And, speaking of which. Ruth walks out the front door in her gardening clothes and notices a big-ass gift bouquet of some kind sitting on the stoop. She takes it back in the house, where she once more wishfully observes, "It must be a late wedding present." There's a note addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. George Sibley," and Ruth notes, "I like the sound of that." Unfortunately, the package does not engage all of her senses equally, and she opens a cookie tin to reveal what Ruth this time colorfully terms "excrement." Claire enters and reads the note again as Ruth terms this event a "catastrophe of the highest order." But George believes that his enemy is from "the controversial field of geology" rather than one of his sixteen ex-wives or the scores of children who mysteriously refuse to talk to him. When Claire raises an eyebrow at George's suggestion that geology is in any way controversial, George retorts, "Oil, Claire. Oil." And, coming from the actual fossil fuel, that is quite a threat. His dickishness is so far nice and subtle. He tells Ruth that he doesn't want to give a reaction to whoever sent it, positing about Ruth but in Claire's direction, "Maybe it's one of your old lovers." Ruth yells back, but George snaps his fingers theatrically and suggests, "The Greek one!" Look, George. Ruth is very protective about her longtime relationship with Agamemnon, and I'd expect you to be a little more mature about it, seeing as you've been around longer than he has. Claire tries to take her leave with the parting shot "He was Russian," and George brandishes the tin at Claire and asks her if she'll throw it in the dumpster. "I think I'll let you do that George," she tosses back. Man. Good thing they didn't try and regift that thing before they opened it.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Makeover! Arthur stands on one of those pedestal things while a tailor fidgets with his cuffs. David and Arthur banter in a salsa/seltzer kind of way about whether the suit is "charcoal" or "chocolate," and when Arthur retreats to the dressing room, Keith emerges from another corner of the store toting some goods on hangers. Boys' day out! Keith asks if they should buy Arthur a whole new wardrobe in what he calls "a Queer Eye for the Gay Guy kind of way, and David responds that he doesn't think Arthur is gay. Keith starts to head toward the dressing room, but David holds up a striped sweater and tells Keith, "You'd look good in this." No, he would not. He would look like a walking pride parade. Keith concurs with me, shooting back, "I need new clothes for work. Not gay ski weekend at Monmouth." Good point. People on this show don't partake of leisure activities unless they end in guilty and unfulfilling sex, and that sweater is way too heavy for that. Keith hits his dressing room, and Arthur emerges from his, thus stoking the constant swirl of rumors that Keith and Arthur are, in fact, the same person. David tells Arthur he'll be buying him the suit, and Arthur smiles ghoulishly and responds, "If I had a father, this is the kind of thing he'd do for me." But you don't. Because you were engineered in a Petri dish.