The episode opened with Kim prattling away into the phone, slurring that she was never late like this and she was just 15 minutes away from the airport and she looked a fright with no makeup on and this whole mess reminded her of that one day on the Disney lot. The camera swung between a speeding anonymous town car and a waiting Adrienne sternly stirring her Bloody Mary. Paul was not amused; Johnnie the bodyguard most definitely was.
“Oh my gosh, look who’s here!” sang Kim as she weevil wobbled onto the private plane. She is an SNL character sprung to life: a little bit of Grey Gardens, a bit of Three’s Company‘s Chrissy, and a lot of everyone’s sad but good-natured aunt who drinks too much at family functions. Paul wanted to immediately start her on an IV of water but our gal had excuses for her lateness to make up on the spot. See, the power went out. On the whole block! Luckily she’d already done her hair but suddenly there were no lights (the sun went out too!) so she couldn’t get dressed or do her makeup. She was forced to reach out to neighbor, someone on the other block, a la Celestia. Hi there, I’m in my jammies and don’t yet have my face on and the Maloofs are waiting for me. Would this be a good time to drop by and introduce myself?
It was hard to tell if Kim’s yammering was actually a welcome distraction for Adrienne’s frayed nerves. The Queen was hurting, torn up over whether or not to move her beloved Kings. Kim was there for her, ready to empathize over the painful nature of change. “I don’t like new restaurants, new people, I just like my routine,” she said. Paul spoke for America when he turned to her and demanded “What are you talking about?” Adrienne stared forlornly out the window of the limo, a tear breaking through the crust of her mascara at the sight of a sign begging to keep the Kings in Sacramento. Paul, motioning for Johnnie to stick an Hermes scarf in Kim’s mouth, squeezed his wife’s ankle tenderly. Adrieenne smiled softly at him and resisted the urge to bark at him to stop creasing her pant leg. Does this sun roof open? Kim wants to sing Sacramento a song.
Back in Beverly Hills, Kyle was feverishly trying to pull together her charity event to raise money for kids with cancer. Go get ’em, girl. Her trusted ladysitter Justin—Justin, did you approve this title?—waved off her anxiety about calling rich friends to contribute silent auction prizes. Lisa coughed up a dinner for four at Villa Blanca. One person who will not be bidding on said item is Taylor because a) dinner? and b) she hates Lisa.
In light of Russell’s death and Taylor’s subsequent revelations about their dark relationship, the scene of her visiting with Kyle was especially troubling. Russell had gotten wind of a gossip item about their floundering marriage. Who was the fink source that hissed about her trouble at home? “It says I’m barely eating,” said Taylor, clearly furious but still leading with that breezy smile. Kyle paused, looked at the woman’s pipe cleaner legs, and asked “Are you hungry?” Taylor pretended to be amused. “Everybody in my life is under a confidentiality agreement,” she said in the world’s most depressingly claustrophobic statement. So who is spilling to the press? Kyle would never rat on her. It’s not Camille’s style to gossip. Adrienne wouldn’t stoop so low. And Kim never talks to anybody. (Ouch!) That leaves God Damnderpump.
NEXT: Brandi should have worn a Croc to the party