This week on The Hills, Bustin is so much grosser than we thought, a slimy monster terrorizes the land, and Deadrina, bolstered by the power of her own cubicle, finally stands up for herself.
Nothing good ever happens when NASCAR comes to town.
Good morning! Our two favorite roomies greet each other in the kitchen where the impossibly thin Deadrina eats something out of a wrapper. We’ve seen her eat vegetables without dressing and meal replacement bars. She better watch that shit, ’cause I’ve never seen an eighty-year-old skinny lady savoring a Cliff Bar.
Deadrina has something to tell! Last night at the club, she ran into this girl who identified herself as….drum roll…. Stephanie Pratt. OMG! The Monchichi has a sister! She called Deadrina a bitch and told her that she and LC are “done.” I can’t wait to see this little nobody who thinks she can ruin the stars of the greatest television show in the world. Lauren says she knows her and she’s a “loony.” Well, you would be crazy too, if you looked like the Monchichi, Deadrina mock defends. Lauren dubs her “A She-Pratt.” Hahaha! They both make haunted house faces as they think about her. How ugly can she be? Then Lauren says she thinks a She-Pratt is worse than a He-Pratt because “at the end of the day”–uh, oh. Whenever anybody uses that expression, I feel sure they’re about to tell me something that makes no sense. Let’s see. “At the end of the day, guys can’t hit you, but girls can.” I don’t know, LC. Even a slap in the face would be better than the Monchichi mouthmobile. But, let’s get back to the fact that She-Pratt’s a hitter. Are we going to see a fight tonight? Place your bets, place your bets.
We don’t have to wait long to see how ugly she is. The She-Pratt makes a visit to Chez Janky. So, how ugly is she? Hard to tell. She’s a human oil slick. The shine coming off her face is so blinding you can’t see her features clearly. She’s definitely someone you’d avoid hugging so there would be no chance of her face contacting your skin.
What did your pores ever do to you?
As she enters the place, she exclaims, “Oh this is so nice,” like she’s never been there before. She notices the jellyfish aren’t home and the Monchichi tells her they went on vacation since the electricity went out when Heidi didn’t pay the bill. The he and Heidi have a slap fight over who was supposed to pay the electric bill. Uh, the one who has the job? I get it, since Speidi can’t seem to make any friends, they had to bring in this walking zit for them to talk to.
She-Pratt thinks she’s never seen two people more in love. Now we know how the Pratts were growed. They have one of THOSE families. Dinnertime at the Pratt house:
Mr. Pratt (to the Monchichi’s 4th grade friend who is spending the night): My wife was so pretty when I married her.
Mrs. Pratt: (silence)
Mr. Pratt: I never wanted to get married, but she wanted the whole thing.
Mrs. Pratt: (silence)
Mr. Pratt: If you ever get roped into it, go to a foreign country, the laws don’t stick.
Mrs. Pratt: (silence) I paid the electricity bill.
Mr. Pratt: Did I ask you to speak?
Mrs. Pratt: (silence)
Heidi asks She-Pratt if the parents know about the wedding, wait, does she even know? “Yeah, ” says She-Pratt, “Tibet!” “No!” protests Heidi. The She-Pratt counters that when she gets married she wants to go to Croatia. Guess you’re never going to Croatia. Unless you meet a guy who’s skin is made out of Italian bread. Could happen. Then the She-Pratt says it should be fun because you only get married once. If you’re lucky. I’d bet my grandmother’s farm that if Heidi marries the Monchichi, she’ll have at least two weddings in her lifetime.
The front door is squeaky. Would you rub your face on the hinges? Thanks sis!
The Monchichi chides Heidi about wanting get married in a church with their parents there. Heidi adds, “Yeah, with a priest who actually marries you.” When Heidi gets agitated she gesticulates with her fingers spread out. (Like when she’s singing and she knows she sucks at it). Right now, she looks like she’s holding an imaginary basketball. She-Pratt gets excited because she and her friend Roxy went online and became ministers, so she could marry them. I did that once, too. I think I’m ordained at a place called The Church of Good Times, but I can’t remember because I was high on life when I agreed to the terms. Here’s a question: How can one be both the minister and the maid of honor? That’s one more actor they’d have to hire. Heidi vetoes the idea anyway, and the Pratts laugh at how stupid she is. Heidi asks She-Pratt to stand up so she can put paper towels down underneath her so the couch doesn’t stain.
Over at the Clearskin Villas, our girls talk about where to go out that night, and they guess they’ll just meet up with Frankie and Brody at Opera. Bustin hasn’t called Deadrina back (“Surprise!” she jokes pitifully) so she doesn’t know if he’s coming. LC doesn’t think it’s that funny, telling her in the least judgmental sounding way she can muster that she has to have a relationship that functions in public. Deadrina agrees. She understands guys check out cute girls when you’re with them, but every single one? I mean, she doesn’t care, she just wants him to be more attentive and he’s not doing it. Whenever they’re out, he pretends he doesn’t know her, but when they’re together, they’re like, together. “If you guys were hermits, you’d have like the perfect relationship!” HAHAHA. LC’s on a roll this week. Except hermits don’t have lovers. If Thoreau had a lady, there’d be no Walden. If Deadrina were a hermit, there’d be no best-selling book of haikus. That’s the way of the world.
When we arrive at the Opera, we see Bustin sitting right next to Deadrina. He has a scarf on his head that looks like one of those old-timey towel things people would use when they were sick to capture the steam as they hover over a bowl of hot water. That is to say, he looks retarded. Brody arrives with kisses. Frankie asks Bustin where he’s been and Deadrina pathetically responds for him, saying he’s been in lala land and doesn’t have time for anybody, not even her.
There are no words.
Just then a greasy black mist permeates the air. Brody looks up, and screams, “OH MY GOD! IT’S THE SHE-PRATT! EVERYBODY RUN FOR SAFETY!” But before they can squeeze out of their booth and grab the 300-dollar bottle of Grey Goose, the She-Pratt’s gills sense fear coming from behind her.
“SSSSSSsssssss! Is that Brody I sssssssspy?” She-Pratt slides over to their table and asks Brody what he’s doing on “the evil sssside.” Then she demands that he come home with her as if she were the parent of an attention-seeking runaway child. Roxy, who looks like a girl from Long Island, over-plucked tranny eyebrows and all, tells Lauren and Deadrina they better stay away from Heidi. LC asks what she did. She-Pratt starts to say, “You made everyone hate her,” but catches herself and switches to, “Just because you hate my brother–!” Much better.
LC calmly tells her she doesn’t know her and that it’s really not her business. She-Pratt explains that it is her business, because, “When you hate my brother, it makes me hate you!” Like, duh, Lauren! The cycle of hate never ends! . I tried to figure out how old She-Pratt is, because no one goes up to someone to tell them they hate them. You just ignore, like civilized people. Super Brody, the only one who actually knows her, finally jumps in and tells the She-Pratt to back off, so she retreats, but as she does, she lifts her tail and slimes them all.
It’s kind of sweet how ugly girls always find each other.
Now, the editing gets tricky here, but what it looks like is Bustin makes eye contact with a redheaded chick wearing black lipstick and signals her to join him elsewhere. We see him cozy up to this Gothho in a different booth. Our clique strains and gawks to see what he’s doing. Lauren says, “Did he just kiss her?” We hear Brody say, “Oh my god,” as the camera catches glimpses of Bustin between people’s legs. Brody’s jaw drops. Deadrina looks stricken. Cut to commercial.
When we get back, Deadrina and LC are standing outside with what looks like two handlers: two chubby slightly older chicks on blackberries who don’t get captioned. They ask what happened and Deadrina tells them Bustin just “kissed some girl at the bar.” Deadrina says,” I’m done. I’m dead serious.” Then one of the handlers tells her he’s coming out. So these are the producers, orchestrating the drama.
As Bustin comes out, he’s with the redheaded Goth chick and he’s got his hand around her waist. Watching it in repeat, he slides his hand up and is squeezing her breast, when he suddenly sees that the cameras are still there, waiting for him. He pushes the redhead away and pulls the towel over his face. The redhead turns and grabs at him. He pushes her away. It’s appalling.
Wait a second! You’re eyes have life. Get away from me you slut!
He tries to pass by Deadrina and the cameras, holding hands with the redhead. Deadrina stops him and has to pull the scarf thing off his head. It’s so humiliating that the guy who is humiliating you is wearing a costume over his face. “What are you DOING?” He brushes by her so she is left to confront the girl. “I saw you guys kissing at the bar!”
“Are you kidding me? I did not kiss him! I did not… nothing him!” says the girl with a bit of a hick-twang. It is so humiliating when the girl your “boyfriend” is hooking up with is stupid or haggard, or both.
Deadrina tells her they all saw, but then realizes the girl is an idiot, and really not the problem. She says she’s done with both of them, and pushes the ho at Bustin, who is leaning against a railing, smoking and laughing.
Lauren rallies the two fat producer ladies (who are peeing their pantsuits with glee) to get them to the car. She tries to corral Deadrina. Bustin corners her for a second to ask her if this is what she really wants. They get her moving across the parking lot, Bustin loping behind them. Deadrina’s crying, saying she can’t believe it. LC tells her, “You know he did that though,” and Deadrina cries that she had to see it with her own eyes to believe it. It makes you feel sick to your stomach.
Until this episode, it was hard to tell what was going on between the two of them. But it’s clear now. They weren’t exclusive, but she wasn’t dating anyone else hoping he’d come around. He’s been dating or fucking anyone within his reach. Lauren’s right, though. Remember when he picked up that girl at Brody’s barbecue and left Deadrina there?
It gets worse. Bustin gets his arm around her and pulls her away. “I’m done,” she says. He responds that she’s said that to him “so many f*ing times” as if it’s no different this time either. Watching it, I’ve got my hands clenched into fists hoping this IS the time she means it.
They walk to a corner of the parking lot, next to a dumpster. I can’t tell you how many meaningful, problem-solving conversations I’ve had, drunk, late, standing next to a dumpster. Theirs is The Classic: Victim/Abuser. She doesn’t know what he wants from her (unsaid: since you seem to be able to get it from everybody else, too). He says, “Honey, you’re in my heart and I care about you so much more than you’ll ever know.” It makes you want to hit him. Why will she never know? Because a) He’ll never show her because “he doesn’t know how” b) He’s lying c) She’ll walk away now. The correct answer is b and hopefully, hopefully, c.
He pretends that he didn’t do anything, and slurs through some of his nonsensical vaguely poetic sayings to distract her. Deadrina points out he wouldn’t like it very much if she were dating other people, and it’s not fair for her to sit around waiting for him to call because he never does. He, surprisingly, agrees with all of this. He permits her to bail, if she “truly” thinks she can walk away from him. It’s manipulative and disgusting, and Deadrina is susceptible. She shakes her head, crying. He convinces her to get in the car the producers are driving. The only thing that would make this evening more operatic was if Deadrina suddenly jumped out of the vehicle, ran into the street, got run over by a car and was killed instantly.
She-Pratt slimes her way up the stairs to Chez Janky. Jesus, She-Pratt. Borrow the Monchichi’s laptop and google “Shiseido Blotting Paper.” STAT. People prone to migraines shouldn’t be around you; the shine coming off the different planes of your face would flatten them for days. Come to mention it, the Monchichi is a little oily this morning. Heidi has a perfect matte finish as usual.
Runs in the family.
All the more to hide your true feelings with, my dear! As She-Pratt tells the story of the Opera the night before, Heidi listens with reservations. She’s shocked that She-Pratt confronted Lauren, but doesn’t register any reaction when She-Pratt reveals that she thinks they are now BEST FRIENDS. Take a good look. The Shiny Twins are your family now. Lauren was right; She-Pratt is a loon, because her assessment of the whole group is that Bustin is the nicest one of them all. As the Monchichi and She-Pratt trade thank you’s and congratulations on a job well done, Heidi is put off. She tries to change the subject, saying she’s sick of talking about those people. The Monchichi says snidely to his sister, “Oh, let’s get Heidi some ear muffs!” She laughs hard, not because he misspoke, but because they’re both people without any class.
Next day, Deadrina tells her co-worker Chiara about Opera. Where’d they get this Chiara? She looks like they bussed her in from Buffalo! Maybe a SUNY student? Can’t you see her in a Bills sweatshirt, wearing stuffed animal slippers, offering you a slice off her Pillsbury cookie dough roll with a butter knife she stole from the dining hall?
There’s a Nancy McKeon movie on Lifetime if you just wanna stay in a curl each other’s hair…
Deadrina tells Chiara that she and Bustin didn’t talk at all on the car ride home and she had her “friend Kelsey” drop him off at his apartment. Oh, so he doesn’t stay at the Y? Bustin apparently wanted her to come inside so they could talk about everything, but Deadrina insists she told him it was over and that she was “dead serious” (which I get a kick out of every time). Chiara says, “Yeah, well, there’s only so much abuse” –then she rolls her eyes up and repeats the word “abuse” like she doesn’t really mean it. Oh, Buffalo Gal, feel free to talk plain. That’s what your people are known for. Deadrina says she has to end it for real tonight, I guess, because Bustin was too drunk to take her dead seriously.
Bustin rolls up to Deadrina’s apartment. No honking tonight. But he does ring the doorbell repeatedly to signal his arrival. We get it, Bustin. You need a lot of attention. I’ve seen your kind before. They’re called narcissists. Look it up. Write a poem about it. Tell people you are one. Tell them you’re looking for Goldmund. Create the mystique.
He’s got his hair pulled back in a bun like a Mexican dishwasher, and without the locks, he’s not as attractive as he’d led me to believe. He’s somewhat tired, but not too tired to come get his last face time. Come on, Girl. DO IT! Deadrina tells him she needs to move on. He plays the fool, saying he doesn’t know why or what the f happened last night. “You didn’t kiss her?” Deadrina presses. “No,” he says.” I don’t even know who you’re talking about. And even though I was caught lewdly squeezing her breast on camera, I did not place my mouth on her lips.” Then he accuses Deadrina of taking hallucinogenics.
More water on table ten and if we catch you spitting in food again it’s back to Benito’s Tacos with you, buddy.
When she says all her friends saw, too, he replies that of course they did. They’ve never “fathomed” him, so of course they told her he kissed someone else. Au contraire, I think they fathomed you just right, playa. He tells her he likes spending time with her and he doesn’t want that to end. Jeez, how romantic, how compelling. She interrupts him to say, “It’s hopeless.” It is so true and clear that he has to accept it. So he does.
A parting limerick:
There once was a stylist called Bustin
Who was vaguely poetic and lustin’
He got caught in the act
(Wish he got punched in the sack)
So he lied but our girl didn’t trust him
Dang, girl, this could’ve all been yours.