What exactly does Soledad care about that fellow’s uncle? And is the former child star really concerned with the girls’ ability to earn a living? Stay tuned…

Gala says she is ill in the guardia of a hospital, but that doesn’t seem to be the case at all. Meanwhile, Majo is intent on interrupting her husband’s enjoyment of a good book.

Cianuro is, as you may have guessed, the Spanish term for “cyanide,” a poison that has long been used to propel dramatic intrigue. In Gabriel García Márquez’ Love in the Time of Cholera, for example, the photographer kills himself with it. Watch closely for the lethal chemistry cameo.

Majo’s daliance with a washed-up actor will soon prove to provide her with a little more drama than she’d bargained for. Gloria senses that his role might not be the hero’s but Majo is oblivious. Meanwhile Gala meets one of those cincuentones (guy in his fifities) that Melina has promised her.

It’s a slow night at Amelia’s little casa de tolerancia. Gloria takes off to see her son, Luchi, and Soledad disappears with young Carlos, who has once again arrived with a pocket full of pesos. Amelia finds that she has an itch in her stockings, and an obliging Raymond is beckoned to scratch it (while the great José Luis Perales once again sets the mood).

Poor Bertolt Brecht should have suffered with Majo’s free version of one of his most well known poems “Ahora Me Llevan a Mí.” Her performance not only disturbed the German playwright’s sleep but also wasn’t delivered to the right audience, was it?

Majo’s theatrical aspirations seem to have been crushed by reality. Meanwhile Gloria is trying without success to balance intimacy and family.

A show about four professional women who live in the big city and talk about sex and men all the time? Where on earth did Telefe come up with this idea?

That mujeriego Mariano has really messed with poor Elena’s head. If we were her, we’d dump the scoundrel for Durand, the suave French lawyer, tout suite.

Sometimes if you’re sitting at home, depressed, stewing in a pot of emotional turmoil and angst, really the best thing to do is just go out and shake it! (P.S. If your boss looks like she’s taken the bullet train to Splitsville, we strongly suggest you don’t mention it… especially if you are looking for her to sign off on your French classes!)

The cocktail party effect explains our ability to isolate a solitary voice amidst a sea of yappers, music and crowd noise. Let’s meet our ladies at the disco, where background noise and the effects of actual cocktails upon speech put our own c.p.e. skills to the test. (This one is hard, use the SLOW button!)

Elena is absolutely certain she will not be calling Mariano, her estranged, cheating boyfriend. She professes this fact repeatedly. But when Vero drops by, still tipsy from the club, discussion of lonely reality has its effect. She breaks down and picks up the phone…

Elena claims she only wants to tell Mariano about the bills, but if you believe that we’ve got a bridge in Uruguay we’d like to sell you. Mariano, well, he just doesn’t seem to be able to say the right thing. Hombres.

This short film by Roberto Pérez Toledo (@mividarueda), featuring Marta Fuenar and Jorge Yumar, explores the concept of love at first sight versus feelings that develop gradually.

Fraud, impersonation and seduction are the norm for this Colombian con artist king as he traverses the globe. Can he continue to elude Interpol?