And while we're talking about retina-scarring May-December encounters: Lynette arrives at the door of the last remaining liquor license holdout. It's Harry Gaunt, played by Richard Herd, an actor who has been in every single television show ever made, so you've seen him before for sure; he's basically a poor man's Karl Malden. Mr. Gaunt immediately reveals himself to be a bit of a perv, all "I always have time for a pretty girl" and then staring at Lynette's cleavage, which, to be fair, is on pretty high alert in this scene. Gaunt blusters that he doesn't want a bunch of "noisy jackasses puking on [his] doorstep," a scenario he's convinced a liquor license will bring, and Lynette does a weird sort of Marilyn Monroe half-moan, "Cummmawwwwnnn," leaning over and giving him a nice view of the promised land. But he keeps his heels dug in, and his eyes on her prize(s). Lynette calls him on his ogling, actually clicking at him like she's signaling a horse. Harry: "I know, I don't mean to be rude. It's just that my showgirl days are a while ago and I can't remember the last time I laid eyes on a beautiful woman's bosom." Lynette, with the "Let's Make A Deal" harpsichord swelling underneath: "Really? Well, what if I were to very briefly refresh your memory?" She drops the petition down in front of Gaunt. Cut to...

...Lynette buttoning up her blouse and Harry frantically signing his John Hancock. Which...wow, sounds just filthy, I know. But he really is just signing the petition. And when he hands it to her, he merrily says that the trade was "completely worth it." Which would be funny, or maybe sweet, if it wasn't all so disturbingly gross.

House of the Rising Crazy. Through the window, cheery Alma spots Bree walking over to the house, and in the last few seconds before Bree's arrival, she scrambles to get her bird, Baby, to say something. Wait, is this the same Baby bird?