It was Night of the Gorgons on last night’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, as the villains of the series clawed their way to the finish line, hoping to win the title of Most Dreadful Monster of season three. And since Adrienne will no longer be on the show after next week’s finale, her cohorts — the Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick, Marisa Zanuck, and to some extent Camille Grammer — tried to fill the void she would soon leave. The void once held by a truly unique garbage person. Fare thee well, Adrienne! Nice never really getting to know who you actually are.
Adrienne the garbage person kicked off last night’s episode with a party the likes of which no person with a semblance of class and a modicum of higher education had ever experienced firsthand. You see, Adrienne Maloof had been working on marketing an iridescent vodka called “Zing” that tastes like red velvet cake and DEFINITELY gives you cancer. And in order to infect her inner circle with “Zing”-worm, Adrienne hired models to put on body paint and basically act like buskers and human objects at her awful home. There was a lady who got made up to look like a statue. People stuck their hands through a velvet curtain, like it was some bizarre, reverse glory hole. I think the Naked Cowboy from Times Square was the men’s room attendant. It was basically extremely classy.
At the Zing party, Marisa Zanuck gathered enough women to make a coven and told them all about a text Brandi had sent her. It said “Hey Marisa! In order to save your marriage, maybe you guys should give each other a ‘Hall Pass.’” This was SHOCKING to Marisa, because she couldn’t imagine why another woman might think she hated her husband, since all she does besides hate her husband is talk about how much she hates her husband. Where did Brandi get off? The hags were agag. Agog? Who cares. Camille, Adrienne, and Kyle gawked and squawked about how they couldn’t believe Brandi had said such a thing. After all, who is she to give marriage advice considering she had once had the nerve to GET CHEATED ON? Ugh. Top marks in victim-blaming, you monsters. Do these ladies want to judge the Steubenville rape victim for drinking that night while they’re at it?
The text chatter bled into other gossip, led by Adrienne, who was all too happy to abandon her hostess duties in order to talk trash about Brandi. Adrienne had “heard” or “fabricated” the “notion” that Brandi has a thing for married guys. That she broke up her own marriage by letting a “guest star” participate in a threesome with her and Eddie. That she flirts with everybody’s husbands, all the time. And Faye Resnick chimed in to say that SHE heard Brandi brought a man into the bathroom at Kyle’s White Party and totally did him. A married man? No, just a regular man. And that is scandalous because … ? Because it was in the bathroom of a child’s bedroom. Oh. Okay? And …was the child there at the time? No? Got it. COOL STORY, FAYE RESNICK, YOU LIZARD WOMAN!
Kyle bobbed and nodded both of her faces this whole time, and finally, Yolanda — with whom I am more impressed week to week — spoke up after placing her soft, strong hands on Marisa’s angular face.
Here is what Yolanda said: “If you have a problem with something Brandi said, why don’t you talk to Brandi? Why are you telling US?” THREE POINTS FOR YOLANDA! Three is a number from basketball. Anyway, go Yolanda. Resnick stammered like “ya-duh-tuh-ya-duh-tuh-ya-duh-tuh” and, in the process, evoked the dark arts. Her inarticulate incantation set the forces of darkness in motion, and as each black-clad lady ghoul drank her Zing-flavored brew, Satan’s smile broadened a little wider and his erection got a little stiffer. A side note: Nothing makes Satan harder than Faye Resnick’s gossip landing on eager, happy ears. Seriously — even the Haiti earthquake was Skinemax compared to a money shot of Faye engaging other would-be cretins with her garbage words.
Around this time, we got to see Paul Nassif gently go into that good night, transitioning from bickering cuckhold to goofy dude being spray-painted brown. Paul dressed up like a tree to surprise his wife, which is, in my opinion, a totally cute “dad joke” kind of thing to do at a stupid party like Adrienne’s. She called it “pathetic” and pissed on his ego while she was still standing up, and her piss smelled like red velvet and God died a little bit. The next time we would be hearing from them, they would be over.
Meanwhile, back at Lisa’s house, Kevin the stereotype mash-up/silly, party-planning chimpanzee took off his pants so he could put flowers in the Vanderpump’s pool. Lisa and Ken were prepping for a housewarming/vow-renewal ceremony, so naturally this was the time to learn that Kevin wears boxer-briefs.
And right before the Vanderpump party, all the women learned that Paul and Adrienne had separated. They learned it by reading about it on gossip sites, a fact bemoaned loudly by Kyle, who said something like, “Isn’t it a shame that when your marriage breaks up, it’s on TMZ?” and seeming not to take into consideration that if she wasn’t in the public eye for five minutes, she’d actually eat her own children in order to reunite with the glow of soft lights and HD lenses on her clammy skin. She’d eat her children and then she’d get the fat she gained from their delicious flesh sucked off her “problem areas,” and pretend, in the process, that she was upset the tabloids got wind of it. It’s about time in this week’s recap to reiterate to all of you that I truly believe Kyle is a bad person.
Lisa’s housewarming party proceeded under the oddly shaped shadow that was cast by the Mallooves’ impending separation. Plus, Brandi came to Lisa’s house knowing that Marisa had been going around talking shit about her, and she was not happy about that at ALL. Shit was about to go down; Brandi showed up with fisticuffs fully formed. “Hi, Mauricio,” she tested. “Quick question. Just a test. Do I ever flirt with you?” “No!” Maurice replied. “Okay, cool.” And then she walked away.
I should also mention there was some comedy around Kim saying over and over again, “Did you get the memo?” in regards to the black dress she was wearing, but I’m not going to linger there, nor will I dwell on how sad it is that Kim realized, mid-testimonial, that she doesn’t have a husband. This revelation came on the heels of a thought about marriage and teamwork after a pause so perfect that a playwright couldn’t have crafted it any better for the page. DO YOU HEAR THAT, HAROLD PINTER! SUCK IT!! [High-five myself for FINALLY dissing Harold Pinter.]
Then Brandi told Lisa that the same writer who had reported on the Malloof separation also wrote a planted item from Adrienne concerning Brandi’s vaginal activities in Portia’s bathroom, or whatever, which she claimed was a total lie. Why doesn’t Adrienne just get a job at Radar Online? Or would that get in the way of her owning less than 2 percent of her family’s casino? Oops! I forgot there are SOME THINGS THAT CANNOT BE JOKED ABOUT. Like … casino-owning?
As the team wagons circled, Yolanda, in the fierce bitch move of the episode and maybe the season, got Brandi and Marisa together and said, “Hey, Marisa! Remember what you told that coven of ghouls and goblins back at that ‘If Eyes Wide Shut were set at a really lousy rave party’? Why don’t you repeat it right now, to Brandi’s face?” THREE HUNDRED POINTS TO YOLANDA AND HER GIANT BALLS! Hooray for Holland’s most assertive Submissive of all time! Let extensions and lemons rain down upon you from the heavens always, dear Yolanda. Go on, girl. Even kiss your gross husband’s tie and roast him a chicken with a ball gag in your mouth or whatever. Call him your king. Call him daddy. I don’t give a shit. Seriously, girl — enjoy your freaky S&M games with the world’s least self-aware person in the department of whether or not he can pull of a skinny tie who has ever hit Ben Vereen with his car. There but for the grace of D.J. Soft Batch go you.
So, to recap: Yolanda stuck up for Brandi twice in this episode. Not only did she stand up for her face-to-face-to-face at Lisa’s, but she also called out Adrienne on what, precisely, Brandi had EVER said about her that she could qualify as having thrown Yolanda under the bus. Adrienne stammered at her vodka rave like Marisa stammered at Lisa’s housewarming/vow-renewing, because basic bitches can’t lie under pressure without sounding like Dustin Hoffman’s character from Dick Tracy.
Marisa, for example, tried getting by on “I was weirded out when Brandi sent me that text about me hating my husband because I never talk about how much I hate my husband. Except for when I talk about how much I’d love to cheat on him with a Hispanic gentleman. But that’s only because I hate him.”
And a few feet away, Kyle’s ears — and the ghost of her love handles — pricked up like blades of cowardly grass. “They’re going after Marisa!” Kyle inaccurately deduced from where she stood. Her cohorts — Camille and the Morally Corrupt Faye Resnick — concurred, and expressed accordant disgust. And this begat an eleventh-hour decision from the MCFR to traipse over to the Marisa/Brandi/Yolanda showdown and basically take a shit on everything good in the world.
“No matter how many Chanel bags you borrow, you’ll never be a lady,” bellowed the Jack-O’-Lantern face of a woman who used her murdered friend as an opportunity to show off her breasts, ass, and vagina for Playboy. And Yolanda told Faye to fuck off. “This has nothing to do with you,” quoth Yo. “EVERYTHING HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH ME!” crowed Faye the bird-beast, like some kind of fusion of the Gilbert Gottfried–voiced parrot in Aladdin and the demon Pazuzu who occupied Linda Blair’s body in The Exorcist. Faye’s fiancé, EJ, is a lucky man! Wait — what does “lucky” mean again?
And then it went down. Faye Resnick, as a means of auditioning for the now-vacant role of “garbage monster” that once belonged to Adrienne, told Brandi that she broke up Paul and Adrienne’s marriage. “WHHHHUUUUUTTTTT?????!!!” said the world, only our reaction went on longer than that because our emotional capacity for bafflement has no word-count limit. “Oh, yes,” bleated the goat-beast Resnick. “Don’t you know that after you said what you did about how Adrienne used a surrogate to have her kids, the stress of her and Paul deciding to go out of their way to FUCKING SUE YOU for saying it drove them apart?”
“UHHHHHHHHHH, yeah. Riiiiight,” said everybody in the English-speaking world who isn’t Kyle and her “Faye’s a tough cookie!”-spouting bully lemmings. Yolanda and Brandi finally had the good sense to walk the fuck away from the Morally Corrupt Goat Beast and, God willing, toward Taylor’s giant bronzed face, because it looked like if it popped, it would become a gorgeous Restalyne fountain, and aren’t those always a fun addition to a Beverly Hills party? Just grab a wine glass and line up for whatever leaves Taylor’s cheeks — it’s like a piñata for adults! Oh, the revelry.
Next week, we’ll discuss the season finale of the show AND part one of the RHOBH reunion, starring an ABSENT Adrienne Malloof! I wonder, since it will be on the second night of Passover, whether they’ll leave out an empty chair for her, Elijah-style. Or maybe they’ll just roast her on a fucking spit. Either way, I can’t wait. Until then, pals.