“Riveting story, Stephanie. Do tell it again.”
First of all, I’d like to say thank GOD this week we returned to the normally (blessedly) short half-hour episode. Much as I adore this show and all its brainless melodrama, a whole hour of it was starting to make my head feel all smushy. As of press time I can barely remember who was the 13th president of the United States. Let’s end this madness now! (or in 30 minutes!) Welcome to The Hills, bitches!As we return to our beloved blondie-fest, Heidi is paying a wee visit to Blahdrina at her place of business, since Blahdrina is now her only chance at friendship (save for those paparazzi at US Weekly). Her face continues to morph into an unrecognizable blob of shiny California glow-iness. One more application of Lip Venom and it’s likely to melt right off!
I can’t decide if this look is Pure Sunny Evil or Bumblebee Biker.
She and Blahdrina head out for lunch, where Heidi remarks on the astounding reality of the cafeteria. Indeed, darling, it’s not just a soundstage. And they have real food too! The two new best buds sit and chat and eat. Well, Blahdrina eats. Heidi doesn’t touch hers, preferring instead to use her mouth for one of her two favorite activities: talking about herself. She goes on about what a travesty it is that their friendship has suffered just because of some silly misunderstanding with some other chick. Wait, what was her name again? Anyway, Heidi convinces Blah that The Fight had nothing to do with her and that it’s no reason that THEY can’t be friends again. Except for that little thing called loyalty. I mean, isn’t that what friendship is? Having your girl’s back when she gets emotionally betch-slapped? I don’t get why everyone on this show (and this generation as a whole) never wants to pick sides when there’s a disagreement. Just be a man! Pick a side! Decide who you think is right and go with it.
“You’re really missing out on this Neverfood.”
As we hear the beginning bars of our opening credits song, Heidi invites Blahdrina out for a “Girls’ Night Out” with her and Stephanie. I’m pretty sure it should then be called “Bleached Shrews’ Night Out,” but let’s not get stuck on the technicalities of the situation. Like any good peon should do, Blahdrina stares uncomfortably at Heidi and gives her assent through silence.
At People’s Revolution, dozens of skinny, leggings-wearing wannabe celebs mill about, waiting for their chance to impress Kelly Cutthroat enough to be in her fashion show. Lauren squeezes in as though she’s nobody, nobody at all and finds a breathless Whitney in the middle of a slew of tasks, one of which being leaning against a desk and watching a model strut around in panties and a bra.
We hear Cutthroat before we see her, as she’s calling out, “Bianca Gomez! How old are you now?!” and upon hearing the ripe old age of 19, “Omigod, you look so cute in that lingerie!!” Well, at least she’s of age. She and LC become acquainted through a series of big smiles, handshakes, and looking each other up and down.
“You can call me LC. Someday I’ll own you.”
The action begins as Whitney plays with a Polaroid camera and LC helps Cutthroat do some casting of exotic lingerie-wearing models (who may or may not be Bianca Gomez) who parade around with out-of-control bouncing funbags. But don’t worry, this is equal-opportunity sexy time, and Kelly lays her critical eye upon one gentleman, whom she declares “perfect.” All we see of him is his dick arrow, but I can’t disagree with the woman.
Kelly whips around to see if LC’s paper-clipping collage task is finished and when she sees they’ve barely started, she groans, “OhmyGOOOODDDD you guys are so slow!” LC and Whit just look at her, look at each other, gesture wordlessly and sigh. But there’s no time for a comeback because Kelly just turns around and walks away. Indeed, there is no “pause” feature on the DVR of life, ladies. I’m sorry.
Kelly is already busy making someone else’s life miserable, namely Jessica, The Girl Who Fucked Up on last week’s episode (known on this one as Lara Flynn Boyle Circa 1987). Kelly Cutthroat commands her to move out of the goddamn way. “I know you don’t want to move, but you have to move,” she mutters, pointing a craggly finger in the general direction of “off-camera” just like the wicked queen in “Snow White.” Jessica, who fears her 15 minutes are just about up, sighs and nods meekly. Sorry honey, your anorexia’s just not doing much to advance your career. Make room for LC.
You’re breaking the 4th Wall!
LFBC-1987 makes one last attempt to either save her job or get a line on TV and suggests that LC go make phone calls, you know, like anybody else in their first hour of a job would do? But to no avail. “YOU can do that, WE’RE booking models here,” Kelly Cutthroat hisses.
Side note: gotta put some love out there for this one detail: it’s fucking MIKEY from everybody’s OTHER favorite show, “Pussycat Dolls Present: The Search For The Next Doll”!!!! I love to hate this bitch!
“5,6,7,8… You dance like a cow on steroids.”
Back at the Aryan compound, Spencer is inspecting some moldy bread to use for his Dagwood. Stephanie announces she’s Audi 5000 but doesn’t forget to take the time to berate dear brother about his overusage of turkey. I really think these kids should still live with their parents. They go back and forth for a bit on it, but all I can think watching this scene is how the framing looks like those split-screens they used to employ in the ’80s to use the same actor for two characters.
Spencer… vs. Spencer In A Wig
Spence gets around to inquiring about the night’s future events, and asks if Heidi is going. Stephanie, who, much like our great first president George Washington, can’t tell a lie, merely breaks eye contact and says “hmmm…” Good one. That’ll throw him off the trail!
“Depends what you mean by ‘Heidi’…”
Stephanie throws a few more insults over her shoulder on her way out, and we end the scene with a tight shot of Spencer and his beard-o-pensiveness. He must be really heartbroken over Heidi to not have shaved for two and a half days. Or perhaps it’s a strike beard? This woulda been filmed right around then. You can’t tell me someone as manipulative as Spencer Pratt wouldn’t get a writing credit.
Or perhaps he’s just growing out his Hulk Hogan ‘stache.
At S-Bar, Blahdrina and Chiara guzzle cocktails in their matching gray loungewear while the Blondie Power-Duo show up in their glittery, glossy best. Stephanie prattles (ha! Pratt.) on about how fucking lame her brother is while Heidi laughs wildly and obsessively straightens her hair. The both of them seem to be very excited but not slurring a bit. Methinks someone’s a little coked up!
Did you guys know that PR is located next door to Babeland? One stop shopping: models and vibrators on the same block! Whitney is still bragging about how great it is to work for a company that keeps her there until 3am, and LC is still wistfully musing about how leaning against racks of clothes and bossing around naturally thin girls is, like, her dream job. Just then, Cutthroat enters and harps on the girls once again to ALWAYS wear black! Jesus, when will these children learn to ditch the rods and only use their cones! Dream in shades of gray!
“Yeah, I barely got away with this necklace.”
Back at El Bar Del S, Blahdrina is lying about how great it is to be single and Stephanie encourages her to be so forever. I guess she’d be the Samantha in this group. Oooh, ooh! Blahdrina would totes be the Charlotte, Chiara would be the Miranda (since she seems to be the only one with gray matter) and… aw fuck no. Heidi does NOT get to be the Carrie.
“Spencer, I need some space! And maybe a touch of rhinoplasty!”
Spencer crashes the party by arriving with pal Kevin in tow, and I’m beginning to sense a running theme this season. Or maybe, this series. See, drama only happens when one person shows up to a club while the wounded one du jour is already present at said club. Their lives would all be a lot easier if they just went to more than one bar. And communicated openly and maturely about their emotions. And finished college. But then what would the rest of us do on Monday nights?
Anyway Stephanie, the good friend (and sister) that she is, alerts Heidi to Spencer’s presence, and moreover, that of a bevy of probably underage hangers-on flirting with him (I mean, what else would explain their presence?). “How did he know we were going to be here?” Heidi wonders aloud. Like a good manipulator, Stephanie remains silent and just kind of shrugs. Heidi starts hyperventilating when she sees the girls and goes all gangsta: “I will kill some bitch if she comes up to him!” Damn girl, hold it in the harness! I seriously hope we do not have a club shooting tonight. That would be terrific publicity for S-Bar. Heidi rants about her upcoming rage of jealousy and Blahdrina exclaims excitedly, “That’s how I am too!!” What, getting pissed when your former-but-maybe-still fiancÃ©e is out with other girls? Yeah, you and every other red-blooded female on the planet (except for maybe Mormons). How revelatory.
“Do you like shoes too?? I love shoes!”
Spencer continues to be flirtatiously demeaning to his new lady friends, buying them shots and criticizing the way they consume them. Stephanie keeps a close eye on them and reports to Heidi. “They’re taking shots? They’re taking shots. They’re taking shots?” Heidi blabbers, her disbelief in “reality” overwhelming her. I totally understand how she feels.
“Tell me you mean immunization shots.”
She and Spencer have a rendezvous in the bathroom waiting line, site of many a torrid affair and breakup alike. He calls her sanity into question while she mocks his singleness in a flurry of whiny Spencer impressions. It’s your basic Heidi/Spencer bicker sesh. The jailbait girls use this opportunity to slip by Heidi on their way to the bathroom to, ahem, powder their noses, and the four of them exchange pleasantries and possibly a recipe for a delicious Diet Coke Cake.
This is just a kinky ’90s Madonna video waiting to happen.
Heidi insists that she’s so mad that she doesn’t even want to talk to him. Then why don’t you shut your crazyface yap already? After a truly horrible commercial vehicle for Alicia Keys (seriously, still the best actress in that trio), LC pops into Blahdrina’s bedroom for a Sunday morning dishfest. It’s Laundry Day for Blah, which makes LC assume that she probably puked on her clothes so what did she get up to last night? Blahdrina pauses and looks around the room, but finds no “Lie” cue cards hanging around, so she breaks the news that she cheated on LC with Heidi. In about .2 seconds, LC’s face turns from slightly disinterested with a touch of condescension to full-on ice-cold bitch. Blah delightfully recounts the story of Last Night’s Drama like a 13-year-old girl trying to impress her older sister by describing her first cigarette. LC (not unlike that older sister) rolls her eyes with bored frustration. I feel ya, Lauren. I’m sick of that story line too. She does her part for the show though, and hints at some Heidi/Spencer espionage (now she’s just sounding like Brody!) then sighs, “Cool…” even though it’s anything but. The two of them just look at each other in silence and jerk their heads back and forth in terse nods. Blahdrina breaks the awkwardness with a comment on how gross it was to see Spence surrounded by MySpace-aged ho bags. Scraping up all of the vitriol that’s been bubbling in her tummy like bad sushi, Lauren sneers, “He probably paid them. Nobody would willingly touch that scum.” Dang! Well-written, m’lady. “Whoa, where did THAT come from?!” she asks herself. Why, from your script, silly!
“So you weren’t impressed with my cigarette story? I think maybe it was laced with marijuana. That’s cool, right?”
The next day at the big fat fashion show, we’ve switched to handheld cameras to denote the chaos and excitement of this event. And OH MY GOD you guys. Kelly Cutrone is NOT WEARING BLACK. It appears she’s taken a decade-old bedsheet, Puffy-Painted a rabbit on it, and draped it over her torso instead. How fashion-forward! She’s directing the girls’ model-call technique by making a whole lotta farm animal analogies. But how will we know who is a model, besides the amazing figure and eyes looking longingly at the craft services table? “Anyone who looks tall with her hair done.” Well that could be Whitney, for all we know!
As they set up for the show, there’s some big confusion about red vs. purple lighting. Actually, Whitney seems to explain it all with clarity, but LFBC-1987 just doesn’t seem to be able to comprehend the words coming from her mouth. Low blood sugar, perhaps? For the last two years?
“Mmm. You look like a cupcake.”
At Bolthouse, Barbie (Heidi) and Kewpie doll (wait, what’s her name? I always forget her. Oh Kimberly) are working late, discussing the placement of cabanas. Heidi just can’t seem to focus, and this worries Kimberly. Upon hearing the story of Last Night (or at least just the flirting part), she skews her face into adorable confusion. “Why would he want to do that?” Ummmm, I’ll just throw out a wild guess here and say he wanted to get laid? Heidi claims she’s never felt so betrayed. Except for that time with the Playboy Bunnies… and that time with Blahdrina…
Kelly Cutthroat would love the way this shot is dressed.
After Kimberly’s left for the night, Heidi rings up Spence, staring into nothingness with the steely gaze of a business woman who’s about to crush some souls. Oh, if only there were a soul to crush. She says they should meet up because they “need to talk” (never a good sign) and Spencer sounds downright joyful, as though he can’t wait to see her and call her insane. This may be a defense mechanism, but… wait a second. Hold the phones, if you will. Aren’t iPhones supposed to automatically turn off the screen function while you’re talking on it? Heidi’s is fully lit. I’m pretty sure this means there’s no one on the other end. It reminds me of when my brother was little and he used to talk on a fake cell phone, pretending to be a big shot businessman making deals on the road.
“Oh yeah?! You’re fired!”
And we’re back at the fashion show, where the likes of Jason Lee and Kirstie Alley have shown up to peek at the new styles of Whitley Kros. LC and Whit are in full gear, roundin’ up them models, and Whitney even climbs on a ladder to get someone’s attention. Now that’s dedication! You know, even LFBC-1987 managed to pull on a cute black cocktail dress for the occasion; why did Kelly Cutthroat feel the need to dress like a house painter (WEARING WHITE!) for this show?
A painter without a bra, no less.
In the back alley behind Bolthouse, Heidi climbs into Spencer’s ride like an incredibly well-groomed hooker from Hollywood Boulevard. The scene is reminiscent of the Great Pregnancy Scare of ’07. Let’s hope everything turns out just as anticlimactic this time around. Don’t worry, it does, and here’s what happens: Heidi says if he wants to be single, let her know. He says she made him single with “relationship vacay.” She says she just needed space (God, I’m so sick of her saying that). He says this is space, duh! She says she didn’t mean he should hook up with anyone. In defending himself NOT hooking up, Spencer’s voice reaches a falsetto I thought only possible by the likes of Freddie Mercury and that guy from The Darkness.
“You’re insane!” “No, YOU’RE insane!”
Spencer concludes that he doesn’t want to just sit around and wait for her to come back from the relationship Bahamas. The fight ends with silence and absolutely nothing resolved, yet again. I’ve gotta say, I’m on his despicable side this time. COME ON, Heidi, just make a decision. And make it the decision to leave him. Just rip him off like a pubic hair-faced Band-Aid.
Enough of that shit. Backstage at Whitley Kros, the show goes off without a hitch and Kelly comes bounding in, hi-fiving, exclaiming, “Oh Em Gee! Oh My God!” (Just in case you weren’t sure of the correct translation for OMG.) She calls Whitney a bitch-in-training and remarks that LC has gone “from slo-mo to fashion glow!” I wonder if she moonlights as a copywriter for Cosmo or something. She offers Lauren a full-time (hellish) position, so now Whitney won’t have to be written off the show! Yay! Poor LFBC-1987, however, seems to be getting pushed out of the limelight, as Cutthroat explains that they’re “making some changes to the L.A. office.” Tsk tsk. The poor girl makes one mistake and she gets attacked by the very people she’s working so hard for. (Maybe she forgot the fish tank episode too.) As Cutthroat, Whit & LC prepare to go to an afterparty, Kelly nonchalantly orders LFBC-1987 to get a taxi for her nanny & daughter to ride home in. Dude, THIS chick should have her own show. Imagine how much drama could be gleaned merely from her pensive, deer-in-the-headlights looks of constant semi-confusion. If only she would stop looking directly into the camera.
And straight into our souls.