Despite Ramona’s inane questions and laughing about fake toes, Aviva is very open and patient. When Ramona Jr. brings up how it’s impossible to tell it’s a prosthetic from a distance at the beach, Ramona cannot believe she’d wear a bathing suit. Despite Aviva’s many phobias, I am glad educating even the most dismally challenged of the public about prosthetic limbs is something she is comfortable doing.
I could fill those with wine and sell them as Ramona legs!
Sonja, Carole, and LuAnn have left the penthouse and headed out to Notting Hill for some shopping–but not buying because everything costs hundreds of pounds and they’re on diets–and walking around Carole’s old London neighborhood. It’s obviously a very sentimental place for Carole, since that is where she fell in love again after her husband passed away. The countess tries to one-up the princess by saying she was shopping for a house in London while she was living in Switzerland. The pot is approaching a slow boil and there’s no kryptonite in sight. Punkin better really, no shit, mind the gap!
The ladies keep moving and shopping, landing at the bird boutique. Sonja loves a skirt with feathers but fears PETA if she wears it. Sonja, however, doesn’t have a care about Carole facing PETA and picks out a feather collar wrap thing she thinks is perfect for Carole, since she won’t need a bra to wear it. Carole needn’t worried about PETA at the moment, but rather, Sonja, as she gives no mind to the gap, coming closer and closer to her breastseses.
PETA’s gonna be all over her with that thing, but Sonja first.
Time for the big international dinner for the distributories of Heather’s products. The venue is a lovely space, formerly The House of Dior. After the hungry guests place their orders–but before they’re served dinner–it’s time for a round of Stand Up and Tell Us Where You’re From and Why You Love Yummie Kumbaya. One guest brings up that there’s a princess in the room, but he’s the queen. That makes Carole a little shy, but the countess looks outdone and none too pleased to have been overlooked and outranked by this guy.
Suck it royals, there’s a new HBIC.
It’s time for the New York ladies to stand up and deliver their Yummie Lovie speeches. Carole stays seated but gives a nice, brief speech about how she likes what it does for her booty. The hungry diners have to be loving brevity. LuAnn stands up and takes a dig at the princess by stating she’ll stand like everyone else–how lovely that she still has “the common touch,” not to mention a peasant’s taste for cake–and toasts to Yummie. Sonja is gracious and thanks the Yummies for welcoming her…now, where’s the black pudding?
A penny for your thoughts, Pardon. On second thought, never mind.
I don’t know about Pardon. Is anyone still hungry after looking at him across the table? Pardon, Pardon, but what are you doing with the roses? Leave that poor lady alone!
Pardon, if you put that near my nose one more time, I swear…
The famished, sleep-deprived ladies escape to the egg bathroom pods. Carole mentions they resemble the orgasmatron from Woody Allen’s Sleeper. More super culture powers? I’m finally picking up on the big secret–Carole’s nemesis is kryptobrassierenite. Don’t tell Lex Luthor or LuAnnthor. It figures that dinner would commence once Carole and Sonja disappear in the orgasmatrons.
What is a poor, hungry countess to do? Etiquette dictates waiting until all guests are seated, but just look at those international Yummie slobs–tucking into their meals while guests are missing. Oh, go on, countess, it’s okay to devilishly sneak a little piece of bread. tee hee! Living life on the edge! Exhilarating!
I’m such a baaaaaad girl. Mwahahaha!