Down at the airport, Mrs. McCluskey is telling Lynette not to worry, and that she'll be keeping the four Ps safe while Lynette goes off to stalk Tom. Mrs. McC, by the way, is wearing a charmingly whimsical coat of pale, pale blue covered in ghostly white clouds. Heads up to all of you desperate geography students: according to Lynette, stalking to the "Always Turned On" Atlantic City requires a trip all the way "across the country" (meaning the fair state of Eagle is on the left coast). Also of note: apparently Fairview is big enough to warrant an airport sizable enough to require a whole bank of Arrival and Departure monitors. Lynette panics that maybe she's doing the wrong thing, stalking her husband; maybe she should "look the other way": "Lots of women can do that!" Mrs. McC: "But we both know that you're not one of them." Lynette, worried and scared, asks what she's actually going to do if she finds out her suspicions are true. Mrs. McC puts her hand on Lynette's cheek and calmly informs her that Mrs. McC owns a gun. Not to mention a taser And make way for the oboe, which toots the merry toot of the "elderly murderous eccentric (in coat of clouds)." Wow, Mrs. McC and Lynette make an awesome allegiance.

Julie, sitting on the couch at Danielle's mellow and very, very well-lit party, looks around and notices Bree's not there. She heads into the kitchen and finds Bree ferociously at work, icing a cake. Julie, who's surprisingly chipper (considering all her belongings just went up in smoke), asks Bree how she's doing, and Bree reports that she is FINE!!! Julie: "It's just that people have been asking about the cake, and you've been icing it for over an hour." Bree, confused, says that she's not at all sure what's wrong with her. Julie nicely suggests that maybe it's Bree's lack of sleep: she and Susan could hear that Bree was "up all night." Bree mutters that the frosting keeps coming out "too thick," and Julie gamely suggests that people aren't really going to care if it's perfect or not. Bree, like she's just been slapped in the face: "People care about details! Some day, when Danielle looks back, I want her to remember how perfect her caked looked and how hard her mother worked to make her happy. THIS CAKE IS A SYMBOL OF MY LOVE!" And while I believe that cake does equal love, and vice versa, I can't help thinking that Bree's gotten her priorities a little mixed up in her head. Also, she's totally, revoltingly nuts, and it's obvious that she's heading for a terrible, terrible fall. And yet: nice seersucker apron with flower-accented pockets! With her bare hand, Bree claws a layer of frosting off the cake, and Julie, who's clearly begun to sense the depths of Bree's crazy, backs away from the darkness.