The man, a balding Gandolfini-ish type but with much, much less HBO screen time -- let's call him Tony Alto -- kisses the woman -- let's call her "toast" -- and she plot-develops, "Happy anniversary, baby." They dirty talk about how she wants him "all over [her]," which is scantly a challenge, seeing as he's pretty much all over me right now, too, and he and I aren't even in the same state. She climbs out of the hot tub with a coy "Let's go shower," and he leans back -- BECAUSE HE'S ABOUT TO HAVE A HEART ATTACK! -- and tells her, "Give me a minute." She grabs a towel and runs toward the house as he seemingly begins falling asleep, a common problem that has plagued all people who...KEE-RASH. Tony Alto wakes up with a start when he hears a scream and said crashing sound from inside the house, and he looks up with concern, asking, "Annie?" He jumps out of the hot tub and begins running across the grass, his big flabby ass momentarily driving out my continuing belief that he was going to slip on the grass and that she was going to walk out of the kitchen and be all, "Honey? Tony? I...aaaaaah!" But just when you're convinced they're going to zag, they zug. Tony reaches the house with increasingly concerned shouts of, "Annie?" He runs through the back door because his wife just died in a scenario that hasn't been played out so dramatically since I saw it in Final Destination, and with one final scream of, "Oh, my god, Annie!" we fade to white and learn that Anne Marie Thornton made it from 1966-2004 without ever having the chance to tell anyone she couldn't goddamn stand it when people called her "Annie."
Keith "Celeste Is More" Charles sits at the kitchen table with David "It's Been A Bad Day/ Please Don't Take A Picture" Fisher, enjoying a big, steaming bowl of Clunky-Exposition-O's, the nutritional cornerstone of every identical Keith and David scene that always comes at this exact point in the episode, when most viewers probably find themselves asking, "Yes, but what do the resident dysfunctional gays think of all this?" Wait no longer, fair viewer! David tells Keith how much he's going to miss him, which at least means that Keith is going far, far away. Yes, but for how long? "Three months is a long time," answers David. Only three months? With the length of time that seemed to elapse during my first viewing of this episode, by my calculation Keith will be back in L.A. fifteen minutes before this episode even ends. But we won't know it. And why not? BECAUSE WE'LL BE HIGH ON CRACK. Keith rises from the table and stage-directs his way to the sink, David fretting, "You're gonna get hit on by hot guys in every city." And while I myself have never been a hot, gay security guard -- well, once in college on this night I shouldn't talk about in case this is the week my parents finally figure out the name of the site I've been working at for the past five years -- but it seems like you have to get pretty low down on the entourage chain of command before you're all, "Someday my Safeguard Protection Agency situation defusing professional will come." Of course, I could be wrong. I usually just hedge my bets and make a beeline for the bassist.