Bree and Orson are packing up Gloria's things into cardboard boxes. (See, Stephen Sondheim? We need a song about BOXES!) Gloria sits on the bed sulking. They're sending her off to a "lovely retirement community, it's [their] Christmas gift to [her]." Back to Witch Mountain for Gloria! Gloria, her voice heavy with fake tears: "So you're exiling me, cutting me off from my new grandchildren?" Bree: "And that's our gift to them." Bree heads off with her box, and Gloria gets in Orson's face and threatens to tell Bree all his secrets. Ah, but he's already told her everything! Except for the stuff he hasn't. But he reminds Gloria that she has her own deadly secrets. "And if you want them kept," he tells her, all manly, "you'll keep mine." He leaves with his box, and Gloria pulls out a cell phone. Whoever it is she's calling answers in three-tenths of a second, so this person must have been really waiting for the call. "I have some bad news, she's taking him back. Meet me on the corner in an hour. We have to deal with this." Whaaaaat?
Nighttime. Art's home from the hospital, and he's packing up his car with BOXES. Lynette, who is a complete idiot, comes over by herself, at night, to apologize for something so bad that any attempt at apology is laughable: you see, it turns out Rebecca the elf sister died. You know, I think I would have brought Tom with me if I were her. Or maybe left Art to his grief and made a public apology, like in the paper, a gesture that might have a slim chance of coming off as something beyond just a selfish plea for forgiveness. But anyway, Lynette comes over and says, "I heard about Rebecca on the news, if there's anything we can do to help?" God, Lynette! You're the last person he'd ask for help. He saved your life, and you repaid him by breaking into his house and spreading rumors that incited the neighbors to throw rocks at him! Art, his voice just drenched in sarcasm: "Wow. You must be feeling really guilty." Lynette is so wrapped up in her need to feel better about being so awful that she doesn't pick up on the sarcasm. She walks up even closer to him and babbles her agreement about how very "terrible" she feels. Art looks at her with a creepy detachment that is profoundly menacing. Um, Lynette? Now might be the time to exit stage right, even. He stares at her some more, very much not forgiving her, and she finally realizes she just does not belong there, and turns to go. But then he stops her with a friendly "hey!" And here comes the really bad part! For second it looks as though Art is this very sad, lonely person who really needs to talk, even if it's only to this awful woman who's totally betrayed him, he just has to unload his grief onto someone -- he manages to convey all that with just a look and some body language, and he looks so sympathetic. But then! He turns that sympathetic look on its ear, creepy-style, and smiles and tells Lynette that he really should be thanking her. You see, his sister always kept him in check, because he loved her too much to disappoint her. But now that she's dead, there's nothing standing in this pedophile's way. Yeah, he's going to move to a new town and let his monster loose. And guess who those kids he destroys will have to thank? Why, Lynette of course. Wow. Just...wow. Throughout this whole confession, Art has a small, devilish smile playing across his face, and it just makes my spine collapse with squeam. Matt Roth is goooood.