FELICIA'S HOUSE OR I GUESS WHOEVER'S HOUSE, LIKE ANYBODY CARES
Paul & Mike: "The flaming skidmarks left in the driveway would suggest that Felicia left here with a quickness. Perhaps it was to go to the cops, but I doubt it."
Mike: Is like the one person I don't feel the need to impute having a pretend sexual encounter with Paul. It would just make me kind of sad to think about that.
CONTRIVANCE DE KAMP
The Awful Gay One: "Hey, I saw Dreamy Detective Chuck Vance leaving here last night, looking blueballed."
Bree: "How do you know him? He's my boyfriend."
Lee: "Yeah, don't you know that all gay people think everybody else is gay? He's gay. Here is an entire gym bag full of hoary clichés about that."
Bree: "You said the same thing about Tom Scavo!"
Lee: "The fuck makes you think that's a point in your favor?"
WRONGERS OF WRONGS, SWINGERS OF SWONGS
Lovely B&B Couple: "Thanks for dinner! Please don't make us have sex with you!"
Tom & Lynette: "Oh, we don't want to fuck your bodies. Just your marriage."
Lovely B&B Couple: "We have a strict No Hanging Out With Unpleasant Bastards agreement."
Lynette: "If you don't provide a buffer, I will fucking kill him where he sleeps. And it doesn't stop there, either. How much pressure do you think those quaint antique doorknobs upstairs can really take? I am pretty much a bull moose of a person. I kick and I spit."
Lovely B&B Couple: "Is it that you two have such an amount of total asshole in your marriage that your marriage itself can no longer contain how horrible you are?"
Tom: "You'd really be doing us a kindness by absorbing some of our incredibly toxic psychic barf."
THRTY-FOUR HOURS LATER
Lovely B&B Couple: "Nope. Kill us if you want, we're done. You people. You people."
Lynette: "Honey, maybe we should reflect on our behavior and what it means."
Tom: "Maybe you should reflect. On my butthole."
Lynette: "Gross, dude. I'm going to bed. If you come upstairs, I will deny you sex and act bitchy."
Tom: "Fresh concept. I'm going to sit down here, sulking alone and stewing in my resentment like a roast in creep sauce, until God finally grants me the aneurysm I've been praying for."
Lynette: "Fresh concept."
Tom: "Freth thonthep, Jerkoff."
Lynette: "Meff monmeff, Barfbag."
Tom: "Durr dur-dur, Fnurburr."