Cut to Ralph struggling and struggling to zip Gabby up, but still the zipper won't budge. He apologizes, insisting that the dress is just "too small." Gabby: "Get me into this dress and I will pay you ten more dollars a week." Ten dollars? Is that supposed to sound extravagant? What was Ralph getting before, three dollars per week? Though I guess, over time, that's like $500 extra a year. But still, the keys to her brand-new car would have been nicer.
Nevertheless, cut to Ralph and Ralph's helper-gardener, who are applying pliers and much brawn to fatty Gabby's overtaxed zipper. Finally, after much grunting and strain, the dress is ON. Gabby thanks god and collapses into a chair. And...RIIIIIP. No! Yes.
Matthew and Betty are in the dungeon, trying to coax some remorse out of Caleb, using a bowl of ice cream as incentive (and a pistol tucked in the back of Matthew's pants as protection). (Hey, is this replacement Caleb or the original "Flasher" Caleb? I can't even tell!) Betty tells Caleb that it breaks her heart to keep him in the basement: "But I can't let you out until I am positive that you will never hurt anyone else again. And the first step is for you to show me that you understand that what you did was wrong." Caleb, in a robot voice: "She was a bad person. She deserved it." Betty does not seem at all pleased to hear this: "No one deserves to die like that, Caleb. Don't you agree?" Caleb remains stubbornly silent, so Betty takes the ice cream and leaves. As she and Matthew lock the door, Caleb starts going crazy, screaming and yanking at his chains. But then he's suddenly quiet, and we see that he's noticed that the brackets that connect his chains to the wall are loosening. And just listen as the "eerie ice-cream killer" music swells!
Meanwhile, over at the House of Home Porn, Lynette and Tom arrive uninvited in an attempt to set Mr. and Mrs. Porndog's minds at ease. As they approach the Porndogs' front door, Lynette says to Tom, "They need to know we don't judge them for what they do in the privacy of their own home." Tom insists the Porndogs' embarrassed silence is a sign that they don't want anything to do with Tom and Lynette, and maybe the Scavos need to respect that. Lynette: "I need these play dates. Tom, we need these play dates." And with that, Lynette rings the doorbell. Tom, whispering: "Fine. But you do all the talking."