Liza With A Z -- whom we're now calling Jenny? -- does her violin solo to close out the now Juanita-less talent show, and biffs it. Gabi responds, of course, by hooting and making fun of her, until the Better Gay One explains that parenting is about how they're still proud of her anyway. Stupid Gabi has an epiphany and makes everybody sit down and watch Juanita flail around for a while; while it's sweet for what it is, don't be fooled into thinking we'll remember this moment or emotional growth next week.
(Mike and Susan's car won't start. It is fucking riveting.)
There are two matches for Susan's kidney, and guess who they are? Well, I can't tell you because of HIPAA, but this medical professional sure can! It's Bree and it's Beth. One, an alcoholic headcase who, like her friends, thinks only in terms of emotional blackmail. The other, pretty much a useless storehouse of body parts and organs with no human or life skills. Guess which one's going to shove her way to the front of the line and thus finally prove, as loudly as possible, that she is as good a person as Bono and Sting?
(Lynette and Tom go to a restaurant and wait for Renee to call and say that she has killed their baby. They hear a baby crying and instead of being sympathetic, like fucking normal people would, they talk angry shit about people with babies. Turns out it is their baby, of course, because Renee took their baby on a date. Lynette steals the baby and Renee runs around on a wild rampage looking for the baby; finally, they point and laugh at her and make sure she understands how fucking worthless she is. It is all quite droll.)
Beth: (Sitting in the saddest motel room, getting up the courage to blow her own head off.)
Bree: "Knock-knock! I just came by to tell you that you're a match for Susan's kidney, but you don't get to complete this one act that would give your life meaning."
Beth: "Okay, but all I've ever wanted to do was give. I was an unappreciated daughter of a mental case, and then the unappreciated wife of a fairly demanding crazy person. Just once, I would like to know that the excess of love and compassion in my heart actually had some kind of positive benefit for the world outside myself. I am the very illustration of the charity you're trying so hard to warp into your sickness."
Bree: "Once an addict, always an addict, basically."
Beth: "Cool. Have fun donating your kidney. I'm going to eat poison."
Bree: "If we were friends, or I were capable of noticing other people, your depressed affect and general desire to get cut up on for the sake of somebody who hates you might give me pause. But I don't think you understand: I have a date with Jesus now. He is going to be my boyfriend. My kidney boyfriend. And even though usually I am the cause of my problems -- usually by acting exactly like I'm acting right now, in fact -- nothing bad will ever happen to me again! Thanks, Kidney Jesus!"
Beth: "Well. That sounds nice for you."
Bree: "And that's what matters. Thanks for understanding!"