Desperate Housewives: Russian Bridal Wars

Um, no. Guess again.

Mary Alice blahs about how neighbors on Wisteria Lane are always lending things to each other. Sugar, advice, handguns — it’s all good over here on the Lane. Gabby’s eavesdropping on Bob and Lee, who are having a very loud argument about, I don’t know, who didn’t put the LP of Dreamgirls back in the record jacket, or who forgot to pick up some Wet Liquid body glide. You know, gay stuff like that.

“Wait . . . what’s a ‘power bottom’?”

Bob goes outside to pick up the paper, and sees Gabby, who’s all, Oh I was just returning this Fairview magazine I borrowed from Lee. And then of course she invites herself in. Oh my god, you guys, how amazingly HOT is Tuc Watkins?! So tall. So dreamy. So ambiguous about his sexuality. Anyway, Hot Bob and Meh Lee were actually arguing about how yet another egg donor dropped out. Again. Okay, I know I’m a guy so I don’t know anything about eggs, but I would always see those ads on the subway that were like, “Get $20,000 for donating your eggs,” and I’ve always thought, “If I were a girl I would totally do that.” I mean $20,000?! Hell yeah! Id’ be all, “Hey, throw in another 20 grand and you can take my uterus too.” Lee’s like, Maybe this is a sign from the universe that we’re not supposed to have kids. Focus on the Family agrees, Lee. All of sudden, Gabby’s like, “Take mine! I’ve got plenty, and I hate to see you guys so unhappy. So what the heck?” Bob and Lee are excited, but Mary Alice says that bad neighbors “make secrets they can’t possibly keep.” Damn, how about a spoiler-alert next time, Mary Alice, ya damn dead jackass?! Credits.

“Nicolette Sheridan said WHAT?!”

Mary Alice reminds us about the Fairview Strangler, since we haven’t heard anything about it in literally 3 months. Or something. Everybody looks at the newspaper article about the girl who’s missing. Including Susan, who’s making eggs when she spies someone trying to break into Mike’s truck. He says he’s a repo man. Hey, Repo Man – here’s an idea of how to run your business a little better: Go up to the house and knock on the damn door, introduce yourself, THEN try to take the car. Dumbass. Susan, still freaking out, doesn’t believe him, and so she yells, “FIRE, FIRE!” at the top of her lungs (because people come to your help faster if you yell, “FIRE!” instead of “Guy repossessing my husband’s car!”). Hee — Lee comes running out in a pink robe and with a towel on his head, because he’s gay, dontcha know. Mike comes out and tells Susan that he’s four months behind on his car payments. Ouch. Ouchies. A few minutes later, in the kitchen, Susan’s all, “Why didn’t you tell me you had money problems?” Well, sweetie, he did. Last episode. I mean, I made it a priority to remember, so why didn’t you? Sheesh.

“Save the Streisand albums!”

Over at Bree’s Kitchen of Tomorrow, Sam’s like, I know the best photo cover of you for your new cookbook — you in a barn on some hay with a really gorgeous dress on! Replace the gorgeous dress with a denim shirt and that’s pretty much every girl’s senior photo in my high school class. Sam and Bree have just come back from a meeting with Bree’s book people about the new “down-home upscale Southern cuisine.” Ugh, whatever. Anyone else completely hate Sam? Like more than, I don’t know, the Devil? Andrew’s like, Oh well I guess you know all about business-y stuff with that M.B.A. that you got . . . except you TOTALLY DIDN’T, poseur! BAM! Suck on that, robot man-child! Bree is mildly shocked, and then of course Sam explains that he had to drop out of school to take care of his mom who had cancer. And then she died. Oh. Oh dear. So . . . bam? Suck on that . . .? Bree tells Sam not to falsify information again.

Oh, hey, Bree? Madonna’s “Hung Up” video called. It wants it’s hairstyle back.

Over at Fairview’s Russian bridal store (oh, it’s totally believable that they’d have one), Irina’s being a major beyotch to both Lynette and the poor Russian woman who works in the store. Apparently, the only two attractive Russian women in the entire world now live in Fairview. I kid, I kid! There’s probably one more in Moscow or something. When Irina goes into the dressing room to take off the dress she’s trying on, her cell phone rings and Lynette answers it, but it’s some dude yelling in Russian, so she hands the phone to Irina, who yells some Russian crap into the phone. Irina tells Lynette it was a wrong number, but the Russian bridal shop worker is all, I can tell you what that suka* said, lady. *”Suka” is Russian for “bitch.” I do my research, people.

“It’s Marc Cherry. He said something about your plot-line having played out? And stop by your trailer for a quick slapping? And bring some ho-hos? I don’t know.”

Over at The Coffee Cup, Patrick Logan is sitting at a table, staring at his open laptop, impatiently waiting for someone to reply to his M4MM Craigslist ad.

“Hmmm, these Bob and Lee guys sound kinda hot . . .”

Danny (who works at The Coffee Cup? Did we know that? I don’t think we did.) hands him his cappucino, and Patrick asks him for some help with his “novel.” Um, Danny writes poetry, Patrick, so he’s not going to be any help unless your novel is about shame-eating or awkward boners. Patrick’s “book” is about a guy named, I don’t know, Batrick Mogan, who meets this girl we’ll call, I don’t know, Pangie Dolen, and they fall in love, and one day Pangie disappears with another man and takes their baby with him. We’ll call the baby D. Bolen. No, that’s too obvious. We’ll call him Danny B. Danny’s like, That doesn’t sound familiar at all, and the dude in the book should kill the lady in the book. And Patrick’s all, That is a good idea, and then maybe he can go to wizard school and have all sorts of adventures, and Danny’s like, Dude, too much.

Over at Casa de Carlos Hates Gay People, Carlos says no to Gabby’s plan of making gay dreams come true. Carlos says the eggs are half his, and he owns “half of whatever comes out of that uterus.” Um, gross. He’s like, You can’t just hand out your eggs to “every childless gay couple that wanders by.” Geez, nice, Carlos — why don’t you just go kick the crap out of them like you did to that poor gay guy in season 1, hmmmmm? Blah blah Carlos I-can-cut-you-off-the-credit-cards blah blah blah Gabby I’m-totally-doing-this-anyway. Geez. They should just give Carlos and Gabby this dialogue to say every week:

GABBY: I will do [insert crazy thing of the week]!

CARLOS: No, you will not [insert crazy thing of the week]!

GABBY: You can’t stop me!

CARLOS: Yes I can!

GABBY: You’re right. I’ve learned a valuable lesson. I love you.

CARLOS: I love you too.

At the I.N.S. office, Lynette tells some dude at the office that Irina said something like, “Go ahead and call the police, you’ll never find me.” To be fair she might have said, “Go ahead and call The Police, you’ll never find me,” which would kind of make sense since The Police broke up like 20 years ago. Lynette gets all Sarah Palin on the dude’s ass and is like, She’s a foreigner who’s possibly done something wrong, so deport her back to the land of vodka and twenty-year-old fashion! The I.N.S. guy says there’s nothing he can do. Then Lynette sees a photo of him on his desk, and she’s like, You don’t have kids, so you don’t know what it’s like, and there’s nothing you can do, you pathetic loner. On her way out, she spies a woman who has a photo on her desk of a guy with a wife and kid, and she’s like, Is that your daughter-in-law? The lady says it is, and adds that they really don’t get along. Jackpot!

Seriously, dude? Save that crap for Facebook.

Li’l M.J. is trying to clog the kitchen sink because Daddy needs work. That’s our Li’l M.J.! Susan tells M.J. that Mike only gets paid for work at other people’s houses . . . uh-oh Suzy Q, whatchu gon’ do? Sure enough, we’re offered up a montage of Susan wrecking Bree, Lynette, Angie, and Gabby’s plumbing, and then giving them cash to get Mike some work and money.

“You’re okay with going poopy-dooks in your yard for a week, right?”

Bree’s on the horn with her publisher, who apparently thinks that Southern cookbooks are over. Someone might want to tell that to Paula Deen before she heads over to Costco to buy more pallets of lard. Cyborg Sam arrives and robotically tells Bree that he’s been going over the books and he found some interesting stuff. And we cut to — Bree asking Andrew if he charged some people for 5 bottles of vodka, but only 4 were delivered. Oh, the horror! And the rotary club was charged for 7 cases of wine and only 6 showed up. Oh, the humanity! Make it stop! No, seriously, Cherry, make it stop. Bree seems to remember that Andrew had a party that weekend with lots of wine and lots of vodka. Andrew says he took leftover wine and vodka for his apparent Annual Stolen Wine and Vodka Party (you weren’t invited), but Bree says that he charged people for them, so it’s like stealing. Geez, Bree. It must be nice, riding your high horse over to the ethics train. Andrew brings up Sam, and says that Cyborg Sam is the one she should worry about, not him. Long story short, Bree fires Andrew.

“Oil can . . . oil can . . .”

Lynette calls Tom, who’s teaching Parker how to drive. You guys, how cute is Parker? He’s such a little cutie. Lynette tells Tom that she’s going to get Irina’s passport i.d. number and take that bitch down! Hell yeah! Tom’s like, Oh okay, so you’ve chosen your crazy scheme for the day, I’ll get some chicken on the way home, smell ya later. In Preston’s room, Lynette digs through Irina’s thousands of panties to find her passport. Only on TV do people hide precious things in their underwear drawer. It’s like an unwritten television law. That, and a mysterious cough must be the harbinger of any sort of debilitating disease. Seriously. People cough, and then someone else is like, “Are you okay?” and then 40 minutes later the person who coughed is dead of brain cancer. So, Lynette’s writing down Irina’s passport i.d. on a sticky, and OF COURSE Preston and Irina come home in the middle of the day to have some skyrockets in flight, afternoon delight, aaa-aa-afternoon delight! Oh, Lynette, you do realize you could just say that you were looking for laundry, since you, you know, do Preston’s laundry even though he’s like 19. But, I guess hiding behind the closet door and accidentally catching your son having sex is more your style. Whatever works, Lynette. Whatever works. Lynette texts Tom to tell him that she’s about to see their first-born give some Russian chick a hot Karl followed by a dirty sanchez, and Tom’s like, we have to get home now! And Parker’s like, Don’t worry dad, I totally watched “Fast and Furious” the other night, so I’m all over it!

“Dear Nicolette Sheridan, you poor, misguided, crazy bitch . . .”

Meanwhile, Irina’s taking Preston’s shirt off. *Sigh* Cherry. Cherry, Cherry, Cherry. You do know that the people who watch this show are NOT 15 year-old girls, right? You know that we’re 20-40 year-old ladies and gay men, right? So, ixnay on the eenagertay irtlessnesshay and show us Carlos and Bob washing a car together while wearing speedos! Oooh, what’s this? Lynette spies a baseball on Preston’s dresser. I was really hoping that she’d throw it at the back of Irina’s head because THAT my friends, would be hiLARious. But no, she throws it out the window, thereby causing some Preston Scavo boner shrinkage, and sparing herself a lifetime of drinking tequila in the bathroom and muttering things to herself like, “He’s my baby . . . he’s my boy . . . my sweet, sweet boy . . .”

“Preston, no — it doesn’t go in her ear!”

Bree’s making some honey-glazed short ribs or something, and Cyborg Sam says that they’re so tasty. But honestly, anything’s tasty when you’ve spent your life drinking Pennzoil and sucking on electrical lines at power stations for sustenance. Sam is surprised that Bree’s coping so well, considering that she fired Andrew. Bree’s like, Bitch please, that’s our thing — “He provokes me, and I push him away, but we always come back together.” Sam has a slight electrical malfunction and is all, I do not understand your complex human emotional system. Bree’s like, He’s my son, and I love him, and that’s how we roll, so help me with these biscuits or get the hell out of my kitchen.

“Sometimes I fire him for stealing, sometimes he sleeps with my AA boyfriends and I drop him off in the middle of nowhere with nothing but 20 bucks and he becomes homeless for a year. Oh, we laugh and laugh . . . good times. Good times.”

Ugh, not Mike and Susan again. No one cares! Unless Mike is naked. Ohmigod, is Mike naked?! No. No he’s not. Okay, so we don’t care! Holy geez, did Susan get a boob job? Those things look HUGE! Is she breast-feeding? Geez! Is it just me? I mean, maybe not seeing this show for a month has made me forget the size of Susan’s ta-tas, but damn — those puppies look huge in her nightgown!

Am I right, folks?!

Mike found Susan’s missing earring . . . in Gabby’s drain. Susan’s like, Oh well, we were jogging, and I . . . hugged Gabby . . . and the earring must have fallen on her . . . and gotten stuck . . . and then fell into her bathtub . . . ? Hee. Then Susan’s like, Let’s have sex because my boobs are freaking awesome tonight! But Mike’s too emasculated to have the relations, and when he finds out that Susan gave the girls her own money to use for the repairs, he’s REALLY not in the mood. Susan’s like, None of this embarrassment would have happened if you had just let me help you with your car payments and stuff! Word. I’m not always the biggest Susan fan, but geez, Mike — suck it up! Mike says it’s his business and his problem, and Susan’s like, marriage is a partnership, so if you can’t accept that, maybe there’s something wrong with our marriage. Mike goes downstairs to sleep on the couch. You know, if Mike billed himself as “The Shirtless Plumber Who Will Totally Make Out With You For An Extra 40 Bucks,” then I bet his business would skyrocket. Skyrocket!

Oh, I guess Angie gets a plot this week, so let’s see what’s up with her. She comes into her house and hears a strange noise, picks up a tacky vase, and walks around the house looking for someone to smash in the head, hoping that it’s Ana. Um, didn’t you have a gun, Ange? That might work. She gets scared by a phone call, thinking that it’s Marc Cherry extending her contract, but it turns out it’s Nick, and she tells him to hurry home. But, as the camera pans to the window, we see someone lurking outside . . . Betty Applewhite! Wait, no, I’m sorry, no it’s Patrick Logan.

“Matt LeBlanc? Are you up there? Look, I tried, but the producers said no. So . . . good luck with your . . . career . . . “

Bob and Lee are having Gabby over to celebrate her giving away her woman-y parts to help them have a baby. Gabby asks them if they want a boy or girl, and they want a girl so they can enter her in baby beauty pageants. Oh, lord. Gabby gets kind of carried away and is all, I want a boy because my other babies are girls. Okay, I’m a bit confused here. Is there a difference between just giving someone your eggs and being a surrogate? Because the way they’re talking, it sounds like Gabby’s going to be giving birth to the kid, and that’s not what I thought was going to happen. Because Gabby didn’t offer to be a surrogate, she just offered her eggs, so I assumed that some other lady would have the baby. Am I right? Or am I just a gay dude who knows absolutely nothing about the female reproductive system and how having a baby actually works? I DO know that a baby comes out of the woman’s anus. I mean, I’m not an idiot. Annnyyyway, Gabby’s like, I want a boy so I can buy him boy things, and then Bob and Lee are like, well you can do that when we visit because we’re moving to New York state. Noooooooooo! Bob and Lee, don’t leave!! Sad. Sadness. Gabby’s like, I don’t want you taking my son. Awkward. Bob’s like, This kid will have your genes, but it won’t be yours — you do understand that, right? Um, except she totally didn’t until just now.

Oh, Gabby, sweetie, devastation doesn’t really become you.

Back at home, Gabby shows up to find Carlos and the girls playing cards. Juannie Sue asks Gabby why she looks so sad, and Gabby’s like, Besides the fact that you’re a daily disappointment to me? I kid! She’s actually all, I thought about not being able to see your face every day, and it made me sad. Oh, crap, you guys, I have to get out of here — things are getting a little too real for me. Gotta run — I’m feeling things!

Okay, I’m back. The dude who played Reba’s ex on her tv show (which, yes, I totally watch sometimes, feel free to judge) is at Bree’s little catering shindig. I guess he’s Bree’s publisher because he tells Bree that tonight better be successful. Or else! Or else what? Exactly. Back in the kitchen, Sam’s trying Bree’s “human food,” but it doesn’t taste right to him. Why? Well, first of all because it’s not made of synthetic compounds and yellow cake uranium. But also because someone totes took the sherry out of the bottle used for the glaze and substituted it with vinegar! Oh, the humanity! The failed-actor-turned-cater-waiter (who’s totally going to finish that screenplay this year, gosh darnit!) says that they’ve already taken out most of the plates. Bree doesn’t know how this could have happened, until Sam says that Andrew still had his keys. Hmmm. The cater waiter says that the publisher is giving a speech and no one will give their plates back! What will Bree do? Well, if I were Bree, I’d look up at the ceiling, notice the fire sprinkler system, borrow the creme brulee torch from the chef, and then start a fire, causing everyone to leave the building and all the food to be ruined. Oh, hey, and that’s exactly what happens! Do I know this show, or do I know this show?

ABC proudly presents: Carrie — The Menopause Years.

Aw, you’ve had a hard day, Bree. Why don’t you change into your robe, put your feet up, and your paraplegic husband will make you a nice cup of homemade cocoa. There. Isn’t that better? No? Well screw you, then! Orson doesn’t think that Andrew was the one who sabotaged the dinner. He thinks it was Betty Applewhite! That will NEVER get old, people, just so you know. Never. Orson plays Jessica Fletcher and is all, “The vinegar had to be substituted for the sherry, after you’d selected the bottle, but before you left for the event. And the ingredient had to be something you wouldn’t sample.” Ah, the plot thickens! Well, kind of. Orson says that Andrew’s not smart enough to do that (true). Orson says, “It’d have to be somebody smart, at least smart enough to have an M.B.A.” Bree says that Sam wouldn’t do that. The audience says Bree is an idiot. I concur. After all, what would he have to gain? she wonders. What indeed, says Orson. What indeed indeed, says me.

Okay, so apparently Mike decided to do a Wisteria Lane version of a Shakespearean play, because he’s in his garage reciting this long-ass soliloquy about how Susan looks at him like she’s lucky to have him (um, YEAH, she is!). Mike’s all, “How can I say, ‘I can’t take your money becuase it won’t even BEGIN to cover the debts I’ve been racking up for the last year?’” You guys, if he’s talking to God and this turns out to be a prayer I will LOSE IT!

“Are you there God? It’s me, Mike Delfino.”

Turns out, he’s talking to Carlos, who takes out his checkbook and asks Mike how much he needs. There’s a deleted scene here that didn’t air, but I got an exclusive copy of it. I can’t show it, but I’ll transcribe it for you:

CARLOS: And what are you willing to do for this money?

MIKE: Oh, I’ll do ANYTHING.

CARLOS: ANYTHING?!

MIKE: Oh yeah. ANYTHING.

CARLOS: I want you to strip me to my underwear –

MIKE: Done.

CARLOS: I’m not finished. I want you to strip me to my underwear . . . and throw raw bacon on me.

MIKE: I — what?

CARLOS: And chili. Cans of chili.

MIKE: Dude, that’s –

CARLOS: Throw raw bacon and cans of chili on me.

MIKE: I — Do . . . Do you want me to open the cans?

CARLOS: Surprise me.

MIKE: Um . . . I’m gonna pass.

CARLOS: You sure, dude?

MIKE: Yeah. Definitely.

CARLOS: The chili boat is sailing . . . sailing away . . .

MIKE: Dude, forget it, you’re freaking me out. I’ll just do a threeway with Bob and Lee for a quick hundie.

END SCENE

Personally, I don’t know why they deleted that.

“Dude. One can of Hormel. That’s all I’m asking for.”

Back at The Coffee Cup, Patrick comes in for another cappuccino and more allegory about his “novel.” Geez. He and Mary Alice should get together some time and swap metaphors. Patrick’s not leaving town until he “finishes his book.” His “character” went “over there” and “she was alone,” but it “seemed too easy,” and now his new “idea” is to “get revenge” by “taking something from her” by which he means “the kid.” I wish I could have told you that last sentence in person, because finger-quotes make it awesome. By which I mean exhausting. Wow, this is nothing like last season’s plot when the bad guy captured a member of the family of the person he wants to exact revenge upon. Hooolllllddd on a second . . .

“NO RECYCLED PLOOOOTS!”

Over at Bob and Lee’s, Bob’s sitting on the porch, contemplating something gay, like whether or not Madonna’s new “Sticky and Sweet Tour” CD/DVD combo will be better than the “Confessions Tour” CD/DVD combo. Gabby sidles up to him and asks him if Carlos had a talk with him, which he did. Yeah, sure Carlos talked to Bob and Lee — with his fists! Gabby apologizes and Bob’s like, It’s fine, it was a lot to ask, get the hell off my porch, whore. Gabby wants to talk to Lee, but Bob says he left, and not left to, I don’t know, go to the grocery store for goat cheese, but like LEFT LEFT! Like they had a fight and broke up! WHAT?! Nooo! No likey. That’s so sad! Bob tells Gabby that Lee didn’t want to go through all the child stuff again, and Bob really wants a kid, so they broke up. Augh, that’s so sad! Gabby asks if there’s anything she can do, and Bob gives her a look like, Really? Are you effing serious, you dumb ho? Get the hell out of my face. Oh, Bob! I’m so sorry! Take your shirt off.

THIS is what we want, Cherry.

Dun-dun-duh-dun. Dun-dun-duh-dun. That’s the wedding song, just so you know. Which means it’s time for Preston’s wedding! By the way you guys, I am SUPER pissed that all of you have apparently refused to go in together on a present for Irina and Preston. I thought we had a deal! I drove all the way down to Target myself, and bought the Fuego EG02AMG Element 21-inch Dual-Zone Gas Grill (dark gray) with my own money, lugged it home, wrapped it up, and took it to the ceremony. I even bought a card for all of us to sign, but no. No no no no no, it’s too late. I’m putting my name, and my name ONLY, on the card and the rest of you can suck it, because I’m out $500. I thought we had an agreement, but I can see how well that turned out. Well. Good luck impressing them with your coasters and bagel slicers, chumps! Jerks. You guys suck. Oh my god I hope they have those buttercream mints!

Okay, so apparently, long-haired-background-dude Eddie is Preston’s best man or something? Seriously? And did you notice how Eddie got a little shout-out in the strangling section of the opening “Previously on Desperate Housewives . . .” thingy? If you did, and you haven’t guessed by now just WHY Eddie’s getting all this screen time, then . . . I don’t know what to tell you. There’s some stupid wedding mishegoss about Preston’s missing left shoe. Wow, Tom looks kinda hunky in a tux. Did he do something different with his hair? Since Lynette’s pregnant and can’t numb her pain with a bottle of Captain Morgan and a handful of Tylenol PM like a normal person, she’s sitting on the porch, lamenting the fact that Preston is marrying the love child of Yakov Smirnoff and Paris Hilton.

“In Soviet Russia, coke snorts you!”

Lynette’s all sad because the I.N.S. lady didn’t call back with any incriminating information on Irina. And just as Lynette says she could really use a favor from God, the I.N.S. lady pulls up in her car and says she has some info on Irina. And yet, I keep praying for that pony, Lord . . .

Irina’s upstairs in Preston’s room, and Lynette’s like, You look pretty — is this dress as nice as the one you wore to your first wedding in Russia?! BAM! “Usually in America, we get divorced before we get married again.” OH, SNAP! Irina says that this Alexei guy she married promised her money and crap, but he was a lazy bum who treated her badly, and won’t sign divorce papers unless she gives him some money. Lynette: “Uh-huh . . . What about the guy in Italy? Who pressed charges after you cleaned out his bank account?” OH, DIP! Irina says he was a “pig” and she earned every penny. Lynette: “We have a term in America for women who get paid for sex and it’s not ‘daughter-in-law.’” SUCK ON THAT! Irina says that she could give a crap if Lynette likes her or not, because an hour from now, she’ll be the most important thing in Preston’s life, and she’ll just explain it all away to Preston if Lynette gives him the file, and he’ll believe it all because he’s a chump. OH, HELL NO! Except that Preston was standing in the doorway and heard all of this! WHAT THE WHA?!

“Mom? The mustache glue is burning again.”

Later on that night, Preston’s sitting alone in his room. Poor kid. Poor, poor fake mustachioed kid. Lynette comes in and says it’s cool if Preston hates her right now, but she loves him so much that she’d rather have him hate her for a little bit if she kept him from making a decision that would ruin his life. Awww. That’s kind of touching. I think they’ll be okay. And, um, not to be that guy, Preston, but I did drop five hundie on a grill for your wedding that didn’t happen, soooo . . . yeeeaaah.

Irina’s walking her skank ass over to a motel, suitcase in tow, when Eddie pulls up and is all, Hey I’m a harmless minor character, I can give you a ride! Irina’s like, Oh, okay, totally, cuz I’m sure you won’t hurt me or anything, because I wouldn’t expect that from you, a minor character! In the car, Eddie’s like, You can stay with me if you don’t want to pay for a motel, and maybe we can do it. Irina’s all, Um, no, cuz you’re a “greasy-haired little boy.” Eddie gets all huffy, and thinks to himself, “Well, that was just rude. That really hurt my feelings. I could totally use a hug right now. Or, MAYBE I’LL JUST PULL OFF THE ROAD AND STRANGLE YOU TO DEATH!” Yup. That’s right. Eddie’s the strangler. I’ll pause and let the news sink in. Then he digs a hole in the ground, I’m assuming it’s for Irina’s body, but maybe it’s Arbor Day. I don’t know.

“How dare you! I was a recurring character on Kyle XY!”