Last we saw the giant box-shaped house in Turks & Caicos, Queen B was getting a little crass with Lady Morgan, shouting at her to shut the fork up over and over again. After dinner Holla and Radzi retreat to the comfort of their shared room to admire their shoe collection and hide from So. They are tired of the whole subject. Not tired of it are Beth and Mo, who comfort each other on the patio couch. They are mutually concerned, at least at this moment, about So’s “self-medication” with men and alcohol. Mo feels she set So off by calling her on her shiitake to her face. Beth is not going to make any sort of diagnosis out of it, but Mo assesses So as her own worst enemy; if we’re honest about it, most of us are our own worst enemy. Like all things with Mo the conversation naturally turns back to Mo Herself and the two jilted broads melt into a puddle of sorrow over the breakdown of the Singer marriage. Mo wishes she knew how to fix him. Somehow I suspect Mario is perfectly happy getting “unfixed” by Mo.
Morning comes, like it always does, and the hot chef returns to make omelets. I am in love. Radzi would prefer a big bowl of blueberries, thanks, because she doesn’t eat. I liked her a lot better before I realized she doesn’t appreciate food. Ding dong! Who is it? It’s Milli Vanilli, here to teach yoga!
The topless Kountess returns from the beach to lie down with the other hippies, but Doritos doesn’t exercise and So prefers more passive methods of receiving inner peace, so they go upstairs to Doritos room to rant and shout out the window about what a classless beyotch Queen B is with her “style” of swearing at people when she’s trying to make a point.
Doritos thinks Beth has no education or manners. I tend to agree, but somehow I suspect Beth would too, so that zinger goes pfffftt. Doritos’ advice to So is that next time she should tell Beth not to be so “interested” in her. So is confused because she wants EVERYONE to be interested in her all the time! Attention comes with recordkeeping with this crowd, Doritos warns. Conflicted, So wails about how Holla is LYIN’ when she says she has dragged her drunk ass up to her bed in the SoStone, because the only person who deals with dragging So’s drunk ass anywhere is MO, dammit! Speaking of, where is that bitch?
Mo materializes like an aging fitness model in her hot pink bikini and takes So out to the beach to throw Beth under the bus. All these girls think So has a MAJOR drinking problem, she tells So, and BETH called her an alcoholic. Unfortunately Beth just happens to be paddling by and stops over to find out what Mo’s up to; if Beth’s going under the bus, she’s taking Mo with her.
And Kountess Lu, too; the Kountess has been saying she has to drag So’s drunk ass home from hitting on other people’s men every night. Conveniently, that’s when the Kountess strolls up, chirping brightly. “I made you eggs!” as though the hot chef wasn’t the scrambler. “Get out of my shit!” shrieks So, storming off.
Up on the patio, So is now RAVING. She is sick of being “so nice” to everyone who in return do nothing but gossip about her behind her back. Beth points out that she actually talked to her face. “Bullshit, bullshit!” sputters So. “It’s a mish-mash of shit!” Doritos and Mo scramble to cover their own contributions to the shittalk, while Beth acknowledges that she’s doing more harm than good and they need to just let So go down her own rabbithole, so the rest of the ladies make a pact not to talk about So’s Shituation any further and whoever does has to contribute $100 to Dress For Success, which immediately profits $500.
So’s so mad that she, the pretend hostess, is not going to go on the booze cruise scheduled for that afternoon and she stays home to do lunges in her wedges and wash the dishes while talking to herself.
The rest of the ladies, meanwhile, board the mighty vessel Southern Cross to lunch, flash their ladybits at each other, talk about pubescaping, and let Mo kiss ass to get off everyone’s shit list before pouring a bucket of water over her head.
Having doused Mo and her new rubber ta-tas, these bitches are bonded for life.
The evening’s activities are an excursion to a restaurant called “Fire and Ice”, and So has spent enough time feeling sorry for herself alone that she isn’t going to let them go out without her, because she’s short on attention at this point and, besides, there might be men there. But she’s not gonna give these bitches a thing to say about her, at least for an hour or so until the itch takes over. It takes two Suburbans to get them there and when car 2 gets there first, Doritos hollers to Holla to wait up. Whether or not Holla hears this, she doesn’t respond the way Doritos wants her to, which inexplicably causes Doritos to burst into tears and yell at Holla for being cruel. Holla is confused and so am I; somehow they heal. With So on her best behavior, dinner goes fine and they end up talking about Mo n’ Mario. Again. I’m really not that interested in a pair of washed up, wandering old goats, but Doritos would have you know that back in the day of parachute pants and hair spray, those two were MAJAH.
Day 3 finds Lu out in the ocean without her top, again, and Beth in the kitchen, because she’s a chef, you guyz, and homeless as she is she hasn’t had a chance to cook in a while so she’s gonna make lunch. SoMo would rather go out, so they go off to round everyone else up and leave Queen B sauteeing her mushrooms alone. So thinks maybe they should ask Beth if she “minds”, as she chops and slaves away, but Mo is sure this is going to be no big deal because they TOLD Beth they wanted to go out to lunch and all she did was visibly bristle, she didn’t, like, burst into tears or throw a knife or anything. Beth comes storming out of the kitchen and tells Mo she’s a real shit and is “manic”. It’s all about Mo Mo Mo Mo Mo! So much for the detente.
Next time: the wheels continue to roll, roll away. No one is safe, people.
