Alone with her mother, Lynette tries to pretend that she doesn't need her mother's help, pointing out that Stella herself had breast cancer while raising three kids all on her own. Stella: "I was not alone. I had you." Tom returns from CARRYING PENNY ALL THE WAY UPSTAIRS (pfft!), and Stella tells him all about how thirteen-year-old Lynette ran the entire house while Stella was "curled up in a ball, puking [her] guts out." Lynette: "Well, that's what you get when you mix chemo and vodka gimlets." With "Plucky Old Broad" violins plucking underneath, Stella declares that no matter how hard Lynette tries to pick a fight, Mama Stella is here to stay for a nice, long, three-month infinity visit. And suddenly, the backstory behind Lynette's three seasons of bad behavior comes painfully into focus, and the sight is so murkily disturbing, Marc Cherry sends us into commercial to give us time to process it.
And sit back and let the strained strains of "Gimme Some Lovin'" wail you into the frantic spot for the doomed License to Wed! Dear Robin Williams: Please, just stop. Stop before somebody (no, Jim Halpert, no!) gets hurt. Put down the wacky voices, walk away from the zany faces, and say na-no, na-no to the shimmy dancing. It's over. You can let go now. We release you!
Carlos has just finished depositing his sperm into Edie's Pill-infertilized soils, and the second he finishes the job, he props her legs into the air -- he does not cuddle, he does not bother with sweet talk, he does not collect two hundred dollars. Edie mistakes the gesture as an attempt to get back in line for another ride on Magic Mountain, but no, this is just a fertility-boosting trick he picked up in his extensive baby-making research. "Look, you're no spring chicken," he oh-so-kindly tells her, "and those eggs aren't exactly farm-fresh." Edie starts to object -- because really, what isn't sexier and more flattering than having your own rotten eggs thrown in your face? -- but when Carlos starts cooing about how it'll all be worth it when their "beautiful, beautiful baby" pops out, she reluctantly agrees. While she's lying there with her legs up the air like she's doing the upside-down bicycle move they used to make us do in gym class, she asks him to go get her a beer. Carlos happily informs her that alcohol is out, too, but only until she finishes breast-feeding. He hustles off to get her a "nice herbal tea" instead, and her face falls. Boy, deceiving a man into thinking you're trying to have his baby just so he'll fall in love with you is hard work. And who wants to work if there isn't a row of reward beers refreshing you along the way? Not Edie.