Could I Leave You?

Gabby and Carlos go back inside, and TG Sleaze chatters about how things are going to work the day of the actual birth. Meanwhile, the dirty witch goes in for some chips and guacamole. She pops a loaded chip it in her mouth, and then, with full mouth, she smiles wide at Carlos. In slow motion, we see her guacamole-smeared pie hole smack open and closed, and then her horrible tongue grinds out and licks more guac off the chip. It's somehow very much like porn, while at the same time, the very polar opposite of porn. Carlos, who's watching the display in horror (mentally Photoshopping the woman's face, with its green-paste worm-hole of a mouth, atop their adopted bouncing baby's body), starts to squirm in his seat. Gabby looks at him knowingly, and MAVO reminds us again of what a "demanding shopper" Gabby is.

Later and outside, Gabby puts the woman into the TG Sleaze's car, and then slaps the roof of the car twice, like a jaded cop. "Sorry," she says through the window, though clearly she isn't at all. MAVO commends Gabby for being so savvy, seeing as this is one item that "can't be returned." (Though so many grown men try!) And while I know that Gabby and Carlos probably think they're rejecting her, the dirty witch is probably is hugely relieved, since clearly the Solises don't have what it takes to be good, loving, "no matter what"-type parents, which was her one requirement. And...roll the FULL CREDIT SEQUENCE!

When we come back, we see dirty Deanna getting rolled into the hospital on a gurney. MAVO talks us through it: it's the very day, and Deanna has gone in to premature labor. In fact, she's gearing up to deliver a baby that is destined to be a "incredibly attractive baby boy."

Five hours later, we feast our eyes on Deanna's "newborn" baby in the very act of emerging from betwixt Deanna's pearly gates (and yet there's zero gore and that baby's six months if he's a day, yay television).

, we're treated to a super-gross shot of the obstetrician clipping the rubbery and disgusting umbilical cord, like it's the grand opening of some kind of macabre mall. MAVO uses this opportunity to segue into...

Cut to Gabby pouring a tall, tall glass of milk. Ooh! I'm very supportive of the topical crossovers this week (even though I'm having trouble imagining Gabby chugging milk by the glassful). Carlos is on the phone. Apparently, Serpent Tongue Libby has passed on the Solises as parents because she's big racist and doesn't want her baby going to Mexicans. Gabby: "WHAT! That's discrimination! That's illegal! We can have her arrested!" Carlos, with a sigh: "It's her baby; she can do whatever the hell she wants to." But Gabby isn't going to take this lying down: "No! You don't just toss people aside because of the color of their skin." Carlos: "We tossed those birth mothers aside because of their appearance." Nice! But that's different. Gabby: "I've read the constitution, and it doesn't protect ugly people." Carlos thinks they should just move on, but Gabby's wind is UP: "I want that woman's baby, and I'm going to get it." Her strategy? She's going to show Libby their tax records: "I have a feeling that once she sees how much money we have, I have a hunch we're going to look a whole lot whiter." Aww! I think I remember a similar "Mommy v. Would-be Mommy" scene in March of the Penguins!

Speaking of Mommy v. Mommy, it's confrontation time down at the dairy. Lynette approaches the topic of Veronica's breastfeeding issue as delicately as possible, starting with some polite comments about what a big, big boy Donovan is. But things turn uncomfortable fast. Veronica asks Lynette what she's driving at, and Lynette is forced to confess that the people around the office are a little thrown by the fact that her son is still breastfeeding at the age of five. At which point Veronica steps up to an invisible podium and starts lecturing Lynette about how breast milk boosts a kid's immune system, and that some third-world cultures breastfeed their babies until the age of six. Lynette, going for jokey-friendly: "Yeah, well, in the third world they don't have juice boxes." But Veronica's not laughing. She tells Lynette that it's up to Donovan to decide. Lynette says that baby birds need to be nudged out of the nest. Veronica counters that the practice has been linked to promoting intelligence in children, adding, "Maybe if you'd weaned your kids a bit later, they'd be more civilized." Lynette, not at all smiling now: "Ouch." Veronica: "I will not be judged by you or anyone else, and if people don't like my breastfeeding, they can talk to my lawyer."

Ron, Susan, and Karl are having a yuk-fest of a dinner together. Karl is telling some hilarious story about their divorce. Ron is eating it up, and Susan is smiling indulgently. Ron and Karl get up to do the dishes, but Ron leans in for some nuzzle-time with Susan first; Karl glances back and clearly he does not at all like what he sees. In the kitchen, Karl notices Mike drive up at his house across the street. And a look of evil Grinch genius spreads across Karl's face. He opens the cupboard under the sink and loosens a pipe until water starts to spray. Then he closes the doors and busies himself with something in the refrigerator. Ron finally comes in with the plates and notices the pool of water. Karl yells at Ron that there's a plumber living across the street by the name of "Delfino," and Ron goes trotting off to fetch him. (For some reason, I would have thought a budding surgeon would be innately good enough with his hands to want to try to fix the thing himself, but maybe his hands are too precious a commodity?)

Susan comes rolling in (she's still in a wheelchair, FYI), and asks where Ron went. Karl indicates that Ron's gone over to Mike's house. As Susan's face twists in horror, Karl does an excellent impression of someone suddenly aware of making a terrible faux pas. Crazy Susan frantically rolls herself out the front door, and then she rolls herself awkwardly down her front stairs. I might have gotten out of the chair at that point? But not crazy, crazy Susan. Across the street, Mike is handily inviting Ron to forego the "Mr. Delfino" and call him simply "Mike." A suddenly suspicious Ron asks Mike how long he's known Susan, and Mike volunteers that, actually, they used to date. Wow, Karl, nicely played! Back across the street, Susan tries to ride her wheelchair off the curb, and the jolt knocks her clear out of her chair. Ah, the slapstick stylings of the medically infirm! Ron -- who is one angry little doctor at this point -- goes steaming on over to prone Susan, yelling, "Liar!" Susan, who's just managed to struggle to her feet, grabs Ron's shirt and tells him she can explain. But he brushes past her, heading for his car, and she falls down again. Mike, who saw the exchange (which, from his point of view, looked like a shove from Ron), races over and grabs Ron, who is leaning over to try to help Susan up. Ron tries to explain to Mike that Susan's fall was an accident, but Mike didn't see it that way. The two men yell back and forth, and there's even a slight fit of fisticuffs and some awkward fighting version of The Running Man. Meanwhile, sneaky Karl is watching the whole thing through Susan's window, while gleefully eating pie! Ah, Karl, you crazy puppet master. My hat is off to you. Ron gets in his car while yelling at Susan that she's clearly still in love with Mike. Susan faintly begs Ron not to leave, but he drives off anyway. Susan rolls a sad little roll in the direction of Ron's retreating car, and then wheels back around and yells at Mike for scaring away her boyfriend, who wasn't actually hurting her, by the way. Susan wheels off, and Mike sort of stands there looking dazed. And so it goes: another street dump for Susan!

Down at the strip club, Libby is sitting in front of the stage, yelling instructions at a new stripper: "The pole is your friend. Push your boobs up against it." But the nascent stripper can't, regarding the newness of her breasts. Libby: "Well, do something, Cecile. I'm losing my wood down here." Wow. So in walks Gabby, and before you go thinking, "Oh yeah, Gabby is totally going to get up there and school these ladies some moves," don't get your hopes up. I know I did, and I'm still a little sullen about it. The stripper with the newly inserted boobs tells Gabby that her outfit is "kicking." Gabby, archly directing her reply to Libby: "I clean up well for a wetback, don't I?" Libby gives her the once-over, and then together, they go over to a table. Libby sort of half-heartedly explains that she's "not some kind of racist"; she's just looking out for her baby, and why settle for "middle-class Mexicans" when she can just as easily get "rich white folks." Gabby asks what it's going to take, and Libby looks at Gabby's diamond necklace, and then looks away, back, away, back. Gabby gets the hint and takes it off, handing it over to Libby. They do some bargaining: Gabby tells Libby that she and Carlos can expose Libby to lots of nice things, and after about three seconds, Libby says, "Okay." Gabby: "Just like that?" Pretty much! Though, as Libby points out, they probably shouldn't tell TG Sleazy about the arrangement, because then they'll have to "deal with percentages." Gabby, warmly: "I've always hated math." They shake hands, and it's one of those terribly unsatisfying lady-style handshakes, a sort of over-under half-strength bird thing (personally, I always just call a do-over when I'm subjected to one of those). Gabby goes to leave, but then she turns back. At last, she's caught on to what's going on here: "You never gave a crap that we're Mexican, did you?" Libby admits that she didn't, and that she thought that the Solises would be a tad more motivated to spread the wealth if they had a taste of rejection. Gabby: "Well, you're a lot smarter than I thought." Libby: "I'm smarter than everybody thinks." Mark those words, everybody!

Lynette's working away at her desk when Donovan the past, present, and future breast man comes in and says those terrible, terrible words: "I'm thirsty." And for a second I, like many people on the boards, thought for sure that he was going to make a grab for Lynette's biscuits. But no, he just asks what it is that she's drinking. And Lynette is all, what...this? This carton of delicious chocolate milk? A light bulb flashes in Lynette's shifty little brain, and she leads Donovan down the hall and lets him finish up her carton of milk. (Yes, literally!)

Bree's at McMacy's (really!), and she's having a late lunch and, duh, a glass of wine at the little fancy lunch counter in the middle of the store. The waiter comes over and asks her if she'd like more wine, but she sadly overshares that she doesn't have time for more boozing because she still has to find a cocktail dress for a charity event before the store closes. But...what's this? Bree spies Andrew and Justin paying for something at the counter just over yonder, and marches over and asks what's going on here, seeing as Andrew (a) is supposed to be trapped at home per the parameters of his grounding, and (b) has no money to go shopping with in the first place. Andrew flashes Bree her credit card, which he apparently lifted from her purse earlier. Bree grabs him by the elbow and starts marching him away, telling him that she's going to tell the judge all about this, and that it isn't going to help his case for Project Emancipation, no not at all. But then Andrew drops this little bomb: if she doesn't set him free, he's going to tell the judge and everyone that she abused him sexually, and that, while they might not all believe him, they'll always wonder. Yikes, Andrew just doesn't give a DAMN. Bree is understandably crushed by this announcement. And really what's worse: the lie itself, or the fact that her son is capable of it? Either way you slice it, it's very, very bad. Justin doesn't look all too pleased about his boyfriend's monster-like traits, either. Andrew struts off, and Justin reluctantly follows, but turns back and gives Bree a searching sort of look. Is he just silently trying to apologize for Andrew's actions? Or does that look imply some kind of future sympathetic teaming of Bree and Justin? Hmm. Completely shattered, Bree heads back over to the little chi-chi wine bar and takes the waiter up on his drink offer, instructing him to go ahead and leave the whole bottle.

Cut to Bree, lying sprawled on the floor of a dressing room. She's got a pretty emerald green dress on, and there's an empty wine bottle beside her. It's night, and she's totally alone in the store. I'm having some trouble imagining how this scene came into being. Like, how did she even get from the little restaurant island to the dressing rooms? Did she walk through the store, grabbing dresses and slugging wine from the bottle? That would be...embarrassing. And, also, I'm pretty sure the staff checks the rooms before they lock up. But let's just say that Bree is a very crafty drunk, and maybe she hid somewhere ingenious while all the usual failsafes played out, and then she made her way over to the dressing room for a "nap." So okay, Bree wakes up, and she's on the floor of a dressing room. She gets up and staggers out onto the main floor, which is completely dark. And wow, they sure did a nice job with making her look subtly terrible here, especially with the never-before-seen bags under her eyes. (Which makes the crazy dirty witch scenario at the beginning of the episode all the more irritating.) Bree, panicked now, runs over and bangs on the security bars that have been stretched across the front doors. And commercial!

When we return, Bree has changed out of the dress and back into her street clothes. She eyes the accordion-style stretch bars, which are clasped closed with a strange spring-lock. If only she had a leverage-making device of some sort. She walks over to a mannequin and stares it down. And...

...Bree has the mannequin's plastic arm in her hands, and she's using it to wedge the bars open wide enough to let her squeeze through. I'm not sure what she's going to do when she gets past the gates and has to contend with the glass doors themselves, which are almost surely rigged up with some kind of alarm? We never find out, though, because just when she's halfway through the bars, the plastic arm breaks and the gate snaps closed. Bree's trapped! Huh, I wonder why she didn't just sleep it off in the dressing room and then sneak out in the morning? That might have been easier.

Cut to the phone ringing in some guy's bedroom. Who the hell...oh right! Hempy. God, was that this same episode? Though it seems like decades since we first met him, I'm happy to report that Hempy still appears to have all his teeth. Actually, he looks pretty good, or at least his naked, naked chest does. Oh, and of course, it's the caged bird Bree on the other end of the phone, calling for help.

Hempy arrives at McMacy's, a security guard in tow. The security guard is totally tickled by the situation, and he self-snaps a cell-pic of himself grinning to Bree, much to her chagrin.

Later, in Hempy's car, Bree spills the whole story about Andrew's threats. Hempy, totally amazed: "Your son threatened you with repressed memories. Oh my god. He is seriously twisted. I gotta meet this kid." Bree, disgusted: "You sound like you're impressed." Hempy admits that he is, and that it "sounds like [Bree's] definitely raising an alpha male." Despite herself, Bree laughs weakly, but then she snaps, "I'm raising a monster, is what I'm raising. It's no wonder I drink." Realizing what she just said, she tries to back out of it by insisting that it doesn't necessarily mean that she has a problem. Hempy very nicely points out that passing out and getting trapped in a store might be construed as problematic. Bree fiercely stands her ground, claiming that this night was an "unusual situation." Hempy wisely says nothing; he just kind of looks at her sympathetically instead. And it does the trick. Bree crumbles, and in a very sad monologue, she tells Hempy that she wishes he could have met her when Rex was still alive, back when she was a much better Bree. She thinks Hempy might have liked her then. He really nicely tells her that he likes her fine now. Bree, so, so sadly: "Really? Because I don't." Aw.

Back at home, Danielle gets dropped off by a carload of friends. She walks in and calls out, but it appears as though no one is home. No one except...CALEB! Danielle finds him waiting for her in her room, and she's clearly totally freaked out. He stands and holds out a sparkly (stolen?) brooch. "Happy birthday," he says. Creepy Danielle tells him that he has to go home because if her "mom knew [he was] here, she'd freak." Caleb immediately starts getting all yell-y about why Danielle doesn't want to wear the pin, and then he kind of lunges toward her to, I guess, help her put it on? Danielle, who is understandably totally scared now, slaps the pin out of Caleb's hand and yells, "No! Didn't you hear me, you freak? Leave!" Uh oh. I know you're scared, Danielle, and I realize you might not know all of Caleb's story. And yet? Calling him a freak just goes against all that movies and television have taught us about how not to speak to potentially obsessive murderers. Caleb glares at her, and then he walks out. Good night, Danielle!

Veronica's weeping in her office when Lynette comes in to see what's wrong. Veronica tells her that everyone in the office can stand down; Donovan doesn't want her milk anymore. Lynette: "Already?" Oops! But then she saves the almost-spilt beans by immediately cooing sympathetically. She sits down and gives Veronica a nice little speech about how kids just have to grow up. And yet...that's not what's saddening Veronica. Really it's the fact that, with the end of the breastfeeding, away goes her treadmill chest. It's true! The real reason she's blue is because she's going to get fat! She doesn't care about IQs and third-world traditions at all; she just doesn't want to have to join a gym! As a reluctant gym subscriber who's never quite found that addictive exercise endorphin rush that people rave about, I completely sympathize with the gym dread. And yet, when the alternate is having a five-year-old suckle your nipples publicly, the gym sounds positively fantastic. Plus, they have a steam room there. You know, a sick part of me also wonders if the woman can't just switch to a breast pump? That would still burn the calories, and it would be way more socially acceptable than what she was doing before (she could just tell people she has a newborn at home). Plus, if what I learned on C.S.I. is true, adult-baby fetish people will spend a pretty penny to get their hands (and mouths) on bottles of real human milk. Just a suggestion! (I feel sick.)

Susan's lying on her couch, reading, when Mike comes in. Here's there to apologize and, I (perhaps just wishfully) suspect, confess his true love-type feelings to Susan. But Susan is immediately cranky with him: "So did you run out of strangers to beat up on the street? You're going house to house now?" And yet...why would Mike come to her house if he were looking for strangers to beat up? That doesn't make much sense, Susan. Mike tells her how "awful" he feels, but Susan keeps sulking: "If you don't want to be my boyfriend, fine. But don't beat up the only guy who wants to volunteer for the job." Blah, blah, but he was yelling at you! Blah, blah but I deserved it! And now Ron's not returning any of Susan's phone calls, sigh. Mike very sincerely asks what it was that Susan did to Ron, and Susan says, oh, she just said something that hurt Ron's feelings just before surgery. Feelings that, and I repeat, Ron should have never subjected her to when she was in such a compromised state! Mike asks what it was that Susan said, and she very, very seriously tells him that she can't tell him. Mike, warmly, lovingly, forgivingly: "Yeah, you can. You can tell me anything, you know that." And Susan seems juuuuuust about to spill it when Julie walks in with the phone: it's Dr. Ron, finally calling Susan back. Susan tells Mike that she needs to take this call, and Mike sighs sadly and asks if maybe they can't talk about all this some other time. But Susan is all, "No, what's the point." Huh? While I kind of get her point of view here, it just doesn't feel a tack that the ever-optimistic Susan would ever take with Mike, especially now that she realizes she still loves him, at least according to her drug-freed subconscious. Mike sadly gets up and leaves, and Susan sits there, looking very sad for a moment (idiot), and then she clicks Ron off hold (which...thank god, because for a second I thought she was deliberately letting Ron hear that whole Mike convo, which would have been so yucky), and wows him with a hesitant little baby-bird "Hi." And there goes yet another missed opportunity with Mike. Also of note: Susan's wearing total tacos!

And it's MAVO TIME. We see another baby getting delivered, which means we get to see another hideous meaty sausage umbilical cord getting cut, eeeeek! MAVO: "At that precise moment, as Dr. Hansen Mills was cutting yet another umbilical cord," Why does MAVO always use everyone's full name? Have you noticed that? "Other ties," MAVO continues oh-so-warmly, "were being severed all over town. Like the one between a child and the mother who didn't want him to grow up so quickly." At work, Veronica tearfully hands Donovan a carton of chocolate milk (she must be thinking about that devilish elliptical trainer). "Or the one between the case of fine wine and the housewife who hadn't wanted to admit that she had a problem." We see Bree, sadly caressing an un-opened bottle of wine. to her is a box jam-packed with different kinds of wine, with "GOODWILL" is written on the side. Ha ha, that's awesome! Bring your good times, and your laughter too, down to the Goodwill drop-off van tonight, because there's going to be a celebration to last throughout the years! MAVO: "Or the one between a woman and a boyfriend, who couldn't forgive her betrayal." Dr. Ron's at the hospital, and he's sighing sadly into the phone (Susan at the other end, I assume). Wait, you mean to tell me that Susan burned this latest chance with Mike, just when Dr. Ron was just calling to end it with her? What a rip! MAVO: "The choice to separate from what we love is painful." Down at the strip club, Libby is sponging down a table and staring off into space, zombie-style, when a man comes up behind her and kisses her. "Hey, how's my girl today?" he says. And then, reaching down to rub her hugely pregnant stomach, he adds, "How are both my girls?" I thought Libby didn't know who the father was. Wait a second! Libby smiles at him and tells him that both of them are "doing good [sic]," and then she fingers her new diamond necklace. MAVO: "The only thing worse is when someone we've trusted makes the choice for us." Wait, does that mean Libby's going to betray Gabby and Carlos? Or maybe it means she's going to betray this guy here when she gives his baby away to the Solises. I wonder!

week: Bree makes out with Hempy, like, all over a table!