Previously: all last week's hijinks; plus there's a new unexplained dead body in Fairview; Lynette promised to stand behind Tom in sickness and in health, through good times and bad, and whatever foolhardy idea Tom came up with for his next career.
Today's MAVO theme is "The Art Of Sabotage." To illustrate her point, MAVO tours us through a nice sampling of suburban underhandedness. The bitter overweight woman who tempts her similarly-overweight-yet-on-a-diet friend with a freshly baked bundt cake. The wife who cuts the cable just as all her husband's friends pile in for the big game. Mrs. McCluskey phoning in a complaint to the "city's zoning department" about a neighbor's fantastically huge pig. And down at "El Royale Motel," Bree is trying to sweet-talk the manager, Gus, into letting her pay a surprise visit to the room of Mr. Falati (né Fallutti, per my hardness of hearing of last week, one thousands apologies). Gus resists until Bree smilingly puts the screws in: was Gus not aware that the girl in there with Mr. Falati is a tender and sweet seventeen years of age? Gus, not at all interested in getting tangled up in a statutory-rape case, grabs the room key.
Outside Room 17, Gus questions Bree about whether she's packing, citing the "new carpet" he just laid in the room. Bree, standing there with her scary forceful smile and ramrod posture and little salmon-hued cardigan, assures Gus that she's merely there to reason with the May-December lovebirds. Gus shakes his head and unlocks the door. Bree goes inside, and much squawking can be heard -- lots of "how could you"s and "what makes you think"s. Mid-storm, Bree lets herself back outside -- using a tissue to protect herself with whatever nastiness covers the knob -- and Gus asks her how it went. Bree smiles and assures him that all is well. Then, reaching out to give Gus's arm a squeeze, she compliments him on the carpet in the room. Welcome back, Season 1 Bree. Your prim and absurd politeness and hype detail-oriented-ness were sorely missed.
Next, MAVO serves up a montage of TV dinners. From a POV from inside the microwave, we see Julie, then Carlos, then a nose-picking Parker, then Edie each removing their cardboard dinners. It may, or may not, be of interest to know that the boards were on fire about the fact that not one person in this montage used potholders to remove their sad, sad dinners from within the microwaves. And while I actually do use my bare hands to remove dinners just like these, I do so only with the heels of my hands. And Edie, Julie, Carlos, Parker -- they're just grabbing those molten things without even a wince. So, with a nod to Potholdergate, I do declare this montage a true missed opportunity. They could have gone all Stanislavsky on those prop TV dinners' asses, performed a Method meltdown about the burning, oh the terrible burning. But this is Desperate Housewives, the land where only the STDs burn.