Back in the now, Danielle is still asleep, and Matthew's still watching her, but this time, the "Looming Serial Killer" violins strum at a fevered pitch!

Flashback: Eight Years Ago. Wisteria Lane's greeting committee -- Bree (wearing a short white tennis skirt and pale peach tennis sweater, carrying her ubiquitous basket of muffins), Susan (hair back to normal, a basket of flowers in her hand), and giantess Mary Alice (carrying a bottle of wine) -- walk up to the Scavo house to find the newly-moved-in Tom and Lynette in the middle of a screamer of a fight. Dead MAVO tells us that the ladies instantly knew that Lynette was going to their friend, if only because they could see (via this demonstration of her fierce battling capabilities) that she would make an unpleasant enemy. Good call! The ladies nervously offer to come back later, but Lynette is thrilled by the timing of their arrival; she needs impartial judges to weigh in on her fight with Tom. Lynette, with true Lynette-brand craziness, lays it out for them: what if, say, your husband begged you to have a baby, and you agreed, even though it meant risking your career, and then, when you went in for the ultrasound, a twin heartbeat was detected: "And then, and only then, does your husband tell you that twins run in his family!...Do I not deserve to punish this man severely?" And yet, isn't it true that any twins-making capabilities are passed down on the mother's side, from lady ancestors who also have a knack for laying eggs in multiples? Susan: "Well, actually I think that twins are genetically determined by the mother." Exactly! Wow, Susan and I just had a mind meld. That's not a good sign, is it? Lynette, to Susan: "What are you, a scientist?" Ha! Susan, shrinking: "I write children's books." Bree sputters something about coming back at a better time, but then Tom begs them to stay. He hugs Lynette and says some soothing words about how maybe they should try not to "freak out" the new neighbors, and slowly Lynette thaws. Bashfully, she tells the ladies, "I'm sorry that you saw my panic attack. I won't let it happen again, especially since this is my last pregnancy." Double-ha. Tom: "Right, you're the boss, I'm just your love slave." Ladies, collectively: "Awww." "Don't encourage him," Lynette smiles. Tom: "Honey, clearly are new neighbors can sense that you have been gifted with a phenomenal husband."