Hey TrashCrabs! Whatchya doin? How’s it goin? Cool awesome yeah great. Listen, do you mind if we make this a quick one? Ya know, just a wham bam thank you mam? I’m sort of in a rush. Not that I’d like to be. I’m slammed at work this week (seriously, I’m boarding my sweet little furbabies because I’m a terrible mom with no time on her hands) and much as I’d like to let some steam off I only have, like, five minutes to write this recap. So I’m going to make like Shep Rose, grab you by the wrist, and force you onto the porch for some nonconsensual action. Let’s get to it, sugartits.
Speaking of sexy sexual sex times, this episode was filled with a whole lot of zaddies as the ladies wrapped up their contentious death march through paradise. After Karen’s ridiculous and malicious tirade in the hotel room, we’re ready to climb on another “fucking boat” (not a boat for fucking, though if Charrisse had it her way…). This little sunset cruise aboard the S.S. Sensuality is courtesy of Charrisse, who considers it her answer to Karen’s terrible approach to hostessing. Charrisse, or the producers, have loaded the yacht with dozens of steamy young stallions that obviously said yes to some free drinks and camera time, so we’re in for a real treat.
Immediately after setting sail, Charrisse drags Robyn over to a dude that has shaved his legs just so he can creepily prompt strange old women to run their fingers up and down his calf muscles. Also, Charrisse has to drag Robyn over since this gentleman refuses to get out of his seat. What a doll! Unsurprisingly, Robyn gives this guy a hard pass and decides to move on in pursuit of someone besides Juan to have sex with (spoiler alert: this will never happen). Across the bar, Ashley is asking a big angry haystack named Karen why she decided to exclude half of the crowd on her earlier Three Girls One Cup excursion. Karen just shakes her dusty ass wig at Ashley in a form of dismissal, but she can’t escape Gizelle, who is ready to force her against Charrisse in devious revenge for what Karen did that morning (force Gizelle against Monique). Karen and Charrisse stand on the deck, squinting at each other in the orange blaze of sunlight, screaming about how much richer and better at going to Bermuda they are as opposed to the other.
Back at Charrisse’s suite, she, Robyn, Gizelle, and Ashley are partaking in my favorite pastime (DRUNK EATING MMMOMNOMARRFFFNOM) when Charrisse drops the bomb that Karen bought her Potomac house on foreclosure. Everyone salivates with schadenfreudy delight as they imagine the Grand Dame of 20854 filling her crappy house of broken dreams and crippling debt with balsa wood cabinets and shitty box televisions. Meanwhile, poor Monique has been sidled with Karen, who won’t shut up about how awful everyone is and says some stuff I can’t remember because I was drinking my work woes away. Because unlike Karen, I work for a living.
The next day, the girls head to a cricket match because god damn if this trip isn’t filled with excluUuUuUusive seats at obscure sporting events. And yet again, production has flocked them with some FOINE (is that racist of me to say?) ass dudes to uncomfortably flirt with. As is her wont, Ashley tries to be helpful but fails miserably when she unsuccessfully attempts to throw a willing and able cricket player at Gizelle. Gizelle is mortified, but realizes through this embarrassing altercation that it’s actually time to break up with Kevin. Flirting with men young enough to be your son just doesn’t have the same kick to it when you’ve got a ball and chain waiting at home who’s nice to you, understands your age bracket, is wonderful to your mother, cooks you elaborate meals, and showers you with gifts. Yeah, fuck that! Robyn’s with me here, too: she’s left this outing with the firm conviction to stick with “what’s at home.” Guess what, it ain’t Kevin (it’s more like Harry and Marv), but it’s easy, so there.
After the cricket match, Karen decides to apologize to Charrisse because she
has a graveyard of skeletons hiding in her closet wants to “set a good example for the rest of the girls.” She explains to Charrisse that she’s overly sensitive because she’s going through a lot right now, but what “a lot” of it is remains unclear. She then hosts a final “pajama party” and everyone laughs and drinks and Ashley wears one of her signature not-technically-clothing ensembles and Gizelle says it’s the reason for Michael’s “dried up pancake penis.” Oooh, Gizelle! You on fire, girl.
Later, Ashley and Monique sit down for a nice lunch of chicken wings (that’ll look great on camera! said a PA who was promptly fired), where Monique tells Ashley that she quit her rap career because she was pressured into sex if she wanted to get ahead (a head, ha). That’s all terrible and it helps me understand why Monique initially says she left the business to marry a big refrigerator named Chris. Ashley asks Monique to bust out another one for old times’ sake, and Monique does, and it’s stupid. And the Bermuda trip is over. Hurray!
Back at home, Robyn pays her therapist a visit to inform her that she failed the dating assignment. Robyn’s pretend revelation is that trying to date around (without really trying) made her realize that she just wants Juan, or whatever, she just wants to sit on the couch for 15 minutes a day and hate her stagnant, overworked life because sharing your thoughts and aspirations with men genuinely interested in you is hard, meh. The therapist takes a swig of vodka and is like fuck it, this is a losing game. Where’s my check, Bravo.
Out in Alexandria, Ashley arrives at Michael’s office for a staff meeting, but right after she gets there he sternly asks the rest of the staff to leave and close the door. Ooh, they’re totally gunna bang! you would say of a newlywed, ostensibly attracted married couple. But nope, Michael just sits across his desk from her and authoritatively informs her that to fix their marriage, he’s giving her a demotion. She’ll no longer be the manager and owner of Oz, but rather just an owner. Look, I know Ashley was shit at this job, but come ON dude. Tearing her out of the restaurant and throwing her back in your sterile apartment to be barefoot and pregnant is not the most compassionate move in the world. If you want her to start cranking out babies for ya, then maybe don’t tear apart her self confidence and then expect her to want to jump at the chance to reproduce with you.
Later, Charrisse is ready for her big Champagne Room Reveal Party (just typing this out makes me want to shoot myself in the elbow), and seems to be the second lady in two episodes to pimp one out for Asa Soltan muumuus. Charrisse reveals her stupid drunk parlor, which is really just a big wine cabinet on one wall, an Ikea shelving unit with 18 champagne glasses on another, and a few shitty Tony Montana coke couches in the center. Charrisse steps into the room and twirls with delight, musing that she’s actually “stepping into her new life” or whatever. I’m glad that having a designated room to get shitfaced in has reinvigorated her with a new sense of self-worth. And here I am slumming it in my bathroom with a bottle of merlot and Netflix on the toilet, JEEZE.
Before Karen arrives, Gizelle informs the group that Karen has already installed herself in her new home – moving with a shady expediency that seems to tell a very suspicious story. In fact, Ray had already packed them up and left in the dead of night by the time Karen returned from Bermuda. Yikes, man.
When Karen arrives, or at least I think it’s Karen but it also might be a wet poodle that can magically talk!, she fesses up to the fact that yes, she’s now living in Great Falls, but she’s only in this house “for a test drive,” which makes sense when you consider the fact that she actually bought it instead of renting. If Karen’s not happy, she’ll simply BUILD herself another house BACK IN POTOMAC. Wow, what a sound, logical plan. What a much better idea than say, staying in your house in the same state as you build that pile of bricks you so badly want in the town in which you were already living. Alright, Karen! What a financial guru you must be. A demon of real estate. A maven at good life decisions.
Obviously, no one is buying this bullshit story, and Ashley kicks off the fight by sheepishly reminding Karen that she’s no longer the Grand Dame of Potomac. Karen, who already looks like she got struck by lightning, acts like she got struck by lightning, sits up straight as an arrow, and says that she’ll defer to the people  who “bestowed” that title on her and not some “idiot sitting across from me on a couch.” And that’s where our episode ends, with a stupid, non-titillating “TO BE CONTINUED” chyron twinkling at the bottom.
Next week: Oh my god, so much fucking cultural appropriation. Monique actually wears a Native American head dress. And apparently because the party is “Indian” themed. What the everloving shit. I guess that’s why the producers decided to pull the plug and call this puppy the finale.
So what did you think, TrashCrabs? I was more entertained by the elixir in my glass than this boring parade of nothingness, but I will say that watching Karen get her comeuppance is kind of delicious. Why did she move so fast, so quietly? Sound off in the comments!
Also, sorry for the no screencaps thing. Here’s an insider secret: taking and installing them is probably a third of the five-hour process involved with writing these. But I will bust out this old chestnut as compensation:
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