Tonight on Desperate Housewives: It’s all about “What Ifs” as the ladies imagine themselves in different ways, which for Gabby and Susan means old and fat with no personality changes whatsoever, and for Bree and Lynette it means barely aging a day with no personality changes whatsoever. Some people live, some people die, and some people suffer while spending two hours recapping the weirdest episode this show has ever done.
I have nothing to say but…well…nope still nothing.
Hey guys! Remember me? Remember Desperate Housewives? The show that was brilliant, then meh, then brilliant again, then meh, then the most horrible thing to ever claw it’s way out of the depths of hell, then pretty good? Oh, now you remember, right? Okay then. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen these crazy bitches so let’s get right to it!
A camera crew films the aftermath of the plane crash as Mary Alice blahs about damage and stuff, but Mary Alice says the news people can’t tell us who survives. Wow, way to do your job Fairview News. “This just in: Something happened on Wisteria Lane today. We don’t have all the details yet, but we do know that it’s like, all smoky and junk, and maybe some people got hurt or something. Oh, what’s that Paul? This is live news folks. Apparently, there is some sort of sound headed this way. It’s either an ambulance or Mothra. We don’t know.”
The real news: An Asian has been let into Fairview!!
Meanwhile, the whole gang is at the hospital, except Karl. Cuz yeah, he and Orson were sexin’ it up in the santa shack when the plane crashed. Which means Orson is in bad shape as well. Oh, and Mona’s in the hospital too. Um, she didn’t die on impact when, I don’t know, the plane crashed directly into her?! Also, Celia’s in the hospital too with a concussion or something. Okay, so did Lynette shove her head down on the pavement after she saved her life? Cuz that girl should be fine. And it looks like Lynette skipped 3 months of her pregnancy because all of a sudden she has a big pregnancy belly that I swear wasn’t there before. Uh-oh . . . Lynette’s having some pain in her stomach. Why oh why did they have to stop for chili on the way to the hospital?! Oh. Oh, no, I see. It’s baby-related. Well, easy come, easy go. I’m kidding! Credits.
McCluskey tells Susan that she hated that son of a bitch Karl, but now that he’s probably going to die she’s praying for him. Me too, because he’s the only guy on this damn show who consistently takes his shirt off. And this talk of Karl of course leads us to a flashback of Susan’s marriage to Karl, which leads us to a fantasy sequence in which Susan’s all, Hmmmm what if I was still married to Karl? Yes, that’s right kids — it’s one of THOSE episodes. Come with me now, into an alternate universe, where things are completely different than they are now, with the exception of everyone’s personalities, which have not and will not ever change.
Sexually suggestive Christmas sweater.
Instead of Susan throwing Karl out of the house upon discovering — swear to god — freaking lipstick on one of his collars (has that EVER literally happened, EVER?!), she decides she wants to make it work. So she asks Karl about how many other women there have been — lots, apparently, according to Karl. Susan picks up a cookie, sniffs it, and then we cut to a few months or years later and Susan’s fat. Which for this show, means she looks pretty normal (maybe a tad out of shape) and healthy. Except her face, which seems to have been injected with copious amounts of a mixture of two parts play dough and one part bacon fat.
I’m offended right now.
But guess which plumber just moved into the neighborhood and has come to fix Susan’s clogged drain? Oh yeah, Mike. And I don’t know if it’s just because he’s standing next to Robert Z’Dar Fat Susan, but he looks hotter than ever. And of course, being such a lonely “fatty,” Susan throws herself at him. Mike declines her advances, allegedly because she’s married and not because she’s one Whatchamacallit away from Jabba the Hut. And with that, Susan has had it! She decides then and there to give up the sweets and make herself more attractive to her husband. Cut to Karl telling Susan that it’s not working out and that he should have left years ago. Well. That whole thing was pointless. But I’m glad they’re not raising the bar too high, especially this early in the episode.
In the hospital, the doctor tells Susan and McCluskey that Karl didn’t make it. McCluskey asks her what she’s thinking, and Susan says that mostly, she’s thankful. Huh, what an odd, rude, and off-putting thing to say, Susan.
In other words, I’m glad he’s dead cuz I would have been fat if he had lived…? WTF??
Oh, hey, it’s Bree. I forgot about her. Mary Alice says that Bree flipped the eff out about Karl’s death, then had to be sedated. And so we’ll be treated to her morphine-drip induced dream. Basically, she married Karl, and they talk about sex, and then we see Karl in the throws of passion with Bree — oh, wait, it’s some other skank. Apparently, it’s Bree’s yoga instructor. And then Karl treats Bree like crap, saying that he’s doing the same thing that she did to Orson. Well, kind of, but not really. And speaking of Orson, he’s dead in Bree’s dream (heart attack), and from the sight of the bajillion photos of Bree he had lying around his serial-killer bachelor pad, he was still in love with her. The landlady or neighbor is like, “It’s almost as if he died of . . . a broken heart.” Oh, geez.
Sorry ma’am, but really terrible writing killed your husband.
The doctor wakes Bree up to tell her that Orson’s okay! Except that he probably won’t ever walk again. Yeah, like how Carlos would never see again? That lasted what, 6 episodes?
But what about Mona? Aren’t you dying to know about Mona? I know you’ve grown to love and care for her over the past 2 episodes. So, here’s the news: Nope, she didn’t die. She might pull through. Angie, apparently given the gift of speaking for the audience is all, “How?! She got HIT BY A PLANE!” Word, Ange. Word. The nurse is like, You guys should be praying, to which Nick responds to Angie, “Deah god, please kill that blackmailin’ bitch.” Ah, so this week the accent’s back. It’s spotty, but it’s there. Kind of like Bree’s decency, and Lynette’s patience. And Susan’s likability. Wasn’t there another woman in this show . . . some sort of minority . . . no, no, she couldn’t be black, since Cherry only hires black people to play maids and thugs . . . was she Asian? No . . . oh, right — she was a fiery latina! Gabby, right!
Basically: Where the hell is Gabby? Is what I’m trying to say. Anysnoochies. Angie begins to think about how her life would be different if she was still on a show on pay-cable and not basic. I bet she misses saying “shit” and violently throwing up when questioned by authorities. Because in her fantasy on this show, she manages to keep her Frito Pie down.
Her fantasy: Mona lived (boo). And Angie’s in an orange jumpsuit being questioned by Officer Over-The-Top. Geez, dude, reeeeeellll it in. Who’d he have to sleep with to get a part in this? Oh, sorry, who — oh, CHERRY. That makes sense. Officer Over-The-Top is all, I want Patrick Logan!!!!! Give me Patrick Logan!!!!! Angie ain’t talkin’. And then we cut to her in front of the judge, and Angie decides to address the court. She says that no one was supposed to get hurt — they just believed in something and wanted other people to believe in it too. She looks at the people whose husband and father she killed (I’m assuming that’s who they are) and apologizes, and then says she felt a part of a community in Fairview (um, seriously? Like when people put trash all over your lawn and spray-painted your house?), and understands how much she hurt people. The judge ain’t havin’ none of this — Ange gets life in prison. The lesson? Don’t join Greenpeace kids, you’ll just end up killing someone’s dad. When Angie’s back in reality, the nurse tells her that Mona didn’t make it.
Sad extras. Wah.
Oh, hey, Cherry decided to give Eva Longoria Parker some screen time this week. Also, Celia is pretending to be asleep but is silently praying for God to kill her character off so she can be on a successful show like Modern Family. So now it’s time for Gabby’s dream, which is — seriously — about Celia being a child-actress who sucks at acting. Gabby drags Celia to a band-aid commercial, which she blows. Um, why isn’t Celia talking? At all? You guys, it’s just creepy. She’s spoken before, right? I don’t get it. And then Gabby manipulates Celia into crying, and all is good.
Flash forward a good 5 years — which, it needs to be said: Why the hell is everyone getting grey-haired and fat in a five-year span when they looked EXACTLY the same in the five-year transition from season 4 to season 5? Bullshit. Now Carlos is trying to sneak Celia away to camp, but no, Gabby can’t have that: Not when there’s an Annie audition for Celia to go to! Carlos says he can’t take it anymore . . . Which I guess means that he left her, because OHMIGOD WHY IS THE CRYPT KEEPER IN THE SOLIS HOUSE?! Oh. Oh, I see. No, it’s just Gabby. She’s gotten old and gray. Now that I think about it, she looks more like the love child of Paula Deen, the Crypt Keeper, and a gelfling from The Dark Crystal. I guess it’s 10 years later or something, and Gabby’s reliving her life vicariously through Celia’s old band-aid commercial on the tv with the help of a huge glass of cabernet. Atta girl.
Alright, let’s just take a moment and breathe. Then let’s ask ourselves…WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH THIS SHOOOOOOOWWWW!!!
20 year-old Celia comes in with groceries (she bought them with food stamps), and when her agent calls Gabby to talk about an audition, Celia tells her mom that she just wants to have a normal life. Yeah, I think that was kind of shot to hell the day you were born to Gabrielle Solis, kiddo. Gabby’s like, If you give up then I have nothing, NOTHING! Geez, settle down Greyskull. Celia gives in to her mother’s demands, and then they go upstairs so that Gabby can beat her with wire hangers and throw a bottle of Comet around the bathroom and force Celia to scrub the bathroom until her hands bleed. Awwww, quality time. In the real world, Celia wakes up and Gabby tells Carlos that Celia won’t have to do anything to be special. Um, except for maybe speaking? Perhaps? Cuz I think that might help.
Lynette’s having a sonogram — one baby is fine, but the other is in danger. Tom’s like, “Physically? Mentally?” Um, Tom, I think it’s too soon to know, dumbass. Oh, hey, “It’s too soon to know,” is what the doctor says! Now for Lynette’s dream: Basically, she wants another baby because she needs something else to yell at. I’m kidding. Except not really at all. She imagines a perfect baby boy . . . and then, Mary Alice says, “What if the baby was disabled?” Oh, dear. Yup. Strap yourself in, kids — we’re going there.
We immediately know something’s wrong with the baby . . . Because he’s crying. Crying babies are a sign of physical and mental retardation you guys, spread the word! Ugh, please. There’s some sort of baby physical therapist at the house, talking about stretches and trying to ignore the baby’s cries. I’m assuming she means just while they’re doing exercises. Because if she means to ignore a crying baby all the time, well then . . . it may be time for another therapist. One that isn’t, you know, evil.
Did you break a bone? THEN YOU’RE NOT DOING IT RIGHT, MORON!!
She says something about singing to the baby, and Tom starts singing Looking Glass’s “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl)” which is SO my karaoke go-to/warm-up song. Because you guys? I can rock that song like no one else on earth. Period. Lynette’s worried about his progression in comparison to other babies, but the therapist says she can’t compare him to other kids, and then Lynette runs off to pout and cry because she just can’t handle it all. Tom tells her that they’re doing what they have to do because they don’t have a choice, and Lynette’s like, “I feel like I’m being punished,” and “He might not even have a future.” Tom’s like, He’s 14 months old don’t write him off yet! And then, You have to do everything you can for him, or you’ll be sorry. Word, Tom. I know it sounds bitchy of Lynette to think these things, but I’m sure every parent of a disabled child thinks those exact same things more than once. Wow, I’m sorry, did I just get too real for a second?
Well, get used to it, because now it’s a good 10 years later and Looks Exactly the Same Lynette’s son comes down the stairs with those . . . I don’t know what they’re called — they’re those sort of crutches that people with cerebral palsy (?) use, the ones with the holders for the arms and handles. Anyhoozlebees, Lynette’s kid asks for a sandwich, and Lynette says that she needs to finish doing the dishes first. And then Lynette’s like, Make it yourself. Oh, dip. Her kid’s like, Jason’s mom makes him whatever he wants, so suck on that! And Lynette’s like, Jason’s nice to me, and he’s, oh, I don’t know in a WHEELCHAIR so he can’t do anything! And then Lynette has one of her patented Freak the Eff Out Moments (TM) and is all, Someday I won’t be around, so you have to learn to do stuff for yourself! And then there’s a really, really painful scene where he makes the sandwich for himself. And you guys? I sort of almost cried.
Don’t f with me kid or you’ll be in a wheelchair too, GOT IT?!?
But of course, this all turns into a Lifetime movie, because it’s a good 7 years later, and the kid is graduating from Waldorf University Law School. Is that a real school? No. No it is not. But it’s close enough to the Waldorf School that we’ll just let it slide, won’t we? He gives a speech about almost dying at birth and crap, but the REAL news is: Tom has a freakin’ mustache!! Wow, Freddie Mercury much? Anyway, more speech blah blah blah and I guess it’s supposed to be moving, but it’s just corny and the kid doesn’t even exist so I don’t really care. Plus, we all know Lynette’s never having disabled kids in the first place, because there’s already one on Glee so the quota’s been met this year. Back in real-life, Tom breaks the news that they lost one baby, but the other one’s fine. Wow, I so did not see that coming — oh wait, I did. And so did you. Because we all talked about it in the comments like two weeks ago.
Age has turned Tom into Omar Shariff.
Gabby comes in to Lynette’s hospital room to give her some flowers and to thank her for saving Celia, and to apologize for their fighting. Lynette’s all, “We were going to name him Patrick, and he would have been amazing.” Um, sad. Speaking of sad (sort of), it’s time for Karl’s funeral, and then Mary Alice goes through each lady’s fantasy. Um, yeah, I’ll do the recapping, Mary Alice, thanks. She says the priest says the best thing to do is keep on living the best way we know how. Oh, fantastic advice, Father Obvious.
A few things: Katherine, anyone? What happened with that? Also, way to send Karl off, Cherry — Just when we were seeing a softer and more human side of him with Bree, you made him such a complete and total a-hole in the fantasy sequences, which didn’t do any justice to the character or to Richard Burgi, who looked like he wasn’t even enjoying himself (because he probably wasn’t). I’m sure Nicolette Sheridan is calling Burgi right now and asking him if he wants to get shit-faced and talk about how much Cherry dropped a big steaming deuce all over their characters and hard work. I sure wish I could join them . . .
Next Week: Orson comes home! I’m sure he’ll be even more lovable now that he can’t physically do anything for himself. But how will you steal random dumb crap from your neighbor’s houses now, Orson? How!? And Tom ends up going back to work, and I’ll bet you’ll never guess who’s company he’ll be working for. Also, that last part of that sentence was sarcasm.