with, "the vampeeeer slayer," in a really bad Is It Irish Or Is She Jamaican?-type accent. Poor Susan looks gobsmacked, per usual. Mike stutters that he knows this looks bad, but that Kendra is just "an old friend." Susan makes all these sad and irritated noises and asks him to explain. Kendra excuses herself to go upstairs to take a shower, and Mike promises to make it up to Susan. "You look amazing," he says as a goodbye, and goes up to find Kendra The Vampire Slayer some towels. Oh, SUSAN. Two things: first of all, you kissed him ONCE. He doesn't really owe you fidelity and explanations yet. Two: he's clearly a fuckwit and he's never going to be around when you really need him to be. Look at your past history with him already! Is he the only man in town? Because I think you deserve someone who puts more effort into being with you rather than a charmer who will act all into you when it's convenient for him but blow you off when it's not, because he KNOWS you will put up with it because you like him so much. I know how disappointing this is, but you need to get some self-respect and stop acting like he's the only viable option in your life because you deserve better. This public service announcement was brought to you by My Own Tragic Real-Life Mistakes.
Susan walks back to her own house with her handbag in front of her face. Heh. Poor stupid Susan. "Hey!" Edie calls. "How was your big date?" Susan explains that Mike had to reschedule. "Oh. Because of the hot girl? With the suitcase? Over there? Gosh, how devastating for you. FYI," Edie chirps. And I never thought I'd say this about Nicolette Sheridan, but: heh. Susan makes her usual sad and put-upon face as she slinks across the street, and we smash into commercial.
When we come back from the ads, Creepy Paul is telling Edie that he wants to sell the house fast, and that he'll do whatever it takes to make that happen. She nods and reapplies her lipstick and tells him that they're going to run into problems with the whole Woman Committed Suicide in the Living Room thing: "Legal crap. And people get really freaked out by suicides. You can't blame them. Hell, I get the willies just standing here." Creepy Paul if there's any way around that. "Off the record? You could say that she shot herself in the living room and then crawled out back to die," Edie chirps. Creepy Paul takes a swig of his scotch, looking like this is not the most awful suggestion he's ever heard. "I'm just saying," Edie points out. She has to go, she says, and takes off without her notebook. Creepy Paul calls after her, then notices some purple stationery poking out of it. He compares it to The Note and makes a thoughtful face. Yes. Because (a) I'm sure that when her house burned to the ground, the one thing she saved was her precious stationery and (b) that stationery is sold all over town! Maybe Mary Alice killed herself because you are SO DUMB, Paul.
Gabrielle is out jogging. She runs into Danielle -- see what I did there? -- and asks if Danielle is still interested in being a model. Because "Project Modeling Academy" has an opening for their summer program and Gabrielle would totally be willing to sponsor her! Danielle squeals that Project Modeling Academy is one of the best schools in the country! Better than Barbizon? NO WAY. Danielle is totally grateful: "I would so love to go to New York!" Gabrielle smiles. "And I would so love to help you get there," she says, and jogs off. Gabrielle is an asshole. But Eva Longoria is great in this role.
While Gabrielle is plotting to dispatch her youthful rival, Lynette is at the park trying to score a hit. She sits to SuperMom Jordana, who is knitting and whose legs won't stop fidgeting, which is a very amusing detail on the part of the actress, who actually, on the whole, knocks this scene out of the park. Lynette explains that she's...er, well, out of stuff. You know. The good stuff. Jordana explains that, unfortunately, she's running low herself. And she needs all her energy. Her sister-in-law and all her kids are going to be in town for a week. Lynette wishes her own sister would visit more often. "Sisters are great," Jordana says robotically. Lynette asks for just three or four more pills, pleading, "I'm really hitting a wall here." "Yeah, the comedown can be a real bitch," Jordana tells her. "I wish I could help." Jordana is kind of awesome. I wish she were on this show more often. Lynette looks, per usual, put-upon and makeupless. "I'm not about to forget about this, Jordana," she finally snarls. "What's that supposed to mean?" Jordana asks. It means that Lynette is not planning on shelling out for any of Jordana's daughters' Girl Scout cookies this year. Now, Lynette, that is just short-sighted. What Ritalin can't help, Samoas CAN. Jordana blinks as Lynette just storms off.
Casa Tearful Ejaculators. KimberBree and Rex tell Danielle -- who is combing her hair the entire time, which is very funny -- and smarmy Andrew that they're breaking it off. Calling it quits. Getting the big D. KimberBree assures the kids that she and Rex don't love them any less. Andrew has one question: "Can I live with Dad?" KimberBree looks very hurt, as Andrew smarms that she knows she and Andrew drive each other crazy. KimberBree quietly asks Danielle what she wants. Danielle just wants her own bathroom. Andrew gives KimberBree this horrible cocky little smile. There's something about him that has a George W. Bush-quality to me, and I'm not sure entirely what it is, but I think it's his tendency to look a wee bit overly pleased with himself. KimberBree just sadly announces that she has a headache and excuses herself. Rex looks like he's trying really hard not to smile. Suck it, Rex.
Kendra the Vampire Slayer and Mike are going over Mike's investigatory progress to date. Apparently, he hasn't gotten much done in the last six weeks. In his defense, he says, he does have three hundred houses to investigate, and that's a lot of work. Kendra: "Dad said last time he saw you, you were ready to quit." Mike assures her that he's changed his mind. Kendra thinks this whole thing is a waste of her father's money: "Mike, here's the thing: Dad can't chase ghosts alone. If you stop, he'll have to admit it's over. Let me have my father back." This actress is trying so hard. And she's not bad. She just needs to dial it down, seriously, like, ONE notch. Mike thinks her father -- whom I assume is the Mysterious Guy From the Park -- will hire someone else if Mike quits. "Not if you tell him there's nothing here to find," she says. Mike can't do that. They both look across the street at Susan, who is rummaging through her garage again. Kendra wonders what happens when Susan finds out he's not the "sweet neighborly plumber." Mike doesn't say anything. "You're lying to her, Mike," Kendra obviouses.
Somehow, the Dana blanket -- which Susan brought home a week ago as a wrapping for Mary Alice's hideous award -- has made its way into the box in her garage that holds her chafing dish. Because that's clearly where she would have decided to put it: "Let's see, where should I put this rag that I got at Paul's garage sale? Throw it away? No. Put it with my dust-rags? No. I know, I'll go out to the garage, rummage through a whole bunch of boxes that I never touch, and use it to wrap my chafing dish, which I haven't used or seen since 1997." Lynette is all blah blah blahing about making her own crab dip, or something. Susan is worried that Lynette is working too hard. Lynette? Maybe you wouldn't need drugs if you asked KimberBree to help you or, I don't know, served a nice cheese platter instead of hand-shucked crabs. As Lynette leaves, Susan begins to put away the blanket, and notices the embroidery. The conversation that follows is like the dumb leading the dumber: Susan tells Lynette that she got the blanket at Paul's garage sale. "Dana....wow. Dana was a baby," Lynette says. And that blanket is, like, thirty years old. We were all babies once, you MORONS.
Down the street, Rex is all about buying his children's love because he scored Andrew a Mustang and Danielle a Burberry bag...to take with her to modeling school in New York! The kids are thrilled -- despite the fact that Burberry is totally 2002. But KimberBree is steamed. She'd like this whole "modeling agency" thing explained. Danielle explains that it is her "new career." As opposed to her old career, which was high school. And Gabrielle is sponsoring her! KimberBree is doing a delicious slow burn, and accuses Rex of trying to buy their children's love. She can't believe he didn't discuss this with her! "I'm sorry, kids, we cannot accept them," she says of the Guilt Gifts. Andrew whines and brats, as Rex tries to explain that it's time to spoil them! With the divorce and stuff! "I said no," KimberBree says. "They're my kids too, and I can give them anything I want," Rex snips back, and shoots KimberBree a satisfied look as the kids drive off, squealing with glee. Dude, she is going to kill you. No. I literally mean it.
Across the street, Gabrielle pulls into her driveway. KimberBree sprints over there and reads her the riot act about offering to sponsor Danielle's modeling career without talking to KimberBree first. Gabrielle chatters that she was just trying to help: "It's her dream...and don't you want her to be happy?" "No," KimberBree says. "And in the future I would appreciate you keeping your ridiculous ideas to yourself." She stomps off. Gabrielle signs, and turns to see that Miguel has heard all of this. He also stomps off -- so much stomping today! -- and chases him into the shed. "You're so jealous of Danielle you try to ship her off to New York?" Miguel asks. Gabrielle squeals that she isn't jealous: "I just don't like to share." Miguel slams his gardening tools around. "Well, you know what? I quit. The yard. Us. Everything," he snaps. Good for you, Migelito. Gabrielle begs him not to be like this, but Miguel can't take it anymore. Gabrielle somehow manages to talk him into screwing her one last time. Tonight. He agrees. Behind the shed, Mama Solis looks thoughtful and eavesdropper-y.
Across town, Pachyderm, Pimento, and Primrose jump in a trampoline. Lynnette tells the New Housewife We've Never Seen Before that she knew this play date was a good idea. "Thank you for suggesting it. Your boys are the only ones I know who could tire out Timmy," Random Woman says. Lynette weaves around to what she really cares about: word on the street is that Random has been medicating Little Timmy. "The pills have been a godsend," Random says. "I bet," Lynette says dryly. Then she excuses herself, goes into Random's bathroom, and steals a whole bunch of them. Not one or two or three. Like, a big huge handful. Lynette, you idiot, you are so going to get caught. If you have to steal, clearly steal one or two pills from multiple people, not twenty from one person! GOD. I have to tell you people everything.
Car of Shaft. He compares the Note to the stationery Paul's brought him. "Well, looks like you've got your blackmailer," Shaft announces. Excuse me? On what evidence? That piece of paper? Doesn't any one else watch Court TV? "Time to bring in the police?" Shaft wonders. Creepy Paul says that's "not an option" for him And he doesn't have a lot of time. Shaft announces that he can totally mess Edie up for five grand and kill her for ten. Dude, that is SO reasonable!
My notes here read: "All of yher kifd dyugg iod on yhr lsen ehrn hre get back." That is too much for me to decipher, and I wrote the thing. I think it means "All of Andrew and Danielle's stuff is on the lawn when they get back home." The kids hop out of the Guiltmobile and ask their mother what's going on. "Oh, I'm throwing you out," KimberBree explains cheerfully. "I've separated your things into two sides. This side is yours, Danielle, and the other one is Andrew's." Andrew snorts that KimberBree's lost her mind, but Danielle wants to know where they're supposed to live. "Darned if I know," KimberBree chirps. "Danielle, everything in the north quadrant of your side is clothes and books and such, and the south side is miscellaneous items." Andrew just brats that he's not giving up his car. "That's a smart idea," says KimberBree, "because you're probably going to have to sleep in it for a while." She tosses him his basketball. She then introduces them to the locksmith, who has changed all the locks on the house. They can get the new keys to the house if and only if they're willing to adhere to KimberBree's rules. And that includes giving back Rex's gifts. Danielle gives in, but Andrew storms off.
Open house at Mary Alice's. Mike and Kendra head over to check it out, Mike explaining that this is one of the houses he hasn't been able to get in to. Susan watches them walk past, and Edie overhears Mike saying that he's going to take Kendra to the Saddle Ranch for drinks. "It's the last place anyone ever saw your sister," he tells her once they're past Edie. Well, yes. The Saddle Ranch is the last place you'd see ME, either. Oh, you mean literally?
Susan wanders up and tells Edie that she's just saying goodbye to Mary Alice's house before someone else moves in. "Oh. That sounds almost plausible," Edie tells her. "We both know why you're here. And the answer is yes, they are having sex." Susan stammers that Mike and Susan are just friends, and Edie tells her that they're going to the Saddle Ranch for cocktails and dancing. "So? Friends can do that," Susan offers weakly. "Oh my God. I just want to slap and shake you," Edie says. And that was when I sort of fell in love with Edie. Susan watches as Mike and his buddy canoodle on the front porch. "Where did you say they were going tonight?" she asks.
Cut to the Saddle Ranch, where we see Mike and Kendra talking in the distance. Edie and Susan suck down the beer as Susan assures Edie that nothing is going on with Mike and his houseguest, and she wants to go home. "It's only been ten minutes. She could be waiting to make her move," Edie points out, and slurps down her brew. "Oh, come on," she adds. "You're not going to beat a girl like that by knocking off early," Edie says. I have to say, the lady has a point. Susan tells her that it's not a competition. Oh, Susan. "The hell it isn't," Edie tells her. Susan tells bids her goodnight. "Suit yourself," Edie retorts. "But for the record, I was rooting for you land him I figured it would be easier for me to steal Mike from you than her. She seems like fun." Susan smiles weakly.
Casa Unfaithful. Gabrielle has cramps, she tells Carlos, and she can't come to this fancy party with him. Mama Solis, in a suspicious act of kindness, tells Carlos that she can escort him, and that Gabrielle should stay home and rest. And Gabrielle buys it. Gabrielle, you are so stupid. "Take good care of Carlos," Gabrielle calls after her mother-in-law. "Oh, I always do," Mama Solis purrs in response. Gabrielle, remember how your mother-in-law killed her husband with her knitting needles? She is totally going to stab you with gardening shears.
Saddle Ranch. Susan comes back from the bathroom. Edie is riding the bull. She takes off her cowboy hat and tosses it at Susan's feet. When Susan stands back up, Mike is standing over her. Susan sputters something to the effect that it's a very small world. "I caught Edie hiding in the back," he says. "No kidding. Is she here?" Susan twitters. Mike gives her a dirty look in a great shot -- Edie, on the bull, is framed between the two of them in the foreground. "She said, 'The jig is up,' and then she went to ride the bull. And she said the two of you came together." Susan: hem haw hem haw hem. Mike asks her if she's been following him. Susan merely giggles that she just came here with Edie, when of course her reaction should have been an offended and deeply aggrieved "how dare you insinuate that I am following you? Why don't you get over yourself!" Susan tells him that she just loves to ride the bull. "Come on, Susan, give me a break," Mike says. Finally, Susan tells Mike that she didn't follow him, and that if she did, it was just because he's been so "secretive about Kendra." Well, he hasn't been that secretive. And, also, it's not really any of Susan's business. I mean, he hasn't even touched her boob yet. Susan repeats that she came to ride the bull, and one of the employees hears this, and of course Susan heads over there to ride the bull, and naturally the bull knocks her out before she even gets on it because Susan can't walk upright without falling into a river or into a brick wall or over a footstool. Oh, Susan.
Oh my God, an Alias promo! I am way more excited about that than I thought I would be. I wish Irina Derevko would move to Wisteria Lane. That, my friends, would really stir shit up.
Motel Burrito. Andrew announces that he wants to live with Rex. Rex says no. He's got some "stuff to work out." Andrew yelps that he is not going back to KimberBree, but Rex tells him that he is, in fact. Andrew storms out. Can no one leave a room normally here?
Andrew then gets behind the wheel of his shiny new car and calls a friend to see if he still has those fake IDs. "I've got to go home and kiss my mother's ass and I am NOT going to do it sober," he yelps. Hey, that's my motto for this Thanksgiving!
Casa Addiction. Lynette arranges tarts while Gay Matt goes into his spiel for the boss man and his wife. See, Gay Matt wants to advertise "Spotless Scrub" someplace women spend the majority of their time. On the side of their shopping carts at the supermarket! Lynette, all strung out and also creatively frustrated, pipes up that she's got an even better idea. The side of dry cleaner bags! "Put a big Spotless Scrub ad between a woman and her cashmere sweater and I guarantee you've got her attention," she explains. Well, sure, unless she's distracted by the realization that she just dry cleaned her cashmere sweater instead of hand washing it, like you're supposed to. Mrs. Boss thinks this is a great idea: "I would notice that. And those dry cleaning bags hang in our closet forever. So it is like constant advertising." Except you're not supposed to leave your clothes in the plastic dry cleaner bags because it's really bad for the fabric. DO NONE OF YOU HOUSEWIVES READ WOMEN'S MAGAZINES? Anyway, the Boss Man thinks this is just a fantastic idea! And then Lynette just sits on the coffee table and chats and chats and chats and chats.
Saddle Ranch. Susan is sad and bruised. "Everyone is looking at me, aren't they?" she asks. "Just the slapstick fans," Mike says. Susan moans: "Why couldn't I have been knocked unconscious?" Kendra brings them all beers, and we have to go through all the intros again. Mike tells Susan that he and Kendra have been friends for years: "She's here on a visit. She's leaving tomorrow. That's it." Kendra swears she has no designs on Mike whatsoever. He leaves, to...I don't know. Advance the plot, I guess. Kendra and Susan apologize to each other. "How long have you two been seeing each other?" Kendra asks. Susan admits that Kendra interrupted their first date. People, I have had more meaningful and serious relationships with celebrity crushes than Susan has had with Mike. Me and Ralph Fiennes? Way hotter. Susan: "Up until then, smoking-hot tension. Sounds pathetic, I know." Oh, Susan. You mean well. But you do need to get out more. Kendra tells her that she thinks it's good to "take it slow." They stare at each other. "You'd be smart to be careful," she adds. "Look, Mike's a wonderful guy, really. But you should ask him why he moved to Wisteria Lane. It's one hell of a story." There is so much staring at the table.
Meanwhile, Shaft enters the bar and heads over to Edie. "Good evening," he says. She invites him to take a seat.
Casa Unfaithful. Miguel and Gabrielle have apparently literally just finished with the sex, despite the fact that Gabrielle is still in her panties, bra, and robe. I'm not a pro or anything, but I think they might be doing it wrong. Miguel sighs that he could get used to this "whole closure thing," and they start going at it again
Outside, Mama Solis pulls up in a cab and tells the driver to wait around the corner. She sneaks into the house and, of course, catches them in flagrante and snaps a photo. Miguel leaps up and chases after her, but Gabrielle calmly accepts her fate. "Well, that's it, then," she says, taking a huge Louis Vuitton bag out of her closet and throwing things into it like a robot.
Miguel chases Mama Solis down the stairs, spewing brilliant lines like, "I'm not kidding, old woman." They tussle, but Mama Solis has clearly taken self-defense at the senior center and she gets the best of the boy. She runs out of the house and into the street...where Andrew Van de Kamp promptly mows her down and flees the scene of the crime.
Gabrielle hears the crash and comes racing out of the house. She tells Miguel to go home immediately: "I'll take care of this. You were never here." So many of these people's plots rely completely on the assumption that none of their neighbors ever look out the window when they hear a ruckus, which I think is a misstep. Personally, I am spying on my neighbors all the time. Just as Miguel goes, the taxi driver comes around the corner. Gabrielle tells him to call 911. She kneels by her nemesis and thinks and thinks and finally takes the camera and hides it in her pocket.
Andrew pulls into the driveway. His car is not that fucked up, but, dude, is he freaked out.
The street. The EMTs swarm over Mama Solis, who, MAVO tells us "teetered dangerously close to the white light."
Meanwhile, at Casa Addiction, Lynette and Gay Matt are fighting about how she upstaged him at dinner. She was just participating in the conversation, she says. He says she made his ideas look bad. "Maybe you need better ideas," she says, and then apologizes. "No, no, we all know that your career was going so much better than mine before we had kids," says Gay Matt as he cleans up the kitchen. "You never let me forget that." He tells Lynette that she has never stopped competing with him. She apologizes again and explains that she's actually competing with the KimberBrees of the world, "with their spotless kitchens and their perfect kids and their fabulous parties where nothing ever goes wrong." Except that one time, where she told all of you that Rex cries when he ejaculates and he stormed out? Maybe I'm crazy, but that seemed pretty bad to me. Anyway, Lynette can't keep up! Gay Matt doesn't expect her to! Lynette says she can't win where she is! It is starting to get to her! Matt then yells that he thought she threw an AMAZING dinner party and that he was THRILLED and that he has no idea how she pulled it all together: "And whether you believe it or not, everyone who knows you thinks that you are a great wife and mother. Especially me." Aw, Gay Matt! Lynette softens and thanks him. "What's wrong with your eyes?" he asks abruptly. She stammers that she's just tired, but he wants to look. She snaps that she's fine, and is saved when the ambulances come tearing down the street for Mama Solis. She suggests that they go see what happened.
Down the street, Gabrielle sits sadly on her porch. Lynette comes running up, and KimberBree asks her to take care of Gabrielle, because she has to run home for a moment.
At Casa Divorce, Andrew is standing in the kitchen and crying. "Andrew?" she asks. "Mama?" he yelps. KimberBree gasps when she notices how tore up he is. She immediately gets on the phone: "Rex, you need to come home. Something's happened and we need you." Danielle reaches out and takes her brother's hand.
At the Saddle Ranch, Kendra and Mike leave Susan, who reapplies her ice pack. Shaft and Edie drink to each other's health...or something.
On Wisteria Lane, Mama Solis is hauled off to the hospital.
At Casa Addiction, Lynette stares at herself in the mirror, all Jessie Spano -- so excited, so excited, so scared.
Over at Casa Divorce, Rex pulls Andrew's car into the driveway. He and KimberBree look around the street nervously and shut the garage door on themselves and the evidence.
And week: SOMEONE DIES!