The Hills: Stephanie Pratt, The Great Uniter

“Steady…. don’t make me laugh! Dead puppies. Baseball. The Montauk Monster.”

I’m not sure if MTV is still promoting that whole “Rock The Vote” campaign, but if they are they’re doing a very bad job of it (I’m looking at you, Diddy). That’s because last night, as Michelle Obama and Ted Kennedy were giving their inspirational speeches about changing the world and moving our great nation forward, MTV was airing the first “The Hills” episode in, like, a year to show the entire cast in the same room at the same time. But don’t worry, that’s why recap sites exist. Yes, dear reader, I watched this ever-growing pile of shiny glittering shit so that you could watch the Democratic Convention. You did, right?

“My husband… will ensure that no child will grow up to be as spoiled and obnoxious as Heidi Montag.”

After a menacing recap intro, we find our lovely LC and lovely-when-you’re-drunk Stephanie at Fit’Em. Isn’t it adorable how they still pretend to go to school, shooting in the same classroom every semester? (by the way, by “classroom” I mean set and by “semester” I mean season.) Shouldn’t they be on summer vacay by now? Don’t even try to tell me these brats take summer classes, I don’t buy it. In class, the teacher commands the class to “take out their magazines,” I can only assume for their weekly Tabloid Analysis. Hope LC studied hard for that one. They take notes furiously while Stephanie announces in a none-too-subtle whisper that her birthday is coming up. Wow, summer must be a booming time for cake shops in Los Angeles. Stephanie mentions the party will be at Boulevard 3 – on Sunset for all you spoiled hipsters who want to follow in your idol’s footsteps, literally – and LC graciously invites herself, asking whether she can bring a guy. Stephanie’s face drops and she mutters sadly, “You have a guy in your life?” I can’t figure out whether the touch of disappointment in her voice signifies her frustration that LC didn’t tell her about him, or that LC still likes guys. It could go either way.

“But… you didn’t even change your Facebook Relationship Status!”

LC happily chirps on about how Duhg is an injured athlete, to which Stephanie excitedly proclaims her preferral of athletes over any other type of man. Except pot dealers and wealthy old men about to kick the bucket. Those are at least on par. Stephanie assures LC that she can bring her new piece of ass with her to the party and that Spencer and Heidi will almost definitely not be there, even though she invited them and they don’t have lives of their own. They agree that Spence and Heidi are dramonsters and yet happily agree that probably nothing crazy will go down. Take us to the credits, Natasha!

“This week in InTouch, Mischa Barton donned an atrocious off-the-shoulder floral print.”

Later, the Brangelina of the reality TV world (that would be LC and Duhg) have brunch at Creperie, happily sipping coffee and basking in the glow of young re-love, LC ignoring the trashy soap opera her life has become and Duhg blissfully unaware of the shitstorm he’s about to walk into. “You know what I really really wanna find?” LC asks him. Hmmm, let’s see. Friends she didn’t meet through a casting agent? Anyone on earth who will ever tell her “no” to anything? The answer to all those pesky conflicts in the Middle East? “Our prom pictures!” she announces. Damn. You know, it wouldn’t be that hard to re-create them. You had the exact same long highlighted hair, even tan, and wore the same MAC eyeliner back then that you do now. After a wee convo about that fascinating topic (they’ve known each other for a long time, get it?), Duhg actually asks her how things are going with Blahrina. I know he was probably told to ask about her, but it’s still sweet. Usually the guys don’t really give a shit about the girlfriends, unless it’s to declare their undying hatred for them.

On an unrelated note, has anybody noticed how much Duhg looks like one of those models from the ads on Match.com? You know when you log out of MySpace or whatever and suddenly this hot guy comes up in a clip that makes him look like he’s just sitting around with his Macbook, ready for some poor sap of a girl to come along and fulfill all of his commitment-drenched dreams of making babies and playing with puppies all day long?

ONLINE NOW! WAITING TO CHAT WITH YOU!!

Yep. Anyway, as LC explains the Blah/Lo tension, Duhg begins to remark, “Everybody in your life…” It’s okay, you can say it. “sucks” or “is a jerkface” or “is only around you because they might become famous” or “is a vapid bitch” will even do. Luckily for LC’s war-torn heart, he saves nicely by rearranging his statement. “Your life is hectic.” Understatement of the year, cutie pie.

“How about I rub your feet and make you a nice chocolate soufflè?”

He encourages her to skip work, just play hookie so he can get some nookie. Possibly in a threesome with a wookie. Yes, we see that diligence instilled in all Laguna-bred children, none of whom can seem to fight the urge to ditch their responsibilities to actually earn anything. Except, of course, our beloved Lauren, who claims, “My work IS fun!” Well, good for her. Maybe there’s some work ethic in there after all.

She asks what he’s up to that weekend and he sweetly, bashfully admits “nothing,” giggling as though embarrassed at the prospect of not having seven Hollywood parties to attend. Huh. I’m not very comfortable with this seemingly honest stud-muffin. Shouldn’t he be trying to squirm out of commitment or something? I like him, and he’s good for Lauren, and that only spells one thing: bad ratings.

“Don’t worry. We’ll turn you in no time.”

She warns him that she doesn’t get along with the brother of the birthday girl. Ha, yet another understatement! At this point, if he hadn’t (or, hell, even if he HAD) seen the show, wouldn’t some red flags fly up and do an Irish jig in the air, finishing with fireworks, when you realize that all of your new lady’s friends despise each other yet still hang out together?

Over at Epic Records, Blahdrina is firing off some industry buzzwords and corny-sounding band names that were either totally made up or who paid to be mentioned. Or maybe the producers just wanted the show’s recappers to be forced to Google “Real Naked Girls.”

By the by, this is what you’d get if you were to theoretically Google that.

Chiara is dressing for her “homely pal” role in a nice, furry cowl-neck sweater that looks like a bunny that ate Pam Anderson’s wardrobe. Also, between her hair tonight and Blah’s last week, I’m beginning to think Epic confiscates its employees combs and hairbrushes upon hiring.

“I think I stashed an Afro pick stashed somewhere around here…”

Okay, I really shouldn’t make too much fun of Chiara, because I actually like her and she’s the only genuinely, naturally attractive human being on this pitiful show, despite her unkempt hair. Anyway, Blahdrina mentions her plans for the evening as going to Stephanie’s par-tay at Boulevard 3 (remember?), and strangely classifies Lo and LC as going together. This brings to mind a few wee loopholes, producers! 1) Since when is Blahdrina a friend of Stephanie’s of her own volition and 2) They all live in the same goddamn house; why in hell wouldn’t they all go together?? If you can bear to share a lease, you can at least carpool to the same shitty club for the sake of tired old Mother Earth (who, by the way, is pretty fucking sick of your shenanigans).

Anyway, Blahdrina explains the whole Awkward-Lo-Convo to Chiara, who immediately declares her allegiance to Team Blahnettes and they raise their Nice ‘N’ Easy #309 (Butter Cocoa) in solidarity.

“Wow, what a story! This is the first I’ve heard of it!”

After a stereotypically awful pop-punk transition, we find ourselves at People’s Revolution, which, curiously, is no longer sharing street space with Babeland.

Or maybe the sign was just painted out in post.

Oh where is my beloved anorexic Jessica? You remember her, the girl that dressed like Lara Flynn Boyle Circa 1989 and kept fucking up all last half-season? I was so loving to hate her and her awkward deer-in-the-headlights stares straight into the camera. Anyway, as LC and Whit pretend to work, Whit excitedly explains how she was “like, totally invited to dinner” with Her Cuntiness Kelly Cutrone and some other higher-ups from PR. LC smiles with absolute lifelessness in her eyes. Even for her. Late night, Princess Buttercup?

Apple + Shift + Smile

Whitney describes her nervousness about going to a work-related dinner. She’d better just hope she doesn’t get blasted and say something totally inappropriate to her boss (something like Her Cuntiness). It’s terrible when that happens. Believe me. LC changes the topic by spreading the good word about the shindig at BOULEVARD THREE! Oh my God, we fucking get it. You got your money’s worth, Blvd.3. I swear. All the starlet-wannabes will be lined up tomorrow night donning their finest one-sleeved formless dresses and doltish douchebags on their arms. Happy now?

Over the shrill cries of K. C-face in another room, LC claims that, most likely, Spence’n'Heidi won’t be in attendance for the festivities. “Um, why would they NOT be there?” Whitney wisely opines, as though she’s asking why a young debutante would possibly wear a bra but NO panties?

“It just makes NO SENSE!”

LC’s all, Fuck if I know, to which Whitney reasons, “She’d tell you if they were comingk, right?” Psshhh yeah right. If YOUR $8,000 per episode (paltry, by “The Hills” standards) depended on it, would YOU tell her? “It’s no fun when we end up in the same place,” LC says. Yeah, it’s no fun. Except for US! And even then, it’s kind of meh. Just then, Whitney is beckoned to the back room by Kelly Cutthroat, so naturally the girls sit there and flip their hair with the tired, disinterested expressions of socialites just paid to breathe and wear brown nail polish.

“Sigh. Where’s that P.A. with my fucking Red Bull?”

The hallowed eatery of Don Antonio’s must have lost a lot of dough whilst our on again/on again lovers were (not really) on the outs. Luckily their promotion machine has returned, and it’s making baby talk about chicken tacos. Spencer checks his ringing phone under the table while Heidi roots around in her purse for a tampon, or possibly a cynide capsule. Perhaps we’re witnessing the return of the Homeboy Phone? Although, I didn’t think that phone got reception anymore. Does he even still HAVE homeboys?

“Oh cool! Tom from MySpace just posted a new bulletin about format changes!”

Good to know the isolation works both ways in their relationship. He says it’s probably just Stephanie calling to confirm his call time the next night at BOULEVARD 3, that’s on SUNSET BOULEVARD! Regardless of her insistence, Spencer Prattles on about how much he loathes LC. Really? Huh. This is all news to me! As my friend said earlier this week, “Basically, you can miss five straight episodes of this show and still nothing has actually happened.” I’d be willing to go one step further and venture a guess that you could skip an entire season and miss nothing.

Getting back to the “LC Hatred” club meeting, Heidi agrees, saying, “It’s so disrespectful, a’ight!” complete with sassy head swing. If she dares say “sistah friend” I will puke chicken tacos all over her bleached little head. And yet, Heidi, ever the bridge-builder, claims that they should go in the name of family. And also because, you know, if they don’t, the editors will get SO BORED! Fuck, I know they’re gonna go and I’m already bored. Spencer agrees to go, but he swears this is the LAST STRAW! At least until next week.

Because clearly, this is the face of reason.

Upon our return from commercial break, we’re treated to some brain-building music set to the lyrics, “Hollywood, la la la.” And, conversely, “Hollywood: la la la!!” Well, what else can we expect from this city?

Standard-Issue L.A. Uniform

Tramp Stamp right on your shirt!

At the LauLoBlahteau, as the Ls get ready for their night out, they weigh the likelihood of the Soul Sucker Duo showing up. Is this really that up in the air, honestly? Lauren waxes philosophic about her naïve personality. “I want to think you can trust everyone,” she sighs, which would explain why she surrounds herself with the most empty hangers-on in television history. All this as Lo regards herself in the mirror, eerily resembling the Wicked Queen in “Snow White.”

“Bring me her heart in a jeweled box.”

Blah appears out of nowhere and asks what time they’re leaving. LC is peppy and friendly, and, as new-usual, she looks to Lo for approval and is met only with the eviscerating glare of a jealous, scheming wife.

Meanwhile (or, according to the timeline established earlier in the episode, earlier that week), at dinner with the PR Peeps, Kelly is looking as fresh as ever. I imagine that her closet is the size of my apartment and is filled with variations on the black/shapeless theme. Or maybe she just rolls out of bed every single day and keeps on the same shirt she ripped off a homeless guy’s back. Seriously, you’d think someone who’s in the image business would take the time to change her shirt before going out for a nice dinner with colleagues.

Paging Stacey and Clinton…

Moving on. Ooooh! YES! LFBC1989 is here!! This dinner must be tough on her. Come on, Pink Flamingo, look alive!

“Chew, but don’t swallow.”

As Kelly Cuntface offers unwitting Whitney a travel opportunity, Jessica silently stares her down, possibly hoping to burn a hole through Whit’s pretty little face.

“FAIL. FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.”

It occurs to me that maybe Whitney is simply Pink Flamingo’s Emily of Teen Vogue New York. Maybe in some parallel universe called New York, there’s a reality TV show about Pink Flamingo, and all of these shots are used to show how fucking perfect Whitney is, while little Pinkie is just trying to make it on her own.

Actually I love her as a character, because she’s a source of subtle, intense drama without saying one goddamn word in four of the six episodes she’s been in. It’s all in the face. She’s like the Meryl Streep of reality TV.

But just as I type that, she starts talking. Ew, no, no, I don’t like it when you’re talking. And evidently, neither does K. Cutthroat, who waves her sentences away like a swarm of mosquitoes and repeats, “No. NO. NO! It’s my company, and the answer to that is no!” I don’t even have a vague idea what the poor girl said that was so wrong, but apparently it was completely off the mark, because then Cutthroat becomes utterly hilarious by declaring the following fate for Pink Flamingo: “YOU: Pretty pretty happy happy pitch stories!” Succinct enough. Who needs syntax, or useful verbs? And I’m sorry, I really am because this Pinkie is probably a very nice girl in real life, but she’s too downright gaunt to be pretty (even by L.A. standards), too hungry to be happy, and you won’t let her talk so there goes the last requirement. Whitney just covers her mouth like she’s afraid to talk. I would be too if I were here.

“Don’t say Cuntface, don’t say Cuntface…”

Some un-partyish, wahp-wahp music plays as Lau/Lo drive to the club, but who cares when Lo looks like a million bucks?

Maybe she’s born with it; Maybe it’s Mark, by Lauren Conrad!

The girls bond over their coincidental shared love for birthday parties. Sometimes you just know you’ll be friends forever! Lauren hopes Blah will come, and Lo evilly claims that she has “no reason not to.” Yeah, only your constant cold stares every time you’re forced to share the same air with her. But that shouldn’t push anyone away. Lo giggles that they’re all getting along, and LC smiles that no, they’re actually not, and Lo finishes up with the popular-girl classic, “Well, all the ones who matter are getting along.” Jesus Christ, is she cheerleader co-captain and dating the quarterback too? LC has either just run out of battery power or realized that her best friend is a total See-You-Next-Tuesday.

Or maybe this is just saved in her database as Blank Stare 34,0880

NOW the punchy music kicks in. So apropos, as well: “Like a movie star/cruising Sunset Boulevard/I pull up to the club/a scene from film new-oir” go the lyrics. Hmmmm, you guys, I wonder where Boulevard 3 is located? At da club, Steph is already super drunk, super orange-tan, and super, ahem, energetic as she exchanges enthusiastic hugs with her gal pals of late. In rapid succession, Blahdrina, Brody, Frankie and Duhg show up for their respective drinks. Yay, let’s all celebrate the existence of Stephanie Pratt. Sake bombs on me! Duhg is introduced to Stephanie, who I think we’re supposed to believe looks away shyly, but it seems more like bad camera work and an overdubbed line to me.

LC gets up to hug Brody while Duhg looks on with a possible jealousy alert. However, he’s friends with Bro-day so he shouldn’t care, right?

Aw, cutie. I can’t wait to hate you!!

Lo and Blahdrina sit across from each other and Lo saccharinely tells Blah she looks pretty, following up with a frightening, unsmiling face.

“NOW YOU TELL ME I’M PRETTY TOO.”

“Umm…. I’m good…” Blah cautiously ventures. “OKAY GOOD!” squeals Lo, and it’s all smiles from there, her face returning to its normal semblance of a lipsticked cupcake. Then, in a very odd and unsettling turn, she declares compulsively, “I’m really glad we talked!!” Uh, talked about what? The fact that you detest and wish a slow, excruciating death upon each other? Blahdrina’s face reads the same sentiment. She looks to the Blonde Side of the room and, realizing she’s outnumbered, retrieves her black leather jacket (cough, cough, SECURITY BLANKET, cough cough) and gets ready to get the hell out of there.

Just the icing on this yummy shrew cake.

Just then, or maybe three hours later, dear brother Spencie and his wench show up bearing a very classy bouquet of mylar balloons he just picked up from CVS. This insane plot twist warrants a nice reaction 4-shot:

I’ll break it down for ya:
Lo: “I am shocked. SHOCKED!”
Lauren: “Good. Keep doing those reaction shots and you’ll be pulling in your 35K per episode in no time.”
Steph: “I’m so glad my brother came! Maybe he brought me some coke!!”
Random Brunette: “LC’s boyfriend is really fucking hot.”

Now, I’m not sure why Stephanie constantly insists on saying, “YOU’RE LYING!” even when presented with simple physical truths, such as a cake and balloons being handed to her, but she does it anyway. Meanwhile, everyone at the table is uncomfortable. But you know what, America? If I’m supposed to believe this is reality, then I’m on Stephanie’s side. It’s her goddamn birthday. He’s her brother. She can invite whoever she wants. Of course he’s an emotional infant but she can’t not invite her own flesh and blood because some bitchy friend might feel awkward. And if LC was a real friend (and Spencer was a decent brother), they’d at least be civil to each other for her sake.

But this isn’t reality; it’s reality TV. And that calls for a good bar brawl. Or at least a good bar passive-aggressive non-confrontation. The ridiculous thing is, it’s Broday who ups the drama by peacing out early. Spencer matches his immaturity by commanding his sister to “get those obnoxious chicks away.” (Oh, the chicks in question are LC and Lo. Just in case you didn’t get it by now. Because Spencer hates them.) In the corner, poor Duhg looks bewildered, and really I just want to cradle him in my bosom and whisper, “There, there, sweetie. You have no fucking idea what kind of a circus you just put yourself into.” In other news, Stephanie’s looking more and more like Bonnie Tyler every day.

“Turn around, Bright Eyes!”

“So…” Stephanie says after every single other person at her birthday party has left because of Spence’N'Heidi, “… I’m really surprised you guys showed up.” Awkward pause. “Looks like we surprised someone else even more!” Spencer laughs maniacally. Then he steals a pot of gold and runs off with a screaming damsel. Granted, the damsel has boobs he paid for and is only faking it, but it still makes for good TV.

Don’t worry, you can strike a deal with him by offering him your firstborn son.

The next scene is introduced with the lyrics, “Who needs class when you’ve got money?” Oh honey, truer words have never been placed in front of the teenage masses. At Stephanie’s apartment, Spencer rolls in and makes a joke about his own slovenliness, and as Steph only half-laughs and leads him to her spectacularly bland living room, we immediately realize this is a setup for a “talk.” Yes folks, this is an “I wanna forgive/forget you.” This is a “YOU KNOW what you did!!” This is a “Jordan, you just don’t treat me like a princess. And every girl deserves to be treated like a princess!” (which, by the way, is decidedly NOT true. Which is why “Exiled” is going to be awesome.) Speaking of slovenly, you’d think that Stephanie could have thrown on some lipstick or something. I mean, good God. You’re on NATIONAL television, woman!

A startling look into Stephanie’s future as a Florida “trophy” wife.

Okay. So. In the process of explaining his unwavering disappointment in his sister, Spencer uses some examples of nautical physics as well as Israeli political metaphors, all of which boil down to the simple “rule” that a person can only be friends (and/or family) with one person at a time. Boom. I just saved you fifteen minutes of your life you would never be able to get back. Too bad you just wasted it reading the above four or five pages.
Anyway, there’s no overlapping allowed! It makes sense, really. If it weren’t true, Heidi would have more than one number in her precious iPhone. In the end, Spencer complains that he can’t “make you un-my sister.” Wait what? He disowns his sister and I laugh a little inside, wondering how he’s going to explain this to the Elder Pratts.

“See this? This is two more friends than you’re allowed to have!”

Back at PR, Kelly is berating someone by seething, “If you’re such a ‘good assistant,’…” at which point I would probably just go ahead and be a good assistant to someone else. Okay Gasmii, I present this pop quiz to you. Which of the following does Kelly Cutrone desperately need?

a. A nice, long shower.
b. A nice, long cock (or pussy, whichever she prefers! I don’t judge. At least not in this case).
c. About 30 hours of sleep.
d. A goddamn cocktail.

E. All of the above

Now come on. Imagine how good she’d be to her employees if she even got ONE of those things. Unfortunately, none of it’s on the menu for a high-powered female executive, so she just fired Jessica.

“Uh-oh… O. Snapp’s gonna be PISSED.”

Ergo, Whitney now is offered the coveted bicoastal slave life and the end of eating as she knows it. Kelly Cuntface’s only caveat is that Whit needs to work on her ability to delegate. Really, Blondie has a hard time being bossy? I find that hard to believe. Her Cuntiness also slips in a little advice to not make any plans “for the next coupla months.”

“I now own your soul…. AND IT IS DE-LI-CIOUS!!!! Mwah ha ha ha…”

Sigh, are we there yet? Almost. Hang on with me, peeps. At Fit’Em, LC is preparing her Powerpoint presentation on this month’s “Lucky” magazine when StephPratt breezes in donning sunglasses fit for a super-naco ’80s cokehead queen. Hey, if the sunglasses fit, you gotta wear ‘em.

“And they were the last pair at Sunglass Hut!”

She bows down to the altar of LC, apologizing for her brother’s appearance at HER OWN birthday and promises that this was the last time! She swears! She doesn’t even care about them anymore! It’s like LC’s her wife or something. And she’s been cheating with her brother. Wait, ugh.

In any case, LC is NOT amused. She’s got a little bit of the Cutthroat in her, I see.

Steph begs for forgiveness and, just to turn the screws a bit, LC takes her down a peg by reminding her that all of her friends hate her. Way to go, LC. That’s the manipulation I’ve grown to love about… absolutely no one on your show.

So that’s it for this week. At least I got one laugh out loud from Kelly’s “Pretty pretty happy happy” line. What was your fave moment this week, if any? I’m getting sick of all these pathetic characters. Give me a show filled with the Emilys and the Pink Flamingoes of the world! See you on the boards, suckas!