Cut to Gabby, back in the prophylactically frumpy outfit (oh man, I missed the turquoise genie pants before; that's an excellently heinous touch) as the cameras snap. Gabby's holding a plate of cookies, Tanya's vamping it up in a cocktail dress, and there are three young swains lurking in the background. I'm not at all sure what this ad is for -- probably something vaguely embarrassing, like a new nether moisturizer. Or maybe an allergy medication? Because, wow, those ads never make sense; remember the one with the woman windsurfing through wheat fields?
Nosy Mrs. McC rings the doorbell over at Mike's now cop-free house. As usual, he opens the door in four-point-six nanoseconds. Mike has trouble placing Mrs. McC at first: isn't her house the one with all the gnomes out front? Mrs. McC: "You're thinking of Martha Huber. Terrible story, someone beat her to death and then buried her in the forest. Ironic, huh: isn't that where gnomes live?" Mike: "I...don't really know that much about gnomes." And for once his leaden delivery actually improves his lines; saying "gnomes" is somehow funnier when it comes from a dead robot. Anyway, Mike once did Mrs. McC a solid and drove her to the hospital when she had an angina attack, so now she's returning the favor: she hands over his toolbox, the very toolbox the cops were searching for high and low: "Oh, and you might want to wash that wrench off, it's got something on it." Monique's blood, perhaps? The "Hilarious Suppression of Evidence" music trills.
Oh right, the Orson mom story. For some strange reason, I'm not that into this storyline, which is weird because I sure do love that Dixie. So Mama Hodge is over for dinner, and Orson is very not amused by her surprise appearance. You'd think Bree, with her own strained relationships with both her stepmother and mother-in-law, would know better than to spring Orson's mother on him. Orson calls Bree into the kitchen for a Whisperence (we're friends, right? So I can do that, conflate "whisper" and "conference"?): "You don't know her. She's a loathsome woman...and I refuse to break bread with her." Bree, with the full force of her experience as a jilted mother: "The fifth commandment tells us to honor our parents no matter how hideous or repellent they may be." Orson takes issue with her liberal interpretation of the commandments (the fifth commandment is actually more along the lines of "Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me"), but he finally agrees to sit down to dinner.