Back to Mel, who’s got the trusty Jorge Miguel on hand for some critical lipgloss application. She’s busy telling us how hard it is starting your own label. “You need everyone to look at you, and you need everyone to want to look at you,” explains On Display. No mention of hearing you, but I guess that’s expected from a basement recording star.
What do you mean singing? All you need is a bunch of whore makeup and a gay guy to paint it on you.
Mel calls herself a princess which sassy Antonia is quick to smack down. “Princesses have a crown, not just a dress,” she explains. Then she tells us it’s hard for her to be cocky, as she lays herself down on her kitchen table full of rose petals. In a sequined dress. It’s the picture of humility, that’s for sure.
The photographers try to loosen her up, with minimal success. “You’re dessert!” “Pretend Joe’s not here!” For his part, Midge informs us that he has sole ownership of his wife, and has instructed her to do the porn star act to sell her records. He loves that men want his wife and they can’t have her. Well, neither can you most of the time.
Then they’re outside with Mel decked out in a gold leather jacket, skinny jeans and gold stripper shoes. And just when we thought it wasn’t possible for her to be any less talented on the mike, there she is posing awkwardly for the camera. They want a walking shot with her glancing back, and she yells at her entourage that she can do it herself.
I’m paying you to tell me how hot I am, not give me actual direction, okay?
Mel complains that she doesn’t want to be a porn star, she wants to be a rockstar. Well, that’s not what Midge is paying for sweetheart, so keep making Crayola eyes and sticking out your plastic boobs.
Then it’s time for Ter’s book signing! There is a crowd! And they are very happy to see Ter! They are also happy to see Brown Smurf, which means they are probably high on drugs. Ter tells us that her book signings have become “very classy affairs”.
Any classier and we’d be serving the expensive salami.
Some very chatty little boy tells Ter that he’ll be cooking a skinny Italian feast that night – pizza and pasta. In a backroom, someone is pouring Brown Smurf a glass of wine and asking him whatever became of his pizzeria? Smurfy says that it closed down, with the very reasonable excuse of “I was never there, I never even knew what the hell was going on there.”
And then it’s time for Caro to weigh in. And this one is classic. Caro informs us that the Brown Smurf is “struggling” and guess whose fault it all is? Teresa’s! She wants it all, and she forced him to do things he didn’t want to do. Like screw over his business partners. And drive drunk into a tree. Alllllll Teresa.
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