And with that, we return to the present. Orson is still, still, still falling, until -- surprise! -- he bounces off some tree branches and lands, safe and more or less sound, next to a bunch of doctors and EMTs, who race to his side and report that he still has a pulse. He also has a number of hilariously fake-looking wounds randomly distributed across his face, which are I guess supposed to be lash-marks from his run-in with the tree but which actually look more like the purposeful cuts found distributed across a high-school sophomore girl's t-shirt, circa Flashdance. MAVO reports, with that particular smug tone she uses to deliver news that we're supposed to find wowfully surprising, that Orson will indeed live to see another day. Credits!
We return to a "morning wakeup" montage. Edie blinks into the brightness of dawn's early light, Old Cat Lady awakens to the alarmingly loud purr of a handsome grey kitty, and Susan's eyes flutter open to the smell of a fresh cup of coffee brewed for her by Ian (those two sure are in love...apparently...whatever). Then the montage turns to Gabby. MAVO: "Yes, there are many things a housewives likes to wake up to, but an unexpected guest in her bed is not one of them." Oh right, the patented Mary Alice love of beginning every sentence with "Yes," combined with her distaste for contractions. Yes, it all reminds me of how much I did not miss her during my all-too-brief hiatus from the show. Gabby's "unexpected guest" turns out to be Zana, who is sitting next to her bed, reading the paper, wearing nothing but boxers. Guys? On a scale of 1 to 10, how worried should I be that I have no problem whatsoever with the naked chestibule of Cody Kasch? Ka-ching! (How about that "Kasch"/"Ka-ching" thing -- I should at least be worried about that, right?) Gabby is despicably hung-over and confused to find herself wearing nothing but a little white slip. Zana gleefully explains that she and he did the dirty last night; points to a condom wrapper sitting artfully by the bedside as proof. What is this, Chapter 4 of Trapped In The Closet? Oh my god, a rubber, rubber, rubber, indeed. Gabby races off to the bathroom to hurl, and Zana helpfully volunteers to hold her hair back -- an offer that she rather rudely declines. I can't help thinking about what a pervy-good time Zana must have had setting up this little charade. The very idea of him disrobing a skunk-drunk Gabby makes my stomach crawl -- you just know he took his sweet time, too. And pictures! And rubbings...lots and lots of commemorative rubbings.