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.
Eventually, Bree manages to get the cake frosted, and she comes out from the kitchen with candles and crazy eyes blazing. The teens all sing the "Happy Birthday" dirge, and Bree sets the cake down on the table. But then, holy shit, she notices that one of the candles isn't lit! Bree screams "STOP!" The singing crumbles to an uncomfortable silence. Danielle tries to get her mother to calm down, but Bree's calm setting seems to have completely worn away, and instead of calming down, she wind sprints back to the kitchen. (Why not just use one of the lit candles to remedy the problem? I don't know.) Danielle to Julie: "Welcome to my own private hell." And then? Some suicidal blond girl named "Barbie" walks right up to the cake and swipes off a hunk of frosting with her finger! And then she eats it! Bree, all smiles, returns from the kitchen with her little igniter; then she looks down at the damaged cake and all hell breaks loose. Seriously, if Danielle thought she knew what "private hell" was before, she had no idea. With murder clearly in mind, Bree looks around the room, taking in all the guests' stricken faces. She starts pointing at people, yelling, "Was it you? Or YOU?" Danielle tells Bree that she's being "embarrassing," but Bree is in a place where words hold no meaning. Then Bree's crosshairs land on an unfortunately large girl and she says: "YOU. You look like a girl who enjoys her frosting." Unforgivable! The girl looks like she's been slapped. Danielle, mortified, tries again to get her mom to see reason, and Barbie even tries to step in, but Bree is too busy trying to smell frosting on the larger girl's breath. Totally panicked now, the girl screams that the offending frosting-poker is Barbie. BARBIE! Bree spins and unleashes the full heat of her fury onto Barbie. Barbie jumps back, somehow bringing the cake with her. As the cake hits the ground -- shlermp -- Bree downshifts to full Joan Crawford mode: "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!! Now it's ruined, EVERYTHING IS RUINED!" Danielle runs off in tears, and Bree softly announces to the room that they shouldn't worry about the cake; she'll "clean it up later." All Danielle's friends, who clearly are not at all worried about the logistics of the cleanup, stare after Bree, as she walks out of the room with chin held high. Oh man, I actually kind of hate Bree right now.