Lynette! I forgot about Lynette. She's home from work, and one of the Ps is waiting for her as she steps out of her car. "Mommy, Mommy!" he screams. (By the way, I know of no kid that actually greets a mother this way. Another fake kid-speak fave? The word "sis.") Little P is fired up because Mr. Mom Tom has found a rat! Lynette walks into the house and it is spotless. Her plan has worked! The rat itself didn't fare quite as well, what with getting smashed to death by Mom Tom and his shovel. "You killed it?" she gasps. Tom: "Well...not with the first blow." Lynette looks totally surprised to hear about the rat's sticky end. Really, Lynette? The potential for rat bloodshed never ever entered your calculations?
Later that night, Lynette takes out the trash and delivers a nice little speech to the rat corpse lying out there in the trash can. She tells it that she's sorry for what happened with the shovel: "Neither of us saw that coming." Honestly? Seriously? Anyway, she thanks the rat for helping her marriage, which she says is a big accomplishment for a rat. How much do live rats go for these days? Ten dollars? Twenty? Either way: cheapest marriage counselor EVER! The rat corpse, which I'm pretty sure was hoping for a different kind of thanks -- maybe something along the lines of a $7000 boob job -- remains sullenly mum.
Betty's sitting a psychiatrist's office, spinning a tale of woe. Apparently, she once had a husband who beat her savagely, but she never did anything about it until her son spilled a soda on the carpet and her husband, Virgil, knocked him onto the floor and started kicking him. Betty ran to protect her child, but she was too late. The psychiatrist asks what happened to the boy, and Betty tells him that her son died. Her delivery here is very sad and very believable. Huh. Anyway, she's been having trouble sleeping lately: she ran across some old baby pictures of her son the previous week, which has triggered unbearable nightmares: "The last doctor I saw said that I needed to let go of my guilt; then I would start sleeping again. Of course, that is easier said than done. And I am getting...so tired." The doctor readily hands out a perscription for a sleeping aid, saying that he hopes her husband was punished for what he did. "Oh," Betty says, "there was retribution. I made sure of that."
Bree, wearing a smart and, yes, black suit, is fixing to leave the house. Phyllis is busy cleaning the stove. It's hard to imagine that the stove actually needs cleaning. In Bree's house? Phyllis asks where Bree's headed off to, and Bree tells her she's going to the lawyer's to go over some of the details of Rex's will. Then Bree takes a deep breath: "Phyllis, obviously I'm just mortified over slapping you. I've just been in a weird place since Rex's death. That's no excuse...I'm very, very sorry." Phyllis: "No need to apologize. You're family. All is forgiven." Bree looks so relieved, and Phyllis says, "It's been a difficult time for all of us. I totally understand. Now go! You don't want to be late for your...meeting about Rex's will." Phyllis seems amazingly sincere all the way up to the point of encouraging Bree to go, at which point her tone turns vaguely menacing: clearly she thinks she should be a part of any meeting about Rex's will. The second Bree leaves, Phyllis rushes over to the phone and looks at a list. "Pick up tux" is crossed off, and so are "Call florist" and "Betty Applewhite"...I guess this is Bree's funeral to-do list? "Insurance -- Joe Flannery 555-0149" is at the bottom of the list, not yet crossed off. Phyllis dials the number and asks to speak to "someone about the death benefits of Rex Van de Kamp." On the other end, Mr. Flannery looks extremely put out -- I'm guessing that Bree's been calling him non-stop. He tells Phyllis that they've already spoken to Rex's wife, and that they're moving just as quickly as they can. Oh, but that's not why Mommy Phyllis called! Phyllis: "Are you aware that my daughter-in-law has a boyfriend?" Joe: "I'm listening."