Desperate Housewives - What More Do I Need? (Episode 507)

Don't mess with LynetteLast week on Desperate Housewives, we found out about skanky hausfrau Ann’s affair with sixteen-year-old Porter Scavo, and I threw up a little in my mouth.  Lynette saw Ann emerging from the warehouse booty call, and thought she’d been hooking up with Tom.  Currently, Lynette gnashes her teeth and plots Tom’s grisly demise as she waits up for him.  When her husband shows, she tells him that she knows everything.  And Tom… laughs.  Oh, Tom, NO.  Because he doesn’t know Ann was there, Tom grabs a beer and casually tells Lynette that he “wanted to bring her in” on the sitch, but was afraid she’d overreact.  Boys will be boys!  Lynette’s horrified ‘cause she thinks he’s talking about his own affair.  Hee!  If the Stooges had a conversation about infidelity, this would be it.  Eventually, though, Tom mentions Porter and “some girl,” and Lynette’s jaw falls all the way to China.  “You’re having sex with your best friend’s mother?!” shrieks Lynette as Porter walks in.  Tom jumps up like he just sat on a beehive.  Welcome to the Scavo family crisis o’ the week!  Even I have to admit that this one’s a doozy.  

Lynette and Tom sit their son down for a good ol’ fashioned talking to about how gross it is that he’s boinking his former T-ball teacher.  Ugh, that’s just so wrong.  I want to go wash my hands after typing it.  Lynette insists that he break up with Mrs. Robinson Schilling.  He says that he loves her, but agrees to do what his parents ask if they promise not to spill the beans to Mr. Schilling, who’s apparently a violent, jealous man.  Porter swears that if Mr. Schilling finds out about the affair, he’ll run away from home.  Lynette’s all, “Not if we kick you out first.”  Snap!

Bree and Orson, working in perfect, syrupy harmony, fire a dopehead employee named Charlie who’s been stickyfingers with the petty cash.  Everything’s going swimmingly with their business partnership, and the impending release of Bree’s “Family Values” cookbook.  So swimmingly, in fact, that Bree and Orson decide to do some copula- er… celebrating.  Right there on the kitchen counter!  Better grab an oven mitt for a pillow!  Meanwhile, Susan and Jackson continue their boring tedious yawnworthy (seems like an adjective really isn’t working out for me in this sentence) relationship, re-doing their first date.  Unlike Bree and Orson, though, there won’t be any hanky panky for these two.  Susan wants to start over and do things right… which means no sex until the fourth date.  To get his mind off of suddenly out-of-reach nookie, Jackson tells her that he’s an artist.  He even attended school in Paris, but he’s had a creative block for the past year, and had to turn to housepainting for a living.

Gaby and her family have wasted no time taking advantage of appreciating their new patron Mrs. Hildebrandt’s hospitality.  Gaby floats around the pool while Carlos reclines in the sun and the kids get cookies from the chef.  Mrs. Hildebrandt even suggests that they sleep over in her mansion.  For his part, Carlos is v.v. uncomfortable, and thinks it’s a bad idea to mix business with pleasure.  Gaby, though, loves the lifestyle, and thinks Mrs. Hildebrant’s a harmless old biddy in search of human contact.  She then makes the butler wade into the pool fully clothed to bring her a margarita.  Hee!  Hello, Old Gaby!  I’m so glad that the writers finally figured out that Rich Fabulous Gaby is waaay funnier than Poor Frumpy Gaby.  Later that evening, all cuddled up in Mrs. Hildebrandt’s guest room, the Solis family is watching TV when Mrs. Hildebrandt comes in… and makes herself at home.  Gaby tries to delicately to get the old lady to leave, but instead Mrs. H climbs into bed next to Gaby and Carlos!  O…M...G.  The woman’s totally off her nut.

Mrs. McClusky and her sister Roberta (did I mention she’s played by the fantastic Lily Tomlin?) are liquoring it up whilst digging into Dave’s history like a couple of wrinkly Nancy Drews.  They discover that at the beginning of each month, he receives a call from Dr. Samuel Heller, a psychiatrist who specializes in treating the criminally insane.  Talk about skeletons in your closet… Dave might have some, literally!  Speaking of Dave, he’s gotten the whipped husband garage band a gig, which causes the rest of the boys to look like deer in the headlights of a Mack truck.  ‘Cuz frankly they kinda suck, and they know it.  Mike’s especially hesitant about rehearsing, and he gets razzed about having a new girlfriend.  Dave seems particularly interested in who Mike spends his time with.  Could that be because he’s plotting a horrible, bloody revenge for the death of his brother in prison?  Meanwhile, Susan and Jackson are on their “second” date, and he’s making a lame, wooden attempt to seduce her.  Susan reiterates that they’re not having sex yet, and flounces out in a huff when he seems more interested in the removal of her pants than her v.v. scintillating stories about high school.  As Susan leaves, Jackson goes into his studio and picks up his palette and brushes.  

Lynette’s using a PTA meeting as an excuse to give her nemesis, Ann Schilling, some mad stink eye.  The stink eye turns into straight-up evil eye when Ann starts proselytizing about needing volunteers to chaperone the prom.  “We want our kids to have fun, but God knows what they’ll get into if we don’t keep an eye on them,” Ann says primly.  That about does it for Lynette, who takes off for the ladies room.  Ann makes the mistake of following her, and trying to chat like everything’s normal.  Ann’s mid-sentence when Lynette hauls off and gives her a shove across the room!  As I shout “Fight!  Fight!  Fight!” at the TV screen, Lynette tells Ann she knows it all.  Whereupon Ann makes yet another mistake and says she loves Porter.  Lynette slaps her across the face (!!) and grabs her.  “So do I,” she says.  “And if you ever lay a hand on him again, you’ll find out just how much.”  She gives the freaked-out Ann a final shake and struts right on outta that bathroom.  DAMN!  Note to self: do not sleep with Lynette’s son.  

The next day, Gaby is horrified to find her daughters painting on the wall of a room in Mrs. Hildebrandt’s house.  But it’s cool, ‘cuz Mrs. Hildebrandt said they could – this is the room where they’ll sleep when they stay over.  Like, all the time.  Gaby’s definitely starting to get freaked out, and tries to make excuses to get out of spending next weekend with Mrs. Cuckoobananas, who even has the kids calling her “grandma.”  But Mrs. Hildebrandt is either oblivious to Gaby’s discomfort or is pointedly ignoring it.  She’s cheerfully determined to have Gaby’s family around All. The. Time.  Next thing you know, Gaby’s packing her bags and trying to convince Carlos to leave.  He’s nervous because Mrs. Hildebrandt has a lot of pull at the country club, and could get him fired.  They decide to use their daughter Celia’s birthday party as a reason to leave early.  Ah, kids.  The ultimate end-all of excuses.  

Ann has an illicit meeting with Porter at a park.  It just happens to be right next to a baseball diamond, possibly the one where she coached his T-ball when he was six.  Shudder.  Ann’s all upset, but it’s not because of Lynette.   Oh no.  It’s much worse.  Ann… is pregnant.  This storyline just gets more and more f*cked up, don’t it?  Meanwhile, Andrew tells Bree that Charlie, the kid they fired, stole a surveillance tape.  And guess what was on said tape?  You guessed it… Bree and Orson’s down-home nookie.  Now Charlie’s blackmailing them.  Bree’s sure this could ruin the release of her “old-fashioned values” cookbook.  She gets that devilish gleam in her eye that makes me just adore her.  “Andrew,” Bree coos.  “All my life I’ve done my best to teach you to respect the law and never hurt a living thing… Forget it all.  Get that tape back.”  Orson pipes up with a meek, “No arson or violence!”  But a prim Bree’s all, “Don’t cramp the boy’s style.”  Hee!!!  Moments like this are exactly why Bree is hands down my favorite Housewife.

The Solis family is celebrating Celia’s birthday party when Mrs. Hildebrandt shows up to take her on a shopping trip to pick out a doll.  Annnnd… Gaby’s officially had enough meddling.  She tells Mrs. Hildebrandt that the whole creepy-clingy grandma thing ain’t gonna fly.  Yeah, especially since they’ve only known each other three days.  I then laugh my ass off as Gaby claims that she and her family “can’t be bought, we’re not for sale.”  Dude, Gaby, that’s priceless.  You are so for sale, you might as well have a price tag stapled to your forehead.  Upon being told to beat it, Mrs. Hildebrandt shows her nasty side, calling Gaby a greedy bitch who’s trying to bleed her dry.  Gaby orders her to leave, and despite Carlos’ apologies. Mrs. H gathers her dignity and makes an exit.  Later that evening, she phones the manager of the Country Club and lies that Carlos touched her in an inappropriate way during a massage.  Y’know, this woman is clearly off her rocker, and I want to hate her.  But something about her character, or maybe it’s just something about the way she’s portrayed, leaves me thinking that she’s a vulnerable, lonesome old woman who doesn’t know how to relate to people, and just goes too far too fast.  And then feels truly betrayed when folks run screaming in the opposite direction.

Third date time!  Susan’s drunk, and has decided to chuck her fourth date rule straight out the window.  She’s all grabby-hands with Jackson, trying to get him to come to bed.  But instead, he kisses her on the forehead and tells her he’ll call her tomorrow.  Say what?  Susan’s thoroughly confused as to how he resisted her drunken charms, so she puts on some lingerie under a trenchcoat and goes over to his place.  But Jackson’s still distracted.  The lack of sex has unblocked his painting abilities, and he’s excited to finish before his creative… er… juices stop flowing.  Susan’s all, “ooh pretty pictures let’s take a look!” she goes charging into his studio, despite his protests, and stops short.  Jackson has painted her, with a haunted, sad look on her face.  She asks how he knows about that look, and he replies that he knows a lot about her.  Smooching ensues.

Mrs. McCluskey and Roberta call Dr. Heller and pretend to be verifying medical records for insurance purposes.  They’re trying to confirm that he treats Dave.  The doc is immediately suspicious, but when he finds out that Dave lives in Fairview, he gets a downright freaked out look.  Dude.  When the doctor for the criminally insane looks scared, it’s best to run in the other direction.  Meanwhile, Andrew has gotten back the surveillance tape (with the help of several Hell’s Angels and a baseball bat).  But guess what?  It’s not Bree and Orson on the tape… it’s Kathryn and Mike!  Andrew:  “I’m never eating anything from this kitchen again.”  Hee!  Bree takes the tape over to Kathryn, who giggles like a naughty schoolgirl.  Bree, however, isn’t laughing.  She’s worried about Susan’s reaction.  Kathryn replies that Susan and Mike are divorced, and she’s been alone for five years.  For the first time, she’s enjoying herself.  Bree warns her to be careful.  The whole thing’s complicated and could end badly.  Yeah, Kathryn doesn’t seem to worried about that.  In fact, she seems downright giddy to have that tape.   

Lynette tells Porter that he can hate her all he wants – one day he’ll meet the right person, and he’ll know what real love is.  Then he’ll see where she’s coming from about Ann.  Speak of the devil… Ann phones, and tells Porter (with Lynette in the room!) that she can skip town with him on Saturday.  When Porter hangs up, he tells Lynette in a way-too-rational way that he does see where his parents are coming from.  He appreciates everything they’ve done for him.  Warning!  Warning!  Danger, Will Robinson!  Giant red flag!  But Lynette doesn’t see it, and when she leaves, Porter pulls a cigar box of money out from under his bed, preparing for his flight with his married lovah. 
Mary Alice thinks that desire’s an emotion designed to lead us astray, and cause us to make foolish choices.  Those of us who yearn for family act out in anger, and those of us who are lonely become reckless.  When the pursuit of our heart’s desire becomes an obsession, the best we can hope for is a caring friend willing to come stop us.  Like Dr. Heller, booking the first flight to Fairview.  Apparently he understands the need to put a stop to Dave Williams.