EPISODE 6, SCENE 5 The domestic explosion emanating from the Starbuck house could be heard all over the neighborhood. Shauna Meadows was up in the bedroom, pulling her clothes from the closet and jamming them into a Gucci suitcase. A frenzy of tears had mixed with her carefully applied mascara to create an appearance somewhere between Alice Cooper and Cruella De Ville. The supermodel was not a pretty sight. "I never should've come back! It was a mistake," she screamed. "You were a mistake!" This was being directed at Richard Starbuck, who was standing in the bedroom doorway staring at her furiously. "The mistake," he shot back, "was using me and Brawley to pull off another of your goddamn photo op publicity stunts! That's all you came for! Your bloody perfume campaign!" "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back!" she yelled. "Leave!" he retorted, ducking to avoid being clobbered by a flying black leather boot. Shauna turned into Nolan Ryan when she was really pissed off. "Here's what you owe me," Shauna said, thrusting a sheet full of numbers in Richard's face. "What's this?" "I paid the mortgage for five months last year," Shauna said. "That was a loan." Richard wanted to bite her head off. He snatched the paper out of her hand and pocketed it. The screamfest had erupted over Shauna's insistence on using Brawley in the "Selfish" ads she'd arranged to have shot in Richard's living room. It was created to look like the perfect mountain home setting, with gorgeous Shauna, handsome Richard and their darling Brawley posed around bottles of "Selfish" perfume and a view of Telluride in the picture window behind them. Richard saw what she was doing and started raving. "You won't put Brawley in this thing!" "This is what sells, and this is how I want it!" Shauna screamed back at him. The photographer, makeup girl, decorator and nanny all scrambled for cover as Richard and Shauna faced off, the baby started crying, and all hell broke loose in the house. A Skip's taxi pulled up in the Starbuck driveway just as Shauna charged out through the front door, her tear-streaked face masked behind big sunglasses (please, she begged, for once no paparazzi!), carrying the Gucci in one hand and Brawley in the other. The frazzled nanny followed in her wake. A distraught Richard stood in the doorway and watched his son carried off for the second time. As the taxi disappeared down the street, a phone rang in the house. Richard turned and went in to answer it. It was Luanne Rice. "Hi," she said in a neutral voice. "I was just calling to tell you there's a story in tomorrow's paper." She paused, the irony dripping out. "It's about you and Shauna getting back together." "Perfect timing," was all Richard could say in reply.