Desperate Housewives
Not While I'm Around

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Not While I'm Around

Late, late one night. Gabby gets dropped off at home by a bunch of laughing, pleasantly rich-looking people I've never seen before. She lets herself into her dark, dark house, and there, in the dim shadows, she spies a suspect-looking figure. Gabby chucks her purse at the apparition and squeals, but then she realizes that it's only a creepy-looking mannequin wearing a hideous dress (purple, high-halter neckline with a Starfleet collar and three lame rhinestone buttons). Nonetheless, she's still terrified -- it's true, mannequins are almost creepier than live intruders, plus that dress is truly hideola -- so Gabby click-clacks across the street, wakes up Carlos, and commands him to come over to her place for a sleepover. Carlos gets a "sexytime" sparkle in his eyes. Cut to...

...Carlos sitting on Gabby's couch, sighing that he "hates [his] life." Gabby hands him a pillow and a blanket: no sexy-sexy for Carlos. Boy, for a rich house in a rich neighborhood, that is the shortest, saddest couch that ever was. So Carlos is there purely as a guard dog, because Gabby is "scared to death of this maniac." Apparently, the giver of pink roses has graduated from admirer to stalker; breaking into someone's house to plant a mannequin in a matronly dress can do that to a person. Carlos wonders why Gabby doesn't just call the fuzz, but Gabby doesn't think her story is all that sympathetic, seeing as the dress is apparently worth $6000. What? That said, I'm not sure why the price of the stalker's gift makes any difference; B&E is B&E. Then again, Fairview cops aren't exactly the most effective force in the land -- the crimes (murder, arson, assault) that go unsolved on Wisteria Lane alone are enough to make this town one of the most unsafe places to live in the galaxy. Carlos wonders what, exactly, Gabby wants him to do if her potential assailant reappears. Gabby: "When he breaks in and starts hacking you up with his machete, your screams will wake me up and I'll be able to escape." Aw.

Still late, late that night. Lynette sits on the kitchen table, chugging a glass of wine. Are we supposed to be worried about Lynette's drinking, maybe? Tom comes home, and Lynette remarks that his arrival is well timed, seeing as she just "put the kids to sleep." Wow, the Ps (plus K) have a mighty late bedtime if it meshes with Gabby's post-nightclub return. Lynette makes a lascivious comment about how Tom still has time to "tuck" her in, by which she clearly means tuck his penis into her vagina. They suck face for a few forevers, but then Tom applies the brakes: they need to keep clothed until his printer arrives with the proofs for his menu. Okay, we really need to give that pizza place a name. Cystic Pizza? Pizza Gut? Ass Hat Pizza? Scavomino's? Hmm. Anyway, it turns out the printer already came by with the menu. Tom immediately gets all tense: Lynette didn't peek at the menu, did she? Who, Nosy "The Nose" Lynette? Ah, but she did. And you know something? She loved it: "The font, the color, everything!" They recommence tonguing. But then Lynette interrupts to ask when, exactly, she'll get to see the actual restaurant. Tom: "How about two weeks?" Lynette: "You open in two weeks." That's the thing: Tom doesn't want Lynette to see the place before it opens because he's convinced that she's totally going to offer some shitty "tips and suggestions" that are just going to make Tom do his "sad, crushed dreams" face. Lynette: "You think? Because I just saw a takeout menu with a six-digit phone number and I kept that to myself." Tom, in his very best "wounded teenager" voice: "SEE! There it is! That snarky, know-it-all attitude." Lynette? "Snarky"? Because she "pointed out one glaring mistake?" Tom: "That's it. You're banned from the opening." Lynette stomps off to bed, and clueless Tom calls after her, "So...we're not having sex?" And then Lynette, in what is possibly the funniest line ever used on this show, says, "Hey, you banned me from your opening..." As in, he isn't getting anywhere near her opening tonight. Her lady part opening. You know what would make a really great tattoo? On you, not me? A big banner that reads "Grand Opening" right over your privates. There could be balloons, too. And streamers. Just a thought.

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Desperate Housewives

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