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.