We open at the house of Maisy Gibbons, whom you may remember from the Lynette Throws Down With The Bossy, Perfect Mother at Posh Academy and Ends Up Finding Out That Ritalin Will Solve All Her Problems When She Gets In Over Her Head Trying to Prove a Point plotline. Maisy brushes her hair, as MAVO explains that Maisy spent her mornings running errands, and her evenings washing dishes and helping with her children's homework. "But her afternoons? Well, they were spent in the company...of men. Frustrated, misunderstood, lonely men, willing to pay money to feel a little less lonely. And Maisy Gibbons? Was willing to help them?" Is she, MAVO? It would be a little less confusing if you didn't end all your lines on an up note. Oh, I guess she WAS willing to help them, because it turns out that Maisy Gibbons is an, er, woman of the afternoon, so to speak. A prostitute. A hooker. A call girl. A whore.
In her bedroom...after...Maisy turns to talk to a john. As he zips his pants, he wonders if anyone else knows about "her little hobby": "Is it hard, keeping a secret like this?" Who is this guy? He's like the Barbara Walters of johns. Maisy makes the bed and explains that it would be tougher if it were just her secret. "But the way I see it, I keep the secret of every man who comes to me," she drawls. Was Maisy Southern the last time we saw her? Because this accent feels new. ["No, she wasn't, and Sharon Lawrence seems to forget from line to line whether Maisy is Southern, too." -- Wing Chun] Maisy explains that she finds keeping other people's secrets "absolutely exhilarating." She explains that, a few years ago, her husband lost his job and they had to give up their country club membership: "And then one day, one of my club friends asked why she hadn't seen me around lately. And I told her we couldn't afford it anymore. She wiped it off like it was nothing, but I saw her. With that look in her eye, that look of pity." Maisy angrily plumps one of her bed pillows. Barbara Walters offers that Maisy's friend was probably just trying to be nice, and wonders if pity is really so bad. Maisy shrugs: "When they say something, they are being supportive. But when they say nothing, it's because they think you're so far gone you're never coming back." Standing under an enormous portrait of Maisy and the entire Gibbons clan, Barbara fixes his tie. "Gotcha," he drawls. "So, a few months later, I started my little hobby, and the most wonderful thing happened. This woman's husband became one of my regulars," Maisy says. "Wow," Barbara says dryly. They're interrupted by the doorbell, and Maisy asks Barbara to go out the back. See, that's her next appointment. "It's the husband of the woman I was telling you about," she says, gathering up her sheets. Man, she must have a LOT of laundry. That's one of the reasons I would make a bad whore: "Jesus. I am totally out of good sheets. Well, Barbara Walters is going to have to make do with the flannel ones with cowboys on them." ["I bet there are some johns who'd pay extra to have their 'appointments' on sheets like that." -- Wing Chun]