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‘The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City’ Season 2, Episode 17

What do you think of the teasers? Unless we’re talking about an order of curly fries for the table before the main course arrives, I’m the “nothing for me, thanks” team. At least when it comes to Bravo. I will read Reality Steve as interpreted by the Samaritans of Reddit until my brain falls out of my nostrils in vain hopes of distinguishing Single universe blond white ladies. But Andy Cohen being a silly, promising little goose”breathtaking bombsYou don’t need them! The bar is already set too high. What could be more mind-blowing than seeing someone get arrested for multiple federal crimes while someone else faces the possibility of leading a cult? And now I’m on red alert for this bombshell instead of just quietly watching my second favorite TV show, “girls might fight to the death”.

Speaking of which, we start right where we left off on the bus, with Lisa and Jen mutilating each other like two toddlers in a rusty McDonald’s PlayPlace fighting over the last lick of a dried container of sweet and sour sauce. Producer Shanae saves everyone’s eyeballs from being ripped out of their sockets, and Jen tries to swing her outburst into another stop on What-about-Omar’s-prom sympathy tour. That works. Jen and Lisa cry dry-eyed directly into each other in hopes of producing a single tear by force of will. Heather administers fuel for proper tear duct function (Smartfood White Cheddar Popcorn). They all agree that Jen should have the best room in the villa. Ramona Singer, watch your back!

Upon arriving at the villa, everyone completes their husbands’ FaceTiming “setup ritual” and speculates on how much the other girls must have had. Heather, in an Old Navy x Margaret Atwood look, obviously skips the hubby piece and tells Whitney she thinks Jen is drunk and hurt. Shit, well done. It better be some sort of red herring because I don’t know if I’ll survive a payback redemption story from season three. I’m already a Luann apologist. I’m pretty sure my soul will burn if I have to cheer on Jennifer Shah as she becomes this bitch who doesn’t really do her stage work, who you can’t help but love because she always brings Spindrift and the ‘fresh spensif -cookies from the bakery every Encounter.

Luckily, it looks like that’s not happening anytime soon. At the pool, Jen rips off her extension and throws it at Lisa, who enlightened us with two new bits of information. These may be Andy’s “Breathtaking Bombs”. (1) She was working at Hooters (right after Mary M. Cosby, that would have been my last guess as to who has that specific service industry experience on the old resume), and (2) She decided to “start being much meaner because being nice doesn’t work”, implying that she thinks she’s nice to begin with. What a gas!

Knock, knock, knock, and it’s a few shoulder pads well on their way to sentience as they slowly gnaw at Mary and Meredith’s bodily forms. They better hurry, though, because sunlight is limited and white purity garments are imperative for Whitney’s Mormon sacrament meeting—I mean, “Red Earth Ceremony.” Spiritual healer Betina isn’t expecting anyone, so Meredith is forced onto the bus in her flared denim tuxedo. Mary stays behind as she still needs time to adjust the Thom Browne baseball cap which may or may not be stuck to her head, Matilda style.

At the maze, the ladies clutch their bundles of gratitude and proclaim what they’re about to give up – a task no one understands because everyone’s response is a different flavor of mental gymnastics landing on “I’m practically perfect, and the others are the problem.” Thirty-four minutes later, with everyone struggling to figure out the number of syllables in “Meredith”, Mary appears. She doesn’t want to be there. She hasn’t wanted to be there for a moment this season. She stands 20 feet from the drum circle, occasionally looking up to listen with her eyes like this one time in New Orleans when I was the only other person in a restaurant besides Benjamin Linus of Lost and the red-haired lady true blood, and I tried/failed to play cool and keep my eyes on my breakfast sandwich. Mary then goes on to mock Whitney’s spiritual rituals as if her own spiritual rituals don’t “maybe inflict harm as a way to buy the ugliest shit Gucci has ever produced”. Alas, Heather is lucid and ready to bond.

And the link actually they do! Er, at least if we follow the textbook’s definition, which is “to establish a relationship with someone based on shared feelings, interests, or experiences.” Hint: Shared interest may or may not keep the Bravo paychecks coming. Jen transforms into something more snake-y tittylicious, and Meredith puts on a kaftan, and everything that follows is auditory hell. I still don’t know if they lost the plot or if my easily overstimulated brain did. In an attempt to make sense of this, here’s a play-by-play:

• Meredith didn’t come on the bus because she had to drive Sethie to a doctor’s appointment, which he could have gone himself if it was another day.
• Mary didn’t come on the bus because — she refuses to give a reason. She also refuses to apologize for this or anything else.
• Lisa suggests that Meredith didn’t come on the bus because of Jen. (No shit, Sherlock.)
• Meredith deflects and tells Jen that Jennie called her a criminal. (A true deviant-protruding “pot meets kettle” situation!)
• Jen screams a lot then leaves. Meredith is disgusted.
• Everyone else bickers about Lisa and Jen’s friendship, Lisa and Meredith’s friendship, Meredith and Mary’s friendship, and Whitney and Mary’s friendship.
• Marie powders her nose at the table. That’s not an understatement.
• The girls argue over who’s the baddest of them all while Jen is still in the kitchen putting her mitts in a tub of what I can only guess is chicken salad.
• Jennie calls Meredith for responding “¯_(ツ)_/¯” to Mary’s racist bullshit. Meredith apologizes because she “isn’t in a mental state for this level of dissension.”
• Meredith completely loses any shred of divinity she had left from those bathtub antics on the day of the arrest.
• Heather gives Mary a steak in exchange for bringing Meredith back to the table.
• Jen returns with what appears to be a Spacemaker pencil box and a hot pretzel.
• Mary spends 92 minutes explaining to Whitney that she doesn’t have the mental capacity to say “we’re friends” to her, which surely takes more mental capacity than just saying “we’re friends”.
• The private investigator shit pops up and Jen redirects her anger at Jennie because Meredith says the investigator was investigating everyone, not just Jen.
• Meredith is still traumatized…oh no…anything but that…please…I’m begging…
• MY PRAYERS WERE TOO LATE; THIS IS ANOTHER MEAL OF VAGINAGATE.
• Meredith screams! Jen screams! They grind their saliva directly into each other’s gaping mouths!
• Jen tells Meredith that she leads a fraudulent life. Meredith continues to try “baby” and “honey” as condescending clapbacks to limited success. Jen says Meredith has “ten other fucking boyfriends.”

I mean, if Seth was my husband, I too would have ten fucking boyfriends, and probably eight fucking girlfriends too. So help me, God, if Andy’s jaw-dropping bombshell is that Meredith and Seth are two consenting adults in an open relationship.

Either way, see you next week for a brisk hike and Heather eating Sugar Babies in bed. In the meantime, please guess on the Breathtaking Bomb – wrong answers only. I, for one, have my fingers crossed for a big reveal that Teddy was stolen from Vanderpump Dogs and planted in Utah by Randall Emmett in a long, failed con for Lala to graduate. Housewives status and sound movies best reviewed at Sundance (still working out the details, but sounds like Occam’s razor, right?).

Mary Cashion

The author Mary Cashion