On the operating table, Susan is still smiling gigantically. Dr. Ron asks her how her drugs are working out, and Susan says, floatily, "Super-duper!" And then, super-duper-unfortunately, Ron launches in with his preamble to "love," about how, with regard to all the "corny stuff" he said about holding Susan's "heart in [his] hands" and so on...well, what he meant to say was: "I love you." And then Susan, with a huge, angelic smile, says, "Thank you! I love...Mike!" Nurse Negligence, who's sorting clamps and things nearby, drops her tray as Dr. Ron asks Susan what she means by "Mike." Susan, all slow and weird like an old hippie: "Mike is looooooooove." Dr. Ron, agitated now, turns to all the people in the operating room and asks, "Who the hell is Mike?" Nurse N: "I don't know, but she's married to a guy named Karl." Haha! Susan, totally oblivious to the uproar, just keeps saying "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey" as the anesthesiologist puts the mask on her. Nurse N, crying now, keens to Dr. Ron, "Why are you always falling in love with skanks? You beautiful, beautiful man!" Just then, Dr. Arm comes in. "Okay! We ready to go here?" Dr. Ron: "Yeah, sure. Let's cut this bitch open." Wow!
Bree is pouring all her wine down the drain when Andrew walks in and asks her what she's doing. She informs him that she's preparing for the hearing Andrew's lawyer has informed her is scheduled to happen four weeks hence. Andrew: "Oh, I get it! So you're going to pretend to be sober for the judge?" Bree cheerfully denies that there will be any pretending going on. In fact, she's going to her "first AA meeting tomorrow night." She grabs two more bottles from the fridge. Both bottles are already open: the lead foil has been removed, and the corks are sitting high, so clearly they've been pulled and reinserted. Wow, so that's how serious a drinker Bree is: she comes home from the wine merchant store, lines up her dozen bottles for the week(end?), opens them up, one by one, with one of those ultra-fancy Lever Style Rabbit Corkscrews, and then gently replaces the corks so they're ultra-easy to open. That way, when the juices really start to flow, she won't be delayed one second when she makes that transition from Bottle 2 to Bottle 3. Bree: "Of course, I picked [an AA meeting] in the worst part of town so I won't run in to anyone we know, which of course means I will." Hey, there's the Bree I remember! Andrew asks what "that's going to prove." And Bree wheels around, her auburn flip flying, and lays this right on him: "Perception is reality, Andrew. And if people perceive me to have a drinking problem, then I do. And I certainly don't want some idiotic judge using my hobby as an excuse to make you rich. So I'm simply going to give up my wine and become a recovering alcoholic." Andrew, sounding less sure, tells her it'll never work -- that she's certainly going to show up in court all drunk. "Oh, Andrew," Bree chides chillingly, "you don't think I love you enough to give up alcohol?"