The police arrest Mike for Monique's murder, which is all the reason Bree needs to forgive Orson. It's also all the reason Edie needs to dump Mike. And all the reason Susan needs to come running to Mike's rescue. Susan, convinced that Orson's the real culprit, launches into full-on Susie Drew mode: she steals keys to Orson's office and discovers records of his time in an insane asylum. Unfortuantely, all the snooping makes Susan late for a big dinner with Ian's parents, which turns out not to be such a big deal, because the parents' flight was delayed. But Ian's still so hurt that he's clearly not Susan's number-one priority that he decides to throw money at the problem: he offers to pay for Mike's defense if and only if Susan agrees never to see Mike again. Apparently, he's never heard the Sting anthem, "If You Love Somebody, Set Them Free (To Visit Their Jailed Love Plumber)." Gabby and Vern are preparing a group of girls for the Snowflake competition, and one little girl, Amy, is not up to snuff. Team Beautiful decides to give Amy the boot; who cares if the little girl's mom died just last year? But when Gabby gets an eyeful of Amy's dad, who is "fine," she offers to give Amy private Snowflake lessons as an excuse to get closer to him. Amy figures out what's going on and tells Gabby to move along: Amy has big plans for her dad to marry her best friend's mom. And nasty Gabby? Removes this obstacle by manufacturing a rift between Amy and her best friend. So much for Gabby's big breakthrough just last week -- the one about how she just wanted to help those poor, sweet girls. Now that Orson's back in Bree's good graces, they take steps to put Gloria away in some community for elderly evildoers. When Gloria gets wind of the fact that she's being issued her walking papers, she places a mysterious phone call to arrange a secret meeting with none other than the presumed-murdered Alma Hodge. Mrs. McCluskey's neighborhood campaign to spread Lynette's news about Art the Pedophile spirals out of control, and the whole neighborhood goes vigilante-crazy, shunning Art when he arrives at the big Wisteria Lane holiday bash dressed as Santa Claus, and picketing Art's house, and pelting Art with rocks. Lynette feels guilty for all the insanity she's unleashed, but that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when sick sister Rebecca reacts to all the stress by up and dying. Distraught Lynette visits Art to offer her condolences (what?), and he vengefully informs her that he's moving away, and hey: thanks to Lynette, his one safeguard against letting his inner molester run amok (i.e., his sister) has now been removed. So that's a big "happy holidays" to the kids living in whatever future town Art hits . Ho, ho...no.
Previously on Desperate Housewives: last week's many stirring revelations (Art's still a potential pedophile, Gabby is a hero among little Snowflakes, and Mike's an idiot robot), plus Orson murdered a parrot and maybe his wife.
We open on a panoramic shot of Blood Drive Park, which is getting decked with some serious fa-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la: gigantor candy canes, shiny ornaments, the majestic North Pole. There is no actual snow to be seen, this, after all, being the Eagle State. MAVO gushes that what we're seeing here is the bustle and hustle for the annual holiday block party, a big Wisteria Lane tradition to which "everyone's invited." Bree sits at home stuffing invitations, and angel Andrew dutifully walks them out to the mailbox. PervArt open his invite and smile hugely. MAVO: "But as the big night drew near, more than holiday cheer was being spread around." Mrs. McCluskey gossips to Edie about Art being naughty not nice with his swim team, Carlos tells Mike, Austin tells Julie.
Party Time. Everyone's drinking and laughing and making out under the mistletoe when who should roll up but Art, dressed in full-on Santa gear, with his sad sister rolling beside him in her motorized wheelchair. She's got an oxygen tube in her nose, a sad little elf cap strapped to her head, and sad pointy elf shoes on her feet. They both look eager and happy, their faces just shining with excitement. Oh god, this is going to be really, really bad. The whole gossip-primed party greets them by going painfully silent, like even the blaring carols on the sound system mysteriously fade away. Art fills the void with some excruciating "ho, ho, ho"-ing and tries to get the kiddies interested in his "sack of toys," if you know what I mean. All the parents make a big show of restraining their children. Drunken Ida, however, waves hugely at Art and wishes him a "Merry Christmas," but then Mrs. McGossip grabs her arm and viciously whispers the whole story into her ear. Ida's face darkens. Scrooge and his little sad-dog sidekick sister look confused; then Art locks eyes with Lynette, who's standing tall with her Searing Judgment From On High face making a proud showing. Finally, finally -- after I've died one thousand deaths on my couch waiting for this heinous anus of a scene to just end already -- Art and Sis get the gist that they're not wanted, no not at all. (Why on earth did Bree even invite them?) They beat a gruesome, shame-dripping retreat. Ugh, that was so very hard to watch -- in fact, I couldn't stomach it the first time I watched it. I kept my face buried in my hands the whole way through. The poor sister, she seems so nice! Oh, that elf hat just kills me. MAVO: "For Arthur and his sister, it had turned out to be a very silent night." Oh MAVO, that is rich.
Mini-credits! Oh, it's going to be a jam-packed night. Hang on to your stockings. With care!
Said credits drop us into a Christmas-decoration montage. One by one, all the Ladies unload their box of angels and lights and mysterious plastic plant-life. Bree's box of stuff is labeled with a neat P-Touched label that reads "Christmas." The Scavo's box says "Xmas" in sloppy magic marker, out of which Tom pulls out a huge knot of big-bulb-style lights. Gabby box says "Holiday stuff," and it holds a big fake fir wreath. Edie's box reads "WINTER CRAP"; she unpacks a dusty nativity scene. Susan's box has just a drawing of a tree on it (you may recall that she's supposed to be an illustrator). She pulls out some fake mistletoe and makes Ian come french her, and they moan and coo grossly, like they're in love or whatever. Ian asks her if she's free to meet his parents for dinner Saturday. Oh, and also, since they'll be too tired for a restaurant -- they're only in town for a four-hour layover -- could she maybe host the dinner at her house? And do all the cooking? Susan confronts him with her terrible secret: she's a deadly bad cook. Ian: "Well, my parents certainly won't be expecting a gourmet meal." (Though for some strange British reason, he says it like "gooer-may.") Susan: "Will they be expecting stomach cramps? Acid reflux? Night sweats?" Ian laughs, but Susan just gives him the thousand-yard stare of the not-at-all-joking. Ian: "They're just very old-fashioned, heart-and-home types, and they might wonder why you didn't make the effort." Pushover Susan pulls a miserable face but still agrees to "give it a shot." Ian: "Nothing elaborate, just a simple roast, and something appropriate to go with it." Susan: "Right! Like an ambulance." And the "Worst Plan Ever" music rollicks us into the scene. God, has Ian met Susan? If he's really worried about impressing his parents, then he should hire a fleet of chefs to do all the cooking for her. Or at the very least offer to help peel the carrots. As it stands, this set-up just seems sexist, dumb, and doomed.
Gabby and Vern are getting the Snowflakes ready for the big competition. An awkward girl named "Amy" is doing an ungainly hoof up the runway, and Gabby is trying to get her to "glide." Out of the corner of her mouth, to Vern: "If she were a horse, we'd have to shoot her." Vern ventrilo-whispers, "Poor thing, she tries so hard." Yeah, nonetheless, Gabby thinks they should "dump her" -- "pageant consultants are judged on their roster," and Amy is making them look bad. Vern reminds Gabby to be nice, regarding the fact that Amy's mom died just last year. And yet Gabby argues that Amy is taking up time that would be better spent on "Sherrie," this attractive little girl who I call total bullshit on because she was totally not a part of last week's class. Huh? Gabby bossy-bosses, Vern haws and hems. (Wasn't this supposed to be his business?) Gabby screams at Amy, who is off-screen, "Amy! Little Miss Snowflake does NOT scratch down there!" Gabby looks at Vern pointedly. Vern: "Then again, her mother did die a year ago, how long is she going to milk it?" They agree to break the news to Amy's dad together.
Bree brings a breakfast tray into Gloria's room. Gloria, engrossed in watching home movies, absently tells her she'll "pick through it later." Why is Gloria still staying there if Ian's been given the heave-ho? Certainly she would be the very first thing I threw out on the lawn, even before his aprons and rubber cleaning gloves. Bree, with forced cheer, comments about how it sure is "fun" to relive old times (re: the home movies). Gloria: "Well, it's one way to kill time while you're waiting for death." Much like this storyline! Gloria, her hair looking both completely fake yet authentically greasy, wonders if Bree's started in with the divorce proceedings ("I think you're a good Christian woman and you deserve better than my son"). Bree: "It's not that easy, I love him." Gloria: "You'll get over it. I did." Bree leaves in disgust. Gloria, with a nostalgic gleam in her eye, returns to her movie. We see her and Alma decorating a Christmas tree, having a gay old time, laughing and blowing kisses at the camera, while a sullen Orson stands off to the side, looking like the worst case of adult bershon there ever was. Hey, who's filming the home movie, exactly?
Lynette is in her car, getting ready to drive off somewhere, and she's on her cell phone, talking to "Rita" about getting "all the moms together" for a big witch hunt -- I mean, "meeting." She goes to back out of her driveway when the sad little sister elf rolls up in her wheelchair and serves up, in a mousy little voice, a vast and hearty portion of guilt pudding: turns out Art got fired from his job, someone spit on him at the hardware store, and someone slashed their tires while it was "parked in the church parking lot" (now that's harsh). Sad Elf accuses Lynette of being the one with the dirty mind for interpreting Art's beautiful photo homage to his swim team as inappropriate. Elf reminds Lynette that she's not well, and not strong enough to deal with all the stress. Lynette sort of apologizes. Elf, like many Fairview residents before her, asks Lynette if she's ever for one second considered that she might be wrong. Lynette: "I have kids, okay? Better safe than sorry." Sad Elf: "As long as you're safe, what do you care who's sorry?" Elf rolls away like a slow-moving guilt parade of one, and Lynette sits in her car looking chastened.
Bree's house. Wow, Marcia Cross must be really showing by now, because they need an elaborate gingerbread mansion to cover her bump. Susan's there: would Bree mind cooking a huge gourmet meal for Ian's family on her behalf? Bree's happy to do so. Bree, meaningfully: "Actually, I could probably use the distraction." Selfish Susan hesitates before asking Bree what's wrong. Where's the Susan who selflessly helped Bree scrub that breakdown birthday cake out of the rug? Susan musters up an unfriendly "Oh?" and Bree tells her about the big split with Orson, and Susan almost chokes on the mint she just stole off the Bump-Defying House of Gingerbread.
Bachelor Bungalow. Edie, wearing a strange sky-blue silk halter-muumuu shirt thing, yells at Mike for being stupid enough to try to bury his toolbox out in the woods even though he was fully aware the police were watching his every move. Light 'em up, Edie! I agree, that really was the dumbest move ever. Roommate Carlos is sitting at the table, doing his part in the war for continuity. Mike blusters that he was "just trying to buy [him]self some time." Edie: "Well you may have bought twenty to life." Edie asks Mike to tell her, once again, whether or not he killed Monique, and yet he still can't remember. The police arrive, put Mike in cuffs, and cart him off.
Back at Bree's. Susan advises Bree to go to the police with all her dirt on Orson. Bree sighs that she needs "some time to think" first. Bree walks Susan to the door, and together they walk out onto the stoop. Bree explains that she just can't get her mind around Orson doing such a terrible thing as murdering his wife and mistress. Susan, in a remark that's surely going to come back and bite her in the ass, says, "We all want to believe the best about the people we care about, but you cannot let your feelings for a man blind you to cold hard facts." Of course that's exactly when the police lead a cuffed Mike out of his house. Mrs. McGossip races over to dish that "they're saying on the news" that Mike killed Monique. Bree cries out, "Thank god!" and Susan shoots her a shocked look. The "Look Whose Shoe's On The Other Foot Now" music swells.
Gabby and Vern psych themselves up for a confrontation with Amy's dad, agreeing how they have to do "what's best for the business." So they're in business together now? Vern worries, Vern hesitates. Gabby promises to back him up, and then she shoves him into what appears to be a hotel conference room. Gabby: "Get in there, you spineless 'mo." In the background you can see the fuzzy outline of another poster for the Snowflake pageant, so I guess the pageant has taken over the whole hotel? But then! Amy's dad "Bill" turns around and get this, he's totally fine, like with a "PH," that's right...TOTALLY PHINE! Vern launches into their prepared spiel about how Amy is not quite up to the challenge, and Gabby immediately throws Vern under the bus, totally disavowing his attempts to give Amy the boot. Instead, she offers to come over on Friday night to give Amy private Snowflake lessons. 'Mo Vern rolls his eyes heavenward. And just like that, Gabby has unraveled all the personal-growth momentum she had going after the last two episodes. Whatever.
Mike, looking more animated than we've seen him all season (seriously, it's like someone finally found the on switch), is behind bars, dictating a to-do list to Edie. First of all, he needs her to lend him money to hire a lawyer. Second, she needs to sic this lawyer on the whole wrench issue; apparently the fuzz tested it and it shows traces of Monique's blood. Edie stares at him in shock. He asks her what's wrong. And? She dumps him! Playing like it's been building for a long time: "I wanted to tell you this weeks ago, and I wish I had, because now you're going to think that I'm breaking up with you because of this whole 'blood on the ax' thing." Mike: "Wrench." Edie: "Whatever." In short: Edie thinks they should see other people. Mike, bemused: "You're telling me this on the day I'm put in a man's prison?" (I pretty sure he means "men's prison" here, unless he's getting literary on our asses, referring to himself as like a walking prison of one or something, like he's his own worst trap?) Edie: "Well, I said the timing was bad." While I applaud Edie for being the one sensible woman on Wisteria Lane, I also feel kind of sorry for her, because I still totally believe that she's in love with Mike, and I think she's going to hate herself later for her inability to stick by him. Though I guess she's probably better off. Edie deserves much better than an Eeyore like Mike. Also, Mike doesn't really look all that cut up about the breakup, either.
Later that day. Susan pays Mike a visit. She asks him if Edie's lined up a lawyer for him. Mike snorts and tells her that Edie dumped him. Susan: "Why?" Mike: "Well, I was arrested for murder." Susan: "Still, it's tacky." It isn't the funniest line, but Teri Hatcher manages to make something out of it. Even so, I'm surprised when Mike laughs. It's alive! The tin soldier is downright spry in this scene. I wonder: has Edie been keeping him drugged this whole time? Or something? Susan offers to help bail him out. Unfortunately his bail is set at one million dollars. Susan looks like she's been punched. Hey, here's an idea: Mike should get his bio-son the billionaire Zana to foot the bill! If Zana were still on the show, that is. Mike: "Aren't you going to ask?" Susan, confused: "What?" Mike: "Whether I killed that woman?" Susan: "I don't have to, I know you didn't." Mike confesses that even he has doubts about his innocence. They hold hands, and the "Susan Is Better Than Edie" music trills.
Widower Bill's. Amy is in the backyard, desperately twirling her baton and looking inside the house for approval; Gabby utterly ignores her as she sips a glass of wine and focuses the full blast of her seduction nozzle onto Bill, who's busy slicing mushrooms for dinner. Gabby glances outside and spots Amy getting bashed in the head by her own baton. Amy collapses to the grass, and Gabby rolls her eyes and closes the blinds. Yuck. Whatever happened to the Gabby who vowed to stop being awful? She totally tricked me with all her faux emotional evolution, and now she's right back to being despicable. When will this storyline end?
Gabby and Bill flirt about how awful it is to be lonely, and Bill actually seems fairly likeable, like way better than Gabby deserves. Just then Amy bursts in, all excited. She caught the baton! Did they see it? Gabby puts her creepy mitt on Bill's arm and smarms at Amy to go back outside and try again, they promise to watch her this time. Amy eagerly turns to leave, but then she turns and catches Bill and Gabby doing a weird swirling snake dance with each other's hands, ew. Amy's eyes narrow evilly.
Ian arrives at Susan's house with a bunch of flowers for the centerpiece at tonight's big dinner with the folks. Susan is poring over the phonebook, looking for lawyers for Mike. Ah, just what Mike needs, a phonebook lawyer. Susan announces that they'll be having something French, something that sounds an awful like "Bell Biv Devoe." Ian: "Well, that's very ambitious of you. And when will Bree be done making it?" Susan swings her arms guiltily and confesses that Bree'll be over with the food by 5:30. Ian notices the phonebook; Susan explains how Mike's in the pokey for murder and Edie dumped him, so now she's all he's got. Ian looks jealous, and Susan soothes him that she and Mike are "just friends," and Ian's her man. Cue the "Susan's An Emotional Cripple Who Doesn't Even Know Her Own True Feelings" music!
Hey, Ladies' Poker time! They must be on some kind of biannual schedule because they haven't played all season, and it's been missed. By me. Bree is off in the kitchen, leaving a message for Orson on his voicemail. Clearly this is the latest of a long line of messages. Bree sits down at the table as Gabby and Lynette finish up their filler talk (something about the chips and the cards and who does what and meow, meow, meow). Lynette: "Guys? Why has it been so long since poker? I need this!" Oh my god, did they just hear me say that? Have I somehow managed to open up a wormhole between my Oakland living room and the Wisteria Lanesters? Hello? Ladies? Can you hear me? If so, Gabby, I need you to tell me where you got that top. That silver-weave scoop at the neckline is just too cute! Gabby, can you hear me? ... Weird. Gabby is totally ignoring me now. Susan scootles in, late as always, and demands to know if Bree's gone to the police yet. Bree has no idea what Susan's talking about: now that it's been revealed that Mike's Monique's murderer (ugh, so many "M"s here, it's like that terrible Crash Test Dummies song in here). Susan: "What are you saying? You think Mike is guilty?" Gabby and Lynette, sensing the tension creeping into Susan and Bree's demeanors, start trying to make "girl talk." Gabby hilariously blurts, "Anybody have a yeast infection?" Keep it up, Gabs, and I might just forgive you for being such a moral midget in that your other bore-y-line.
Bree and Susan keep arguing. Bree cites Monique's blood being found on the wrench, Susan cites the fact that Monique's teeth were all removed. Also Susan knows, like in her heart, that Mike is no murderer. Bree, in a line that would have been funny if it hadn't been stretched out like an old rubber band by all the previews, says, "We all have convictions. I believe Mike's last one was for manslaughter." Susan challenges Bree to look through Orson's belongings with her, seeing as she's so sure her husband's innocent. Bree icily wonders just what Susan thinks she might find. Susan: "Oh, I don't know, blackmail letters? A necklace made of teeth?" Lynette to Gabby: "We're not going to play cards, are we?" Susan announces that she won't be playing cards with someone who would let Mike take the fall for her guilty dentist husband (that's Bree, for those of you who aren't quite following), and Bree declares that she won't be making dinner for Ian's parents tonight after all. Susan: "Fine, I'll cook it myself." Bree, nastily: "Good! Let me know if there are any survivors." Susan: "And if you take Orson back? You do the same." Oh, snack! Susan storms out, but instead of actually leaving the house, she sneakily slams the door while remaining inside, sneaks around to the kitchen, and...steals the food for Ian's dinner? Nope. She steals the keys to Orson's office off of Bree's collection of spare keys. Sorry, Ian's parents: no home-cooked food for you.
This Rita person's house. All the moms are there, making signs. "SEX OFFENDERS OUT!" one reads, and "PERVERT GO AWAY" and "Pedophilia IS A SIN!" and also "Monsters NOT welcome," any number of which would make an excellent t-shirt. Apparently they're planning on picketing Art's house. Lynette is clearly perturbed by the magnitude of their efforts. One woman, to Rita: "I want the word 'pedophile' to really stand out. Do you have any glitter?" Mrs. McC: "Say 'molester,' it sounds scarier." Lynette tries to backpedal things, like maybe the should hold off on the protests and instead just work on being "vigilant" with their kids, and the women start to turn on her. Glitter Mom: "So you want to wait until he actually molests one of our kids? Whose side are you on?" Mrs. McC stands up for her: Lynette's the one they have to thank for exposing the monster. Why, she's this town's "hero"! Lynette's shoulders slump under the weight of the compliment.
Susan lets herself into Orson's office and starts rifling through his desk. But then suddenly Orson comes out of some side room carrying a pizza box, then settles into one of his exam chairs. Susan tiptoes over to a supply closet, then peers out at Orson. He's got a television set up in there, a football game on, and a Diet Coke nestled in the spit-sink. Looks like Orson's settled in for the night. Really, really sorry, Ian's parents: Susan, it appears, is trapped here for the duration.
Snowflake boot camp. Handsome Bill is there to drop off Amy for her lesson, and he nervously asks Gabby to join him for a coffee after class. Gabby giddily agrees. Amy, standing behind her, crinkles her face up in disgust. The second Bill's out of earshot, Amy gets all tuff with Gabby, telling her to leave her dad alone. But it turns out that Amy doesn't protest the union because Gabby's awful, though that probably part of it, but because Amy has her own plans for her dad: he's going to marry her best friend's mom (her best friend being Sherrie, the girl that Vern and Gabby referred to earlier as being the only girl they had on their roster who had a chance of becoming queen of the Snowflakes). Gabby wonders if maybe Amy's dad might have an opinion in this matter. "My mom died," Amy brats, "now all he wants is for me to be happy. Now get in there and teach me how to work the runway. That's what we're paying you for, right?" Has Gabby met her match?
And back to the Snoopy Susan storyline. Orson momentarily leaves his post to go brush his teeth and Susan is just about to make a break for it when Bree arrives for a heart-to-heart. Susan scuttles back to her hiding spot.
And now for some Snowflake sabotage. Gabby slithers up to Sherrie and lays out her trap. First she tells Sherrie that she gets to double up with Amy for the big opening number of the show. Then she pretends to be confused when Sherrie is bummed about the pairing regarding Amy's supreme klutziness. Actually, she says, "Amy sucks." And didn't Gabby herself say that first impressions are everything with the judges. Gabby lies that she's already told Amy about the pairing, and now Amy's all excited. That said, Gabby's sure Amy will understand if Sherrie explains it to her. Because what little girl doesn't want to hear her best friend tell her she's a liability? A sad little girl whose mother died just one year ago. Sherrie, who seems like a nice kid (despite the part about how she said her best friend "sucks"), is very doubtful about the whole betrayal idea. What if Amy isn't totally understanding about the whole thing? Gabby (playing with Sherrie's long, long ponytail -- what a creep): "Well, friends come and go, but a crown is forever." Sherrie smiles hugely; she's convinced. Gabby smiles a gross, self-satisfied smile, like she's very proud of her ingenious plan to pull one over on two eight-year-old girls. Gabby is moral dwarf.
Orson confesses the whole story to Bree. He never loved Alma, but his mother wanted them together, and he was "stupid enough to get her pregnant." They got married and Alma miscarried the baby soon thereafter, but still he stuck with her for his mother's sake. In other words, Orson is a total mama's boy. Yet again. Orson: "So I resigned myself to a life without love. Then I met Monique. It was wrong, I didn't care. I loved her more than I loved anyone. Until you." The "you" being Bree, not you the viewing audience. Sorry, people! Bree's heart melts, especially when he confesses that the whole reason he was afraid to tell Bree about his cheating on Alma was how betrayed she was over Rex cheating on her. Which, if this is a lie (which a good 60 percent of me still thinks it is), then it's a pretty good one.
Trapped Susan, meanwhile, is pacing in her hiding closet and looking frantic. I'm guessing Ian's parents are showing up at her house just about now? But then she notices a box high up on a shelf marked "Orson's Spare Room." It's labeled by hand, not done with a P-touch, so Bree didn't label it. And since he probably wouldn't refer to himself in the third person, either Alma did the labeling, or maybe Gloria. I know this episode is called "The Miracle Song," but "The Secret Meaning of Cardboard Boxes" would have been a much more apt name for it. I know, I know: the title has to be the title of a Stephen Sondheim song, and Stephen Sondheim hasn't written any songs about cardboard boxes. Yet. Susan quietly eases the box down, and miracle of miracles, she doesn't fall or make a big noise or get naked or anything. Maybe "The Miracle Song" is a good title, after all! Inside she finds an eighth-grade report card for Orson, dated what looks like 1972. It's nothing but As and Bs. Then Susan finds a stack of letters addressed to Gloria from Orson. Return address? Elm Ridge Mental Hospital in Sagamore, CT. Susan finds a "ADMISSIONS FOR COMMITTED PATIENTS" form, dated 1981. And the reason for commitment is listed as "Psychological Depression," which just sounds so, so made up. I mean, isn't the "psychological" part implied on a mental patient's commitment form? That's like a general practitioner diagnosing you with "Physiological Herpes" or whatever. So, so dumb. FYI: Orson's birthday is listed as June 28, 1964, which makes him a Cancer. Really? Because all his persnickety cleaning habits totally stink of Virgo. And oh my god I've just fallen down a long, deep well of obsessiveness. It's so dark in here! And I'm so cold.
Susan pulls out a photo of young Orson sitting on a bench in front of a building that's very "mental hospital TM." A younger Gloria stands by, looking smug. The whole thing is so obviously Photoshopped, it's like Dune meets Designing Women. (Speaking of Dune: What the hell?)
Orson finishes his tale of woe, swearing that Bree knows everything. Bree tells Orson to gather up his things: he's coming home. And Gloria's getting tossed out on her "evil ass."
Free at last, Susan scuttles home carrying a huge yet surprisingly grease-free bucket of chicken. When Ian said the meal need not be gooer-may, I don't quite think he meant bargain-basement chicken, either. Susan speed-walks into the living room with a breezy "Sorry I'm late." Turns out Ian's parents got waylaid at the airport, so dinner's off. Susan is relieved to hear that her lateness has turned out to not be such a big deal, but not hugely so. "No harm done," she says obliviously. But Ian is hurt: if his parents had been there, she would have been 40 minutes late. Susan, obviously: "But they're not here." Ian, mad: "You didn't know that. And where's dinner?" And I have to say, I'm totally in Ian's corner on this one. Susan could have easily done her snooping the day, or silently sent Ian a text message from the closet, telling him that she was running late -- you know, displayed some common courtesy. Then again, Ian could have been less of an asshole and not bullied Susan into cooking dinner.
Anyway, Ian extrapolates that Susan's delay was all in aide of Mike, and Susan eagerly shows him Orson's records from the mental hospital, arguing that his one-year stay there clearly indicates that he's dangerous. Um, Susan? One year of "psychological depression" does not a murderer make. I'm no psychological psychiatrist, but I don't think depression is linked to violent behavior -- excluding self-injury, that is. Ian offers to get Mike the best lawyer in town. But! Only if Susan agrees to never, ever see Mike again. He tries to put a good spin on this creepy stipulation by saying that he's just afraid that if Susan and Mike spend any more time together, Mike's bound to fall in love with Susan again. Because what man could resist her? Ew, now I'm totally not in Ian's corner anymore. In fact, I want out of the whole ring: this relationship is beginning to make me feel really slimy. Nonetheless, Susan agrees to the plan, thus sealing their doom -- she's totally going to see Mike again: he lives 100 feet away from her! Plus you just know that Susan's going to have some kind of plumbing emergency. In her kitchen, not her pants. This is just the worst plan ever, and it makes Ian seem not so sexy at all. In fact, some people on the boards have even gone so far as to suggest that Ian's showing the first signs of being abusive (possessiveness, an over-controlling nature, temper). And the "What Do We Care, His Wife Is Going to Wake Up, Anyway" music thrums into life.
Vigilante Villa. The whole neighborhood's gathered outside Art's house, and they're carrying an amazing assortment of signs: "Leave Freak" and "Stay off my kid" are my personal favorites. Lynette watches from across the street, still looking guilty. Tom comes out and is wowed by how much the crowd has swelled in just the last fifteen minutes. Lynette tells him to go ahead and say it. Tom, without hesitating: "This is all your fault, you should have listened to me." Lynette, clearly shaken (pretty much her default these past few episodes), argues that there's no way she could have known that the neighborhood was going to devolve into a mob of people holding "Get off my kid" signs. Tom: "You tell people Frankenstein's on the loose, then you're surprised to see the torch-wielding villagers?" Hey, Tom: how's that pizza place coming along?
Tom turns to go inside and put the kids to bed, but he stops when he hears the approaching whine of an ambulance.
Snowflake hotel. Amy screams at Sherrie that she hates her and never wants to see her again. Amy stomps out and Sherrie stands there, looking crushed. Gabby picks up her phone and calls Bill to ask him out. Vern, standing behind her, gives Gabby a disapproving look that indicates he knows exactly what Gabby's done. Bleh. I'm so turned off by this storyline, I can't even come up with a way of telling you how turned off I am by this storyline. Gabby sucks.
The ambulance is parked out in front of Art's house. Lynette runs up and overhears a paramedic say into his walkie-talkie that "she's in cardiac arrest." Lynette looks totally sick with guilt. Two other ambulance guys wheel the sister out on a gurney, one of them frantically giving her CPR. Art runs out of the house to follow his sister into the ambulance, and one of the angry mobsters hits him in the head with a rock. Coincidence? Or well-plotted symmetry with the can of food that Art threw at Jackie fromRoseanne's head to save Lynette's life during the Supermarket Standoff? Lynette starts screaming at the crowd to stop it, and she begs them to leave, but people are already way too worked up to listen. Art gets into the ambulance, and Lynette runs up to him and grabs his sleeve. He turns and stares at her with the hot rage of a billion suns, and she stands there, staring back at him the pleading eyes of a billion hungry puppies. He finally breaks the staredown and gets into the ambulance, and she wistfully says, "I'm sorry." Yeah, if there were any situation where "too late to say you're sorry" really applies, this is it. Not only that, but way to delay the ambulance getting to the hospital, Lynette.
Bree and Orson are packing up Gloria's things into cardboard boxes. (See, Stephen Sondheim? We need a song about BOXES!) Gloria sits on the bed sulking. They're sending her off to a "lovely retirement community, it's [their] Christmas gift to [her]." Back to Witch Mountain for Gloria! Gloria, her voice heavy with fake tears: "So you're exiling me, cutting me off from my new grandchildren?" Bree: "And that's our gift to them." Bree heads off with her box, and Gloria gets in Orson's face and threatens to tell Bree all his secrets. Ah, but he's already told her everything! Except for the stuff he hasn't. But he reminds Gloria that she has her own deadly secrets. "And if you want them kept," he tells her, all manly, "you'll keep mine." He leaves with his box, and Gloria pulls out a cell phone. Whoever it is she's calling answers in three-tenths of a second, so this person must have been really waiting for the call. "I have some bad news, she's taking him back. Meet me on the corner in an hour. We have to deal with this." Whaaaaat?
Nighttime. Art's home from the hospital, and he's packing up his car with BOXES. Lynette, who is a complete idiot, comes over by herself, at night, to apologize for something so bad that any attempt at apology is laughable: you see, it turns out Rebecca the elf sister died. You know, I think I would have brought Tom with me if I were her. Or maybe left Art to his grief and made a public apology, like in the paper, a gesture that might have a slim chance of coming off as something beyond just a selfish plea for forgiveness. But anyway, Lynette comes over and says, "I heard about Rebecca on the news, if there's anything we can do to help?" God, Lynette! You're the last person he'd ask for help. He saved your life, and you repaid him by breaking into his house and spreading rumors that incited the neighbors to throw rocks at him! Art, his voice just drenched in sarcasm: "Wow. You must be feeling really guilty." Lynette is so wrapped up in her need to feel better about being so awful that she doesn't pick up on the sarcasm. She walks up even closer to him and babbles her agreement about how very "terrible" she feels. Art looks at her with a creepy detachment that is profoundly menacing. Um, Lynette? Now might be the time to exit stage right, even. He stares at her some more, very much not forgiving her, and she finally realizes she just does not belong there, and turns to go. But then he stops her with a friendly "hey!" And here comes the really bad part! For second it looks as though Art is this very sad, lonely person who really needs to talk, even if it's only to this awful woman who's totally betrayed him, he just has to unload his grief onto someone -- he manages to convey all that with just a look and some body language, and he looks so sympathetic. But then! He turns that sympathetic look on its ear, creepy-style, and smiles and tells Lynette that he really should be thanking her. You see, his sister always kept him in check, because he loved her too much to disappoint her. But now that she's dead, there's nothing standing in this pedophile's way. Yeah, he's going to move to a new town and let his monster loose. And guess who those kids he destroys will have to thank? Why, Lynette of course. Wow. Just...wow. Throughout this whole confession, Art has a small, devilish smile playing across his face, and it just makes my spine collapse with squeam. Matt Roth is goooood.
Lynette is understandably disturbed. In fact, she's devastated. Her red, sweaty face is a crumpled roadmap of veins and pain. Coming on top of Lynette's implied contribution to Snora's death, this is one heavy load. And since there's no witnesses, she's like the housewife who cried wolf: no one's going to believe her. He is an evil genius! And he makes me feel like I need to take ten showers.
And yet...something about the way he's saying all this, or maybe just the fact that he is saying it, it gives me pause. Is it possible that he's making this all up just to exact his revenge on Lynette for what she did to him? I mean, clearly this is an obvious way to cause her a great deal of hardship. Then again, there's just no explaining that wall of be-bathing-suited boys.
Lynette backs away from him, slowly, like you would from a bear. Or like...from a dangerous sexual predator. Art says goodbye, and then he says: "You take care of that beee-you-tiful family." Eeeeee! He walks away, and Lynette stands there, frozen, looking very much like she's going to hurl. I know exactly how she feels. She turns to run home, but then her eye catches a lawn decoration (Art's?) of a lit-up Santa with four little choirboys singing, their mouths in perfect, horribly suggestive "O"s. Four little choirboys, four little Scavo children. Minus Kayla, of course, who I've pretty much lost all hope of seeing ever again.
Lynette scampers home, and behind her we see Gloria come out of Bree's house, and this launches the MAVO wrap-up: "There is a reason people can't wait for Christmas, and it has little to do with family reunions." The camera zooms in on Orson and Bree, standing together, looking out the window.
Edie's also staring out her front window, looking pensive and perhaps just a wee bit regretful. She also looks wildly cute in a pair of red men's pajamas. She's sipping a big mug of what MAVO tells us is "eggnog."
Susan stares out her window, and Ian comes over with mistletoe and they kiss.
Gabby stares out her window, and then Bill pops into frame and hands her a big poinsettia. The smile and hug. So I guess they're all in love now? Amy is, of course, nowhere in sight.
MAVO: "No, people look forward to Christmas because they know it's a time for miracles." Gloria walks down to the corner and a black car pulls up to her. The window rolls down and...it's Alma! "Don't just stand there," she says to Gloria, "tell me everything." Alma's alive and she's totally in cahoots with Gloria? WHAT?
Up : I have no idea! New episodes don't air until sometime in January, so you'll have to wait until 2007 to find out what happens . Happy New Year, all you lovely Desperate fans! May the presents under your tree be exactly what you hoped they would be (versus, say, crabs, which no one wants down there, no not at all, especially not at Christmastime).