“The Real L Word” mini-cap 106: “Family Ties”

 
 

Back in sleepy LA, Whitney and Alyssa are watching Tor play with her new puppy. Alyssa holds Whitney on her lap and asks if she’s been naughty or nice. Chances are, she’s been naughty, so Santa Alyssa offers Tor a present.

Alyssa: Tor, come punch her in the face.
Tor: I’d be glad to punch her in the face.
Alyssa: Come and punch this face.
Whitney: Do it, Come punch me.
Alyssa: I don’t like all this talk. I was totally joking.

It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye. Or swallows a dog.

The next morning, Shanna holds down the fort as a stream of editors comes flowing through their LA designer event. Mikey is M.I.A., having passed out on her bed with all her clothes on. But not before attempting to speak French and seeing "a trillion great trannies" dance in her head. This is so not good for the King of LA Fashion Week. It’s going to take more than mimosas and glad-handing to fix this one.

Mikey: The fact that I drank too much, and acted like a total nimrod, is really unprofessional.

Let the nimrod who’s never missed anything because they were out drinking all night cast the first schlong. I only wish Raquel was there.

Nikki has a dear friend who’s now a rabbi in Philadelphia. The girls ask Rabbi Gary to come west and marry them. He couldn’t be more thrilled to stand under a rainbow Chuppah in Malibu, if Jill would just say yes to an estate that costs three times their budget. Nikki implies if they wait too long, the venue will get booked, or worse, the owners will raise the price. To Nikki, a "buyers’ market" means buy the entire market.

Jill doesn’t like feeling pressured and finally tells Nikki, "You are selling ice in the Arctic." Say what?

We hate it when mommies fight.

Mikey would learn how to better hold her liquor if she went out as much as Whitney does. Her father’s daughter is at yet another bar, this time with Scarlett, Tor and Alyssa. Sensing Tor has taken a step back, and seeing her lack of interest in fighting over girls like Romi and Sara, Whitney only likes Tor more. Too bad Tor has disappeared into the bathroom with Scarlett. There’s a development no one saw coming. No one, except Alyssa, who admits she might have tried to fix up Scarlett with her cousin.

Since you’re giving away stuff, Santa, can I have a pony?

At dinner with Natalie, Leslie and their mom, Rose is on her best behavior. She says contrary to popular belief, she does want Natalie in her life, and brings Natalie’s mom some flowers. Mom compliments Natalie’s hair, prompting Rose to explain to no one in particular, "I didn’t even do my hair. I was running late." It’s not always about you, but thanks for sharing.

Natalie’s mom seems enormously cool, telling the table that her own mother once tried to talk smack about Leslie.

Natalie’s mom: I broke down one day and I started crying. I said to my mom, "You know what? If you don’t have anything good to say about my kid, don’t talk about my kid." People that have a problem with it – and that was my mom – I thought, "Well, too bad. This is my kid and I love my kid."

Natalie’s mom needs to have more gay babies.

In other dramas: Whitney confronts Scarlett about her feelings for Tor. Scarlett insists she doesn’t have any romantical designs on someone who puts puppy heads in her mouth. Tor then tells Whitney as soon as she finds a job, she’s leaving. "Where you gonna go?" says a voice out of nowhere. The camera pans and settles on a complete stranger.

Who left the gate open?

A random friend of Scarlett’s has mistaken their conversation for an episode of Dr. Phil. Or dinner theater. Or a comedy show. She proceeds to give Whitney and Tor her assessment of what they should do. Sometimes it takes a random drunk girl to make you see the absurdity that is your life.

Later, after Drunkie McStranger has wandered next door to see what the neighbors have in their fridge, Tor kisses Whitney, tells her not to be a douche, and threatens her (again) with a punch in the face. Whitney’s almost in love. Who can resist a woman who calls you on your sh—while straddling you?

No one, that’s who.

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