Larsa Pippen has entered the M-er F-er chat. It’s like she started a private Slack channel for the group called #AdrianaBurnBook and then filled it up with the best or all possible disses against her nemesis. It only took her 12 episodes, but finally she gives us all that we’ve been hoping for. Lisa, on the other hand, has still failed to give us absolutely anything other than a lime green dress at a funeral party. “I didn’t get the memo on black,” she says. Girl. It’s like you don’t have to tell someone not to bring steak to a vegan potluck.
These two very different things show how random this final episode of the essentially rebooted series is. Fighting. Versace. Bachelorettes. Gay strippers. Caviar. COVID. Death. Canceled weddings. Domestic violence allegations. Apologies. Making up. A Funeral. No attorney who advertises on a billboard could get you enough for all of this whiplash.
Back to Larsa fighting: It really kicks off the top part of the episode. We finally get to see Adriana’s quip about Larsa leaving the group and trying to be Kim Kardashian with an even bigger butt that we saw way back when the first trailer for the show dropped. What they didn’t show us was the even better part, which is what happens next, and it’s like a mic drop if the mic set off a nuclear bomb when it hit the ground.
Larsa decides that since Adriana is being mean, she will call her all the names she can think of. “I could break you down in two seconds,” Larsa says. “I’m sorry you’re tacky. I’m sorry you’re bipolar. You’re an alcoholic; every time I’ve seen you, you’ve been drunk. You must have bad vision as you got older because you started dressing like a clown.” Adriana then says at least she doesn’t sell her feet pictures for $5 a pop. Um, it’s more like $15. I know. I bought some. Larsa replies, “Maybe you should. You look homeless.”
I’m not saying that she is being kind. I’m not saying she is right. I’m just saying that she is amusing and that Adriana totally deserves it, and it shuts her up and puts her in her place, which is just where I want her to be. Where has this Larsa been hiding? All season she was sweet smiles and boring stories, and in the very last moments she comes roaring up like some kind of Game of Thrones ice dragon to secure her spot for the next season. (This is coming back, right? It has to, right?)
Larsa then removes herself from the conversation. It is only 11. Where did she go? Did she go upstairs to her room? Did she go home? I have no clue, but the girls get in their pajamas and hang out in Alexia’s room. At midnight a male stripper shows up with boxes of doughnuts, and if you want to see my sexual orientation, it is exactly this. (I could do without his light-up scrunchie, but I will allow it.) These women stay up until 4 a.m. cavorting with strippers in tiny gold hot pants, spraying champagne everywhere, and generally behaving like idiots. They are so wasted that both Julia and Adriana pass out in their makeup, which, in the morning, makes them look like they peeled their faces off the tarmac at Miami International Airport.
As everyone is trying caviar from yet another hot guy, who is actually a ghost of one of Gianni Versace’s tricks who is cursed to have to work at the residence until someone plays all of Madonna’s extended dance remixes backward, Larsa shows up from shrug emoji. At this breakfast, both –Julia and Adriana come for Larsa, who once again dismisses them with a flip of her weave and a brush of her extra-long nails. Adriana keeps saying that Larsa is mean and thinks she’s better than her while lobbing insults at her and talking about her “fat ass.” Finally, Alexia, Lisa, and others at the table agree that Adriana is yelling about Larsa being mean while saying some awful things. Adriana may speak five languages, but she doesn’t know the word irony in any of them.
What this fight really comes down to is a fight about the show. Adriana keeps talking about how Larsa left “this group of women” for ten years and thought she could come back and be better than everyone. Larsa is righter than four lefts when she says that Adriana’s problem is that in those ten years Larsa grew and she didn’t. When Larsa was fired after season one, Adriana thought she won. But Larsa went to L.A. and got even more famous, while Adriana’s show got canceled and she was booted back to obscurity. How do you say boo-freaking-hoo in Portuguese, Adriana?
The rest of the episode is essentially about Alexia and her family. She was all set to get married until her mother was hospitalized with COVID and then released into hospice care. She eventually died on the day that Alexia was supposed to get married. That really does in the show’s finale party. Instead of a wedding, we get everyone headed over to Nicole’s for a funeral party where they light lanterns and then all practically fall into her pool trying to set them in the water while wearing sky-high heels.
The one miracle at the party is that Marysol shows up and tells Nicole that she actually enjoyed talking to her and that it’s Marysol who was the reason that they aren’t friends. She accepts responsibility, and they vow to move forward. Ugh, growth. We hate to see it. Adriana and Larsa also apologize to each other, but we both know that lasted about as long as the flavor in a piece of Fruit Stripe gum, so just wait for the reunion.
There’s really not much you can say about Alexia’s funeral for her mother. It is all genuinely sad and hard to make jokes about or do anything other than cry. I do love it when Alexia talks about how her mother was a doctor and, growing up, she was the only kid who had a mother who worked. Also, she was a cougar before it was cool. That’s the sort of tribute I want when I finally go to that “For more on the Housewives, go to BravoTV.com” in the sky.
It’s nice that everyone shows up for Alexia and manages to be on their best behavior, considering the death of it all. But the Miami women wouldn’t do that anyway. Yeah, we had some fights and some drama, but it was all so nice and light. They never got too mired in the muck like the ladies in Potomac. They weren’t weighted down with crimes like Beverly Hills and Salt Lake City. They weren’t stuck with the boredom of trapping the women in Ramona’s Hamptons house like in New York. This was nice and fun and breezy. After so much heaviness, RHOM was a nice little snack, and I can’t wait until next year to hopefully get some more. Nom. Nom. Nom.