Real Housewives of Melbourne Recap: “Murder Mystery Party” [Episode 2]
We begin this episode of “The Real Housewives of Melbourne” in a luxury car dealership. New housewife Pettifleur is in the market for a $450,000 Bentley. She figures she deserves a car that costs more than your house – you know, for all the hard work she has put in to achieving her Australian dream.
She gazes longingly at herself in the rearview mirror as she requests that patience-of-Job, car salesman, Sreko, install mirrors on the floor, “so while I’m driving, I could check out my landing strip! Because I go commando!”
Meanwhile at Lydia’s place, Figaro, looking terrified yet resigned to his fate – is in the process of being meticulously trussed and dressed by Lydia’s mother. His fancy raincoat is rejected in favor an Irish dancing ensemble. Oh, I forgot to mention that Figaro – who cowers behind household furnishings in a futile attempt to elude Lydia and her mother’s sartorial scrutiny – is a dog. Let that sink in – a dog. Don’t get me wrong, some dogs don’t even seem to mind wearing doll clothes, but poor Figgy looks about as comfortable as a cat on the verge of getting baptized.
Finally, with the dog properly outfitted in a Burberry poncho thingy, Lydia and her mum head out for gossip walk. As they rehash Janet’s party, her mum alludes to how great Janet looks, but Lyds will have none of that. She wastes no time giving a backhanded “Yeah Janet is really beautiful, for HER AGE.”
Next, we jet over to Gamble’s seaside chateau, where she is pursuing the “love of her life,” – what else? Her teacup Pomeranian, Cash. He’s a bit of a “naughty chicken” so she has invited the Aussie Cesar Milan, Brad, over to make her “baby” better behaved. One of Cash’s bad habits is that he chews the crotch out of EVERYTHING! Hmmm, guess he likes Gamble’s kibbles and bits.
Gingy-bearded Brad imparts new wisdom on Gamble. She catatonically repeats it into the camera – eyes glazed over. “If I treat him like a dog, then he will treat me like a human. If I treat him like a human he will treat me like a dog.” We ARE still talking about the Pomeranian here, right? Or has Brad just treated her to a reading of the canine-themed 50 Shades of crotch?
After Brad leaves, Gamble makes dinner for her partner, Rick and his teenage son Luke.
She serves up a healthy helping of cringe-worthy smooching with Rick before dishing out some step-motherly advice – like how important it is “to know the right people” and get all the “hottest gossip.” You know, the Golden Rule…or is that wrong?
She hatches a plan to host a murder mystery party – cue the backstabbing puns. She looks forward to getting all the girls “dressed up as witches and having a bit of fun.” Wait, does she know what a murder mystery party is?
Janet, Jackie and Pettifleur catch wind of this witchy soiree-in-the making and head out to do a little costume shopping. Jackie gushes over a particularly slutty little number and Janet calls her out, “that’s not a witch, that’s a bloody call girl.” Jackie, apparently not understanding anything ever retorts, “How do you know? what’s wrong with a call girl, they’re still hot and sexy.” Yeah, that’s what they do…
Jackie finds an even tinier corset to hold up to her chest as she humble brags about her size E boobs. She decides to go for it, since it makes her feel like a “hoochie mama” and apparently that is a good thing in Jackie’s world. Janet slinks into a slightly more demure black costume then cackles in delight. Not to be outdone, Pettifleur proceeds to lord over the sales attendant so blatantly that our other two spoiled socialites disapprove.
“I’m already unhappy with her attitude,” Janet complains. “She treats people like they’re slaves.”
As punishment, Jackie encourages Pettifleur attempt to twerk in an extremely unflattering fishnet ensemble.
Afterwards, Janet and Jackie join Chyka and Gamble for lunch, as Pettifleur heads off to coffee with Lydia. Lydia immediately informs Pettifleur that she needs to x her z. Given her penchant for going commando, leaving her fly unzipped was just the next logical step. Ironically, in her interview, she insults Gamble’s fashion sense, plastic surgery choices, body weight and intelligence. Wow! Way to endear yourself to absolutely no one. Perhaps she needs to go back to shade school 101. Jabs should be a bit more subtle (unless you’re Nene Leakes of course, discussing female anatomy).
“She’s dumb, dumb dumb,” Pettifleur continues her Gamble inspired tirade, “I can’t do dumb!”
“What do you think of me?” Lydia, that juggernaut of brainpower inquires.
“I thought you were very pretentious,” she admits. Well at least she’s consistent.
Changing the subject, Lydia gestures wildly at her face while exclaiming, “You have this very unusual look, which I love. Is it Indian?”
“No,” Pettifleur answers with a sigh, “there’s actually Swiss, Dutch, Portuguese and Sinhalese.”
Lydia cheerfully says to camera: “It’s a real mongrel of a woman!”
Is she really that oblivious to how offensive that comment was? Is it okay in Australia to go around calling people mongrels on camera and continue getting paid for it?
Meanwhile, the ladies who lunch are discussing Pettifleur’s bratty behavior and her apparent lack of Melbourne pedigree.
Janet is particularly vocal on her mystery roots: “I do not know one single person — and this is rare — that has any idea who Pettifleur is, or even that knows the name. So, OK: Who the F**K IS PETTIFLEUR?”
Later, that evening, Pettifleur invites Gina over to her home for a chat. A quick glance at the walls reveals a shopping mall masterpiece – a glamor shot of Pettifleur in her prime.
At a restaurant across town, Gamble and her boyfriend Rick are having dinner. She makes a hilarious joke about crabs – you know, THAT kind, as she nibbles on her Alaska king leg. This is all the inspiration Rick needs to ramble on about love until his speech finally culminates in a proposal. She leaps at the chance to take his last name and officially become Gamble Wolf.
After the break, we join the witches in the limo – nice to see their attire finally reflect their souls, as they examine each others black lacquered claws and discuss Gamble’s E-harmony relationship. They arrive at Gamble’s home for the murder mystery party and Gina is amused by Janet’s flirtatious convo with co-host Rick. During the repast of ghoulishly shaped gourmet vittles, the clues are read out, but no one is really paying attention…including Gamble who is dressed like Marie Antoinette for some reason. To celebrate sort of winning the game, Pettifleur busts out a new twerking routine just before busting out her Switch the Bitch book pitch. Cue rolling eyes and bewildered, dazed housewives.
Wolfpup Rick announces his engagement to Gamb-toinette and everyone raises a glass. The celebration is short lived however as Janet is concerned for that their happiness and reputations could soon be dashed. To camera, she announces that she has heard some very damaging rumors that would be devastating for the betrothed couple if they were to get out. What better way to keep them contained than announcing it on camera?
Next, Chyka, Janet and Gamble get together for lunch to squeal about how wonderful the party was. Chyka also has a few rumors burning a hole in her Berkin. She has heard that Gina is engaged to her geographically impossible partner. Aw that’s sweet – really cushions the blow of what’s to come. Now for the bombshell! Janet and Chyka tell Gamble that they have heard she was a stripper and a call girl. Gamble laughs off this first reference to her allegedly sordid past. Then Janet hits her with a sex party story – some guy named Carlos was actually there as an eye witness. A sheen is breaking out on Gamble’s upper lip – but she explains it was an innocent little pool party that happened to have a lot of hot chicks in attendance…some of them presumably skinny dipping. I want her life.
Recovering from her initial shock at being called out, Gamble turns on the women. They “need to wash their dirty brains out!”
Methinks episode three will be a raunchy romp into Gamble’s festering past. Do you think she has something to be ashamed of? Should a disreputable past matter in the face of true E-love? Sound off in the comments!
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