Thank. God. The Happy Fun House. Thank the Lord our God. Lindsay's in bed, holding Gus, who's a tad bit fussy, but so cute. Lindsay calls TLFKAM and tells her that Gus is in one of his "moods." TLFKAM grins that she remembers his moods. St. L. says, "You're the one with the magic touch; would you mind?" Contrived. Contrived. Contrived. TLFKAM's like, what, over the phone? St. L. says she's desperate, but not as desperate as the writing staff. TLFKAM clears her throat and starts to sing, "I Say a Little Prayer for You." Gus quiets down, fascinated by her voice. The song starts to get to TLFKAM, though, and she has to stop after the first verse and chorus. She asks whether it worked, and Lindsay giggles, "Like a charm. He's still the only one that appreciates your singing." Hee! TLFKAM says she has a lovely voice! Lindsay's like, yeah, uh, not. Snicker. TLFKAM laughingly agrees with her. Lindsay thanks her for the assist and says goodnight, letting her say goodnight to the baby, who is seriously tugging on my fallopian tubes.
Back to the fundraiser, which has turned into Bablyon Uptown. The suits have turned into HDGBs. Just, you know, pulled off their jackets and shirts and are boogy-ing away, because that's what you do when you've paid hundreds of dollars to attend a posh fundraiser. Brian's making out with the waiter in a corner. Jackie's shaking her groove thing in the middle of Suits Three, Four, and Five. Another waiter makes his way through the dancing masses with a shrimp cocktail poised perfectly on a tray. He trips. And falls. Right into Emmett and his cute little pink suit. Now it looks like it's covered with blood. So, Queer as Folk has just reached an all-time low for tastelessness. I'm sure TPTB are very proud. Brian leads the waiter, who doesn't seem particularly worried about getting fired, up the stairs. Mini-D tries to stop him, but Brian just smirks, "Don't worry. I'm just giving him a tour of your lovely home." Mini-D doesn't protest any further, because as I've pointed out many a time, he has no balls. He just apologizes to Demon some more. Demon tells him not to worry about it; no one's complaining. Across the room, Debbie laughs with the Senator, "I say, kick those Republicans right in the balls, except they haven't got any!" Mini-D is horrified some more. Demon drinks some more. Mini-D rushes over to the two women and asks Debbie to "stop monopolizing the Senator's time." Debbie: "I'm sorry, Diane." Mini-D's like, " 'Diane'?!" The Senator gushes that Debbie is a "remarkable woman! I attend a lot of fundraisers, and don't get me wrong, everyone means well, but they're usually very boring. But not this one! I have to tell you, I'm having a ball!"