Unhappily-married lady is telling Heather that her husband's silence is downright aggressive because he refuses to respond when he speaks to her -- she'll have an entire conversation, and "an hour later, it's like you never spoke. They choose not to hear you." Oh, those men. The biddy starts crying, we pan over to see Abe in a room, interviewing the husband, and the fear strikes me as I realize what's about to transpire -- Abe's room is Mars, and Heather's room is Venus. Wacky gender hi-jinks to ensue. Abe's telling Mr. Salvador that talking to oneself does not a mental illness make; Mr. Salvador wonders if the fact that she wants him dead does. He thinks she poisoned the Moroccan chicken, Abe suspects she forgot to take it out of the oven. Abe wonders about significant personality changes, and when Mr. Salvador mentions viciousness, Abe asks if they usually get along. "Yes" or "no" would have sufficed, but Mr. Salvador gets heavy and talks about how the best part of growing old with someone is that "less has to be said." He liked the quiet, but now his wife makes too much noise. This subplot is a rehash of last week's suicidal divorcee -- how clever that Abe has spent each episode with denizens of troubled marriages, WHEN HE'S THE ONE WITH INTIMACY ISSUES!!! My usually unfazed intelligence is feeling very insulted.