The Vicki-Meghan war, over a psychic's non-vision, wages on.

By Sean Evans
August 25, 2015 at 04:30 AM EDT

We start tonight with a venue walkthrough. The venue? Vicki Gunvalson’s backyard. The affair? Tamra Judge’s son Ryan’s wedding. “Vicki’s not charging me, right?” Tamra asks. While Ryan and his fiancée scope out a grotto, Vicki and Tamra plop on the couch to discuss the whole drama surrounding the psychic and Brooks’ (possible) cancer. Vicki still doesn’t know what Meghan Edmonds said, because she refused to let Shannon Beador finish a sentence over dinner, so Tamra tells Vicki what Shannon couldn’t. Instead of hearing Brooks is faking his cancer, Vicki assumes the charlatan of a psychic meant “Brooks has been cured.” Sigh.

“I’m not going to listen to a psychic or Meghan Edmonds—who is 30 years old, a year older than my son,” Vicki snaps. “Shame on her. It’s disgusting. She needs to shut the f— up. For her to even believe a psychic shows how immature she is.” Wait, wait, wait, Gunvalson. You trotted out a psychic to “communicate” with your dead mother and saw nothing wrong with that. So psychics are cool only when you want to use them for your own personal gain? P.S., by your own words, you’re also immature, Madam Funbus. Glad we cleared this up.

Meghan Edmonds goes to meet a man named Zane who works for NASCAR, which sounds about right. Heather and Terry Dubrow and Jim Edmonds are also here. Heather cops to knowing nothing about NASCAR beyond “cars go around and around while you drink,” though “while you drink” could be a suffix Heather adds on to any sentence. (Kind of like the “In Bed” game you play with fortune cookies.) The quartet piles into a pace car for a hot lap around the circuit. It’s not long before they’re cruising at 125mph, inches from the wall, and it looks like the Housewives and Househusbands may need to change their underpants. Back in pit lane, it’s now time to go to the suite and have a cocktail “because it’s at least 9 a.m.!” They all laugh at the fact that they’re alcoholics. Into a swanky room they file, and it’s milliseconds before a bottle of champers is opened, so everyone is happy.

Vicki sent a nasty text to Meghan, which Meghan reads to Heather. Meggers can’t understand why Vicki’s upset because “the psychic insinuated Brooks doesn’t have cancer; not me.” Actually the fraud said nothing of the kind and you said everything, Meghan. He at least had the common sense to hedge his bets and say he really wasn’t sure about anything, which would be a marvelous maneuver for every psychic. Meghan’s sticking to her ill-advised stance, that it’s weird not to get “proper medical protocol,” whatever that means. Tamra, Eddie, Shannon, and David arrive and Zane shows back up to bring them all down to pit lane again, but Heather and Terry dip out, I assume to add some unnecessary room to their new house. “We’re going to a birthday lunch,” Heather corrects me. “I’ve seen the cars go around and around. I’m good.” Fair point.

I assume there was no booze in the pits because these ladies are back to the alcohol-laden suite, tout de suite. Now Shannon tries to explain why she was a pot stirrer to Tamra and Meghan. Jim Edmonds overhears and provides eloquent thoughts on the matter: “They talking about that sh– again?” Meghan wants to know why Vicki angrily texted if Shannon never said anything. Tamra admits to outing Meghan, though for some reason this doesn’t even faze Meghan. She moves right along to talk about herself and her husband’s ex-wife, LeAnn, who recently passed away from cancer. By continuously spinning every situation to be about herself, Meghan is proving to be a natural Housewife.

Meghan can’t understand that personal experiences are precisely that: personal. Because she knows someone with cancer, her opinions on anyone with cancer must be shared. “Why wouldn’t I question Brooks?” she muses. Because you have no right to do so, Meggers? Meghan finally realizes that she’s “the asshole.” Shannon and Tamra also call themselves assholes. This is the realest moment the Real Housewives have ever shared.

Tamra goes back to a realty office to start getting her real estate license back, and we hear this office found Ryan a new house. They need a check for many thousands of dollars, and Tamra’s going to cut that for him but not tell Eddie because “this is need to know.” I can’t wait until Eddie finds out. Shannon and her kids are painting things, which is a good opportunity for Shannon to remind her small daughters that “I’m fun.” It’s a better opportunity for her kids to retort “not really.” David comes in and drones on about his lack of artistic ability, but in that flat delivery, it all sounds scary and creepy. Has anyone ever poured water on David to make sure he’s not a humanoid robot?

NEXT: Meghan and Vicki have a showdown in Heather’s new home!

Vicki and Brooks go to San Diego for a birthday dinner boat cruise for Vicki’s birthday. “We can eat at restaurants all the time on land,” Brooks says, adding, “figured we’d try this!” Excellent logic, guy. Vicki’s not going to give Meggers’ rumor “life” she tells us, though by virtue of continuing to discuss it on camera, that’s exactly what you’re doing, ma’am. Brooks asks the waiter to serenade Vicki, but the waiter smartly turns it around and suggests Brooks take that honor. Before Brooks can belt out a note, Vicki tells this poor stranger all about how her mom died and how this is her first birthday alone. This poor man was just asked to bring you a plate of food, Vicki. He’s not your therapist. Hush up. Vicki brings up Meghan again and I thought we weren’t going to discuss this?

Speaking of dear Meggers, she’s traipsing around some fancy neighborhoods because Jim Edmonds wants to move again. The list price for some manse they see is 6 million. Meghan has no reaction to that number, but does giggle when she finds out that the house is “older than me!”

Shannon and David and the kids go out to dinner for her birthday. Since David was entrenched in his affair (literally) on her last birthday, Ole Lemon Bowl Beador has some expectations this year. “They’re not high,” she says and I assume this means “David, please don’t eff anyone else.” Prepare to be let down from the get-go, Shan. David’s selected a sports bar for dinner. Seriously, dude? On a woman’s birthday, you take her where you think SHE would like to go. Perturbed, she demands faster service, gets her triple vodka and is marginally happier.

David apologizes for his poor venue choice, which sets Shannon off about David making himself a martyr. One of the kids shouts, “I feel some tension between you guys.” Perceptive child. “You’re not happy, mom. You’re teary eyed.” Shannon lies to her kids faces, before telling us she doesn’t want them to endure stress. Then get a divorce, Shannon. She picks everything apart, from David to her short ribs entree, and reveals David told her after they had sex last year, he met up with his mistress. Damn, David. Did you just come right out and offer up that tidbit? She thought this year would be better but one look at Shannon and her sad face, blowing out her candles on her cake while David and his stone face looks on, tells us it’s not.

Terry Dubrow admits to his wife that he had genital crabs once while ordering a crab cocktail at dinner. …And that’s this week’s interstitial. OH NOW WE ARE BACK AT HEATHER’S PORTE COCHERE. The other wives haven’t seen this monstrosity since the hoedown, so now that the Dubrows are halfway through the build, Heather thinks it’ll be fun to throw her opulence in her poor friends’ faces by having a luncheon here! Yay! She brings her favorite servers to ply champers upon people entering this half-done house upon a weird black carpet laid down in between scaffolding, ladders, and exposed sheet rock. Everyone files in, including Lizzie From Last Season! Heather leads a tour, describing all her ridiculous rooms, including two toilet rooms, because the Dubrows “don’t poop in the same toilet.” That’s for the commoners. And here is where the towel warming drawers will be, and this is the luggage room and this is my closet the size of Texas. Which room will house their egos? Ah, right. None are large enough.

At the lunch table, set up in some dusty annex, Heather forces everyone to form a clink chain around the table. The women oblige and this is the longest I’ve seen these women hold a drink without consuming any of it. Out comes the fact that Tamra gave Ryan money without telling Eddie, prompting Vicki to climb back atop her high horse to inform Tamra that it’s mandatory to tell one’s husband about finance things. Now Meggers talks to ShanShan about cancer docs for LeAnn, while Vicki stares daggers from across the table. Meghan addresses it and Vicki raises both hands to the sky and thanks Jesus for “Brooks being cured. If the psychic saw no cancer, that’s what it means.” Then she wags a finger in Meggers direction threatens to “take you down.” (Down where? Down to the porte cochere? Down to a wine cellar? I imagine there’s a bowling alley in the basement…)

Vicki uses this opportunity to bring her dead mother into this because she’s a horrible, opportunistic person who drags out deceased relatives when it suits her. There’s enough shouting that I debate hitting the mute button during a long back and forth of “DO YOU?!”s, but decide against it. The table jumps in about Brooks’ doctors and now we’re playing an annoying game of who said what, with a heap of finger pointing. The spat reaches its apex when Meghan dredges out Vicki’s commentary on her step-daughter Hayley, spiking Vicki’s ire. “You need to go away,” Ole Whoop It Up screams. “You’re a little girl. You need to go away and get a big girl job. You’re 30. You have not been through life like we have.” Meghan says that LeAnn’s cancer counts; Vicki counters that it does not. Meghan cries. “You’re upset at me for being concerned?” Meghan asks, pretending to be surprised. “Shut up,” Vicki barks, and you just KNOW Meggers is really getting under Fun Bus’ skin. Meghan gets the final shot of the episode: “You’re just an old woman who’s pissed off and bitter at the world, so you shut up.” Point, Meggers. Congrats, Heather! Your first lunch party! Your first fight! First tears! Consider your unfinished house warmed!

Are you Team Meghan or Team Vicki? Do you think Brooks has cancer? Do you and your significant other have separate toilets?