The A-List: Bitchfights in Speedos
To hell with that! Let’s get stupid!
Austin meets with the photographer who took his pictures last week. He and the stylist show him the shots and faux-vomit as they point out his horrifying inadequacies. Austin experiences shame for the first time in his life. He decides he doesn’t like it. “I didn’t come here for fashion advice,” he slurs, apparently forgetting that was exactly the reason Ryan set up the shoot in the first place. We’re thinking Austin’s like a not particularly bright cat. The kind that gets into fights with mirrors. No self perception or short-term memory. The photographer suggests that perhaps modeling isn’t for him. “But I dropped 8 pounds!” he whimpers, his massive rolls of fat threatening to engulf the room as he quivers on the verge of tears. “Maybe you could be an astronaut,” the photographer suggests. “Or a fireman!”
Derek and T.J. meet for coffee in an empty restaurant and it’s become clear by now that absolutely no one in New York City wants to be anywhere near anyone on the A-List. Because their lives are so glittering and fabulous, they immediately start talking about Austin like a couple of checkout girls on a smoke break. “Who even wants to be friends with him now? asks Derek, scribbling “I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM” on his Trapper Keeper furiously. “I’m, like, Irish Catholic and you don’t mess with my family!” shrieks T.J. succumbing to the Tourrette’s that was always right under the surface with him. Derek admires T.J. ability to completely over react to everything and invites him to Fire Island, because apparently you can’t get in without an invite from Derek. “Hopefully he’s not there.” “Gross.”
Meanwhile, Ryan returns to his perpetually empty salon to inform his employee Jenn that she will have to cut Austin’s hair that day because he simply cannot guarantee that he won’t slip into a hairdresser rage and do something drastic. Jenn pretends to check her schedule to see if she can fit him in. Ryan puts on a turban and a maribou-trimmed pink satin robe and does his best Alexis for the camera, informing us with narrowed eyes that he’s setting a trap for Austin and “He’s dumb enough to take the bait.” He narrows his eyes further to indicate the level of his deviousness. Or maybe he was smiling. It’s hard to tell with his face.
Austin arrives and drunkenly stumbles to a chair. Jenn begins fucking with him by giving him a haircut that makes him look like a Hummel figurine. Ryan sees her moment and pounces. “You are like, so totally not popular with the right people,” he informs him. Austin asks if T.J. hates him. Ryan answers mysteriously, “I will tell you that he’s not here for a reason.” After several seconds of silence, Ryan remembers that Austin doesn’t get nuance. “He’s not here because you’re here.” “Oh,” says Austin, his hair looking more like a Rankin Bass character now. Ryan decides to switch to a more maternal tactic. “Did you write those thank you notes like I told you?” he asks tenderly. “Handwrite them? There. You see? Who’s a pretty princess, now?”
Roidney and Reichen meet in an empty gym to talk about their relationship. Which, for Reichen means berating Roidney into getting work. Roidney informs us, “When me and Reichen, we did the counselor, Reichen had been so cold with me. We not very affection.” Okay, then. He assures Reichen that his upcoming career move of doing a beefcake calendar is just the ticket to get them out of their problems. “I just need to put my wings to fly,” he tells him. He’s like a gay, Brazilian Ricky Ricardo.
In other A-List news, Derek is getting his lips done because they fell off from all the sneering he does. He forces yet another of his female friends to co-star in his drama. She tells him it looks good. “Weawwy?” He asks. “I cand wade dew dwy deezzzz nooo libbs aowt on Woberdowww. I’m zoooo hebby.’
Later, Derek’s poor assistant Vulva visits at home. “Dew yew lige id?” he asks. “I need helb sedding ub duh barty.” He decides to force her into brushing up on her housewife skills by waiting on him hand and foot and shaving his legs for him. Then he gives her her mission for the night. “Toonide ad duh pardy? I wand yewe doo, lige, comblemend mee a lod. Lige, ‘Oh Dereg, yooor duh priddiesd gurl in duh room.” She wipes the spit from his chin and accepts her orders. Vulva has no dignity whatsoever. Either that or she’s embezzling from him.
Ryan and Mike meet up for their contractually obligated lunch and discuss high colonics. “There was a woman, there was something inside me, and I was totally erect!” shrieks Ryan at the conclusion of his story. Suddenly the empty restaurants are making a lot more sense.
It’s another A-List party and that means OVER A DOZEN people show up! In drag! Except for Ryan, T.J. and Roidney. Ryan explains to the camera: “T.J and I are practically cultivating vaginas as it is. God knows T.J.’s always dripping estrogen all over the salon. Do we really need to wear dresses on top of it? Please. Rodiney just wanted to take his shirt off.” Derek is appalled by this disregard for social convention. “Duh deme of du pardy isn’t lige, Jerzzey Zhooor,” he drools, secure in his high sense of decorum. Reichen arrives looking like 250 pounds of mess in a 5-lb bag. Roidney is ready to fuck him right on Derek’s couch. Derek tries to talk him out of it but between the ESL and the inflated lips, the conversation quickly lapsed into something that sounded like gay cows mooing.
Later, Reichen and Austin meet on a park bench and blahblahblzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Roidney meets with Carlos, yet another photographer. It’s all gays do, apparently. Hot tubs and photo shoots. We apparently have some catching up to do. Carlos teaches Roidney the fine art of standing still and flexing his abs. “Just a little bit more oil please,” hisses Carlos to his slave boy, who puts down the peacock feather fan he’s been using to keep Carlos cool.
Reichen’s manager calls him and we’re finding it hard to believe she’s real because she sounds like a cliche of every manager we’ve ever seen in any movie. “I love you. They loved you. They’re going in another direction. It’s because you’re so expensive.” Reichen decides to buy into her delusion. “I am being replaced in the play because someone else is cheaper,” he informs us, in a shirt that looks like it’s cutting the circulation off in his neck. He flexes his biceps and says “Fuck” to the cameras. He decides to deal with his career worries the way anyone would, by running off to the Hamptons for a few days before heading to Fire Island. He’s pissy. Roidney tries to cheer him up. “Let’s flip,” he suggests. But since there were cameramen and a crew present, they just do some acrobats on the lawn instead.
Fire Island, 4th of July weekend. Austin arrives on the island and Derek is pissed because no one checked to see if he was okay with that. “I saw him dancing like a drunk idiot,” says Derek over a shot of himself flapping his arms and hopping around like a skinny gay chicken with a spray tan.
Later, the gang all meets up at some poor friend of the producer’s house so they can all have a fight around the pool. Austin decides to display his asshole to the party. Derek squeals and leaps off her inflatable swan. “His ass is not kind of cute,” says Rodiney to Reichen. Derek and Austin begin their gay ululating until their argument reaches such a fevered pitch it can only be heard by a true Kinsey 6. “You’re a tiny dicked fucking fuckety fuck,” Derek shrieks at him. We think. “I tried to be the better person,” he tells us, which makes us wonder how he defines taking the low road.
Anyway, Reichen tries to defuse the situation, Austin looks in T.J.’s direction and she goes full on howler monkey again, and Derek and T.J. declare this lunchroom table totally OVER, grab their book bags, and march right out of there, their imaginary swinging pony tails signaling their defiance as they stomp out. “Austin is totally jealous of me,” sneers Derek. “He wants to be the big talk of the big city, but he’s not. He’s the guy who gets naked on Fire Island.”
Just the one, dear?