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…

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!)

You know, it’s never the drummer or the bassist that gets the big ego, it’s usually el cantante. In this case one is about to ruin Viole’s big opening party by refusing to play on a small stage. Is this Juan’s big chance for rock and roll stardom, or is he better off sticking to his new job as plomo (roadie)?

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.

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.

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…

Gloria and Majo are still on the same job but inhabit different planets. Meanwhile Melina connives to plant seeds of desertion in Gala’s unsuspecting head…

The meaning of fascista is self-evident, but Southern Cone countries also use facho. Balas, of course, are “bullets” but in some countries also have the alternately slang meaning of “homosexuals” or “gays.” Balas and Fachos are, evidently, also the names of tv shows in which Majo and Gloria’s young client stars.

When we ask for two, we’re happy to get any, but Melina is a lady not used to being short-changed, abril bello or no…

Goods and services that show up on our urban doorsteps are the ultimate in convenience. Latin Americans love el delivery as much as anyone, maybe even moreso.

Milagros is sidelined from the fútbol match and forced to peddle soda pop to pay for the team’s new shoes. Meanwhile, el patrón is getting the third degree from his mother, who lets on to us that he’s got a guacho child of his own on the loose—spawned with the butler’s sister?

It seems the brother-in-law is having an affair with the cook’s daughter, who is trying to get him to help her out of her maid’s uniform, and not only during the wee hours of the morning. But it doesn’t seem like el patrón is in the mood to be doing any favors for his wife’s brother, does it now?

It turns out that Tere wants to learn the piano, just like grandma. Or could it be she just wants an excuse to be with Juan? Mani stops by Amalia’s kiosk but forgets his Oreos on the way out.

Mauro’s not afraid to place a wager on his success with Violeta, though we wouldn’t bet on it ourselves. Franco drops into Dolores’ shop, just in time to realize that Sergio is the father of Brisa.

Totally ignorant of Jose’s longing for him, Mani (“el soñador”) is having his own private chat with Juan (who’s motto is: “quizás signifca sí”). It’s Clara, not Jose, who’s on Mani’s mind. Franco is thrilled with the job Violeta is doing, but tension is in the air when a cunning rubia enters the scene.