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The Real Housewives of New Jersey Recap: Never Utter Your Ferraris

On tonight’s episode of The Real Housewives of New Jersey, Danielle turns the sick baby benefit at the Brownstone into a public showdown with the Manzos — which we assume is keeping Bravo’s lawyers busy, what with the numerous implied threats and all. Danielle’s daughters are nowhere to be seen in this episode, nor are they mentioned, which we’re hoping means they’ve either legally emancipated themselves or been abducted by friendly aliens. We doubt Danielle would notice.

Have we talked about her Narcissistic Personality Disorder lately? Because it’s really on parade tonight — aided and abetted, of course, by Bravo, the show’s producers, us, and whatever collective delusion we’re living under that lets dim-witted, frog-faced, troll people believe they’re “divas” and carry on unchecked like Mariah Carey, etc., etc. (Because we’re sure it’s all related somehow, but more on the Guiduces later.) Danielle’s been asking for this moment by name since pretty much the start of this season, and she’s taking no chances on things turning out anything but crazy.

As the benefit has drawn closer, she’s convinced herself that people are attending to see her, and that the Manzos, whose business is hosting it, are occupying their time thinking of ways to keep her out. Of course, selfishness takes many forms, and most of them make an appearance on The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Take Teresa and Joe’s thoughtless breeding. Does the world really need more self-styled pink princesses? What about pink princesses with head trauma from riding their brand-new four-wheelers around sans helmets? (Mom’s big concern is that they avoid the “water puddles.”) Which reminds us, was it just us, or did Teresa’s ignorance of the word “sociopath” speak volumes? At what point can it be considered antisocial behavior? And yet the Guidices keep 'em coming. The only time we found ourselves nodding in agreement was when Teresa suggests that Joe “get snipped.” But Joe is apparently unfamiliar with the procedure, and, believing his wife is trying to turn her stallion into a gelding, replies, “You should be happy it’s so active. Whattaya gonna do when it’s not active anymore, huh?”

(We briefly picture his penis playing golf and canasta in its Florida retirement community. It looks cranky, but still active.)

So, anyway, after having recruited sad Danny, that twitchy Joe Pesci manqué, as her escort last week, Danielle asks her new friend Kim G., a wayward lunching lady, to escort her to the benefit as well. (How many escorts does a former escort need, anyway?) Apparently, Kim G. is loaded, and therefore possesses the ability to cow the locals with her mere presence. Danielle flatters Kim G.’s modesty and humbleness thusly:

“I’ve never heard you utter even one of your Ferraris.”

Which is our new favorite line forever. But we doubt Madame G. needs much urging; she’s clearly in it for the glory.

But what’s this? Conflict! Kim G.’s son sailing into the Manzo home yodeling like a hero: Kim G.’s son Johnny is Danielle’s sworn enemy and Caroline’s son Chris’s best friend. They fondly throw ham at each other, then Caroline lets drop that Kim G. invited her to lunch and Caroline said no … awkward … moment …

So, yes, except for Caroline casually revealing that she shaves her face every day, the B story is dismal. Albee takes Ashley and her boyfriend Derek out to dinner so that he can get all up in their business. Jacqueline pays a visit to Derek’s mom and ends up getting sloshed and eating grapes while lying on her lap. (Oh, show producers! What will you think of next?) Teresa fondly tsk-tsks her daughter’s materialism and ungratefulness.

On the day of the benefit, Danny, Kim G., and Danielle roll up to the Brownstone in Kim G.’s Bentley (the name of which, unlike the Jehovah-ish Ferraris, apparently can be uttered) to discover that (a) sad Danny has brought along a whole chain gang as an “entourage” for “star of the benefit” Danielle, and that (b) the benefit is being thrown by a humble hunting club whose members are dressed for a Church-sponsored spaghetti dinner, and (c) the Brownstone hadn't counted on ten uninvited, non-paying guests when setting up tables. Danielle is out for blood, and when Kim G. says that Chris Manzo told her “she’s in for a surprise," the curtains catch fire, metaphorically speaking. When the restaurant fails to anticipate Danielle's surprise request for ten free dinners in a satisfactory (to her) manner, they make a stink and an ugly exit — but not before Danielle forces the baby’s stricken parents to listen to her for what was probably an edited-down five minutes. It’s kind of not funny. Threats, also not funny. Danielle, initially kind of funny, now not at all.

Photo: Bravo