Susan's. Julie doesn't want them to send Zack back to Paul. "They sent him to a psycho ward!" she squeals. "Actually, they call it a rehabilitation center," Zack pipes up. Everyone looks thoughtful. Susan asks what Mike thinks, and he points out that Paul, as Zack's father, does have a right to know where he is. Also, if he finds out that the Mayers are hiding Paul's kid, they could get in a lot of trouble. Julie rolls her eyes. Susan says that Mike's right: "Sorry, guys." Julie pleads, but Zack gets up from the table and swears it will be fine. The kids hug. Mike offers to take the kid over, so Julie and Susan can.... His voice trails off. I think the phrase you're searching for, Mike, is "Have a total bitch fit at each other." Susan tells him that, if Paul goes all nutbar on Zack, Mike should bring him back. The men leave, and Susan starts with the "young lady," and Julie just stomps upstairs. My mother would have said, "DON'T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU," but Susan just lets her go.

Mike walks Zack back to Casa Murder/Suicide and tells Zack that if he ever needs to talk about anything, he should call Mike. Day or night. Call him. Seriously. He hands over his business card and stresses again that Zack can totally call him, especially if he's got any dark secrets about the neighbors or anything else that he wants to unload. Zack is surprised and touched by the fact that Mike seems like a decent human being. His front door opens, and Paul spills out, muttering, "Thank God." He hugs Zack. "We'll talk later," Mike tells Paul. "Remember, any time," he says to Zack. "Seriously, I have been trying to get dirt on your family for ages. So, seriously? Call me."

Maisy's House of Ill Repute. The client? Rex Van de Kamp. Maisy's taking out all her dominatrix gear, while he sits around topless and waits for her to crack the whip. "I hear you moved back home," she says. He says that he had to -- he and KimberBree had troubles with the kids. Rex swears he'll move out eventually, but Maisy doesn't think Rex really wants to leave KimberBree at all. "You're obviously still in love with her," she says. Rex "never said [he] wasn't." Maisy wonders why they're getting a divorce, in that case. Rex can't believe Maisy's rooting for them to patch things up! She slaps her hand down on the dresser and he shuts up. "You know me. I'm just a romantic at heart. Scarves or cuffs?" she asks. "Up to you," he chirps. It's interesting that Rex allows his sexual dominatrix to make all his decisions, just as he allows KimberBree, his non-sexual dominatrix, to make all his decisions, and yet he pays for one and complains about the other. Physician, heal thyself. Rex blah blahs that he has certain needs. You know. Needs. "Boots, or stilettos?" Maisy asks. "Stilettos...please," Rex pants. Maisy straps them on and suggests that he just tell KimberBree what he's into. He won't "because she'd say no," he tells her. Maisy points out that she's said no to some things he's wanted from her. "That's different," says Rex. "I don't care if you reject me." Ah, very illuminating, Rex. Thank you. At this, Maisy snaps her fingers and he hits the floor. "Rex, trust me on this. Sometimes, when you love somebody, you've got to make sacrifices for them," she advises. "Love or passion. It's an awful choice to make," Rex says, his mouth all squashed against the carpet. The ACTUAL carpet. On the FLOOR. My God, you read all kinds of dirty double entendres into this thing. And it's almost Christmas! What's wrong with you? "Yes, it is," Maisy agrees, and steps on his bare back in her super-hot heels. Would it be bad of me to admit that I have some shoes very much like that? Maybe I should consider a change of careers. I do like to boss people. Anyway, Rex groans as Maisy works him over.