Detective Chuck Vance: "I honestly thought you were going to murder those two little girls, like you told me you were going to. Since you didn't, can I ask you on a date?"
Bree: "Yes, you may."
Detective Chuck Vance: "Then maybe I will. At a later time. Peace!"

Bree: "Carlos, thanks for covering for me. After all, that crime -- which wasn't a crime, never occurred, and with which I was utterly unconnected -- could have really bit me in the perimenopause."
Carlos: "First of all, 'peri' my ass. Second of all, I did it for Andrew. We're going 'camping' next weekend and I don't feel like smooth-talking him any more than I have to. Third of all, you can still get the fuck out of my house."
Bree: "Actually this is my house, but I know what you mean."

Bree: "Gabi, I'm sorry but you have to move out."
Gabi: "What? Why?"
Bree: "Because men are always right. I forgot for a second."
Gabi: "Can we at least have phone sex?"
Bree: "...Fine. But only right before church, so it doesn't count."
Gabi: "But that's not how... Sure, fine. Whatever."

SUSAN & FELICIA

Susan: "Felicia! Try these brownies you just poisoned!"
Felicia: "I'm afraid not. Ever since I chopped off my own fingers, I've lost the taste for chocolate. The Fairview medical community said that's where your taste buds are located."
Susan: "I must insist! I have a nut allergy that directly contradicts previous continuity!"
Felicia: "Fine."
Susan: "How do they taste?"
Felicia: "Like I just got poisoned. I gotta go."

(Felicia barfs in her purse. It's real weird to watch. At least she is dedicated to her ridiculous urn-chatting cause.)

LYNETTE & RENEE & TOM

Lynette: "Sorry I had to go over your head about the professional business we both own and operate."
Renee: "Sorry I had to go over your head because you're a mental case."
Lynette: "What do you mean?"

(Tom opens his office door to reveal a carnival carousel of giant penises thrusting up and down in time to the music. Most of them are African-American, because that's how straight guys are.)