Welcome back, y'all! Let's do this.
Coming up this hour, Regina almost kills half of New York City with her car, LyDee seems like a bit of a Worrying Wilma until you realize she has every reason in the world to be, and Mr. Stupidhead has an aneurysm just trying to comprehend how one person could possibly use so much mousse in one sitting. I hate Regina, guys. Not as much as I hated Marsha, but close. There's a desperation there that is truly frightening.
So, Regina, what is it that you see in Domingos (aside from a never-ending supply of facial grease)? "When I met him, I hadn't had a good laugh in a really long time. He was able to bring that part of my personality out again." Plus, she was also a grade-A Fatty McButterpants, which apparently Portuguese families have no problem making fun of you for. "I started doing some pretty crazy things to get my metabolism going, and within three or four months, I had lost almost eighty pounds." Okay, that is an obscenely short amount of time for anyone to lose that kind of weight. That's just dangerous. But what really pisses me off is that after this revelation, the editors throw in this orchestral flourish that indicates (to me, at least) that now that she's a size 8, she's worthy of real love. Unfortunately, Regina seems to completely agree with that sentiment. Ugh. "After losing the weight, she gained a fiancÃ©." Shut your fucking mouth, narrator. I hate you. Regina: "Domingos came to my house, and he told me he was gonna marry me." Wait, no mention of the raging ultimatum you set? "Propose by Halloween, or I'll see ya"? Eat shit, Bridezillas. "Domingos turned out to be Regina's fantasy come to life." I didn't realize that a cross-breed of Alan Cummings and Sly Stallone with a little bit of Mr. Horse was a fantasy for anyone, but it takes all kinds, I guess.
So, Regina is refinancing her house, which...dude. For one day? Are you out of your...oh, yeah. You're crazy. Oh, man, here we go. The BZ climb-up, as I now call it. According to the narrator, Regina's gone from "a much-loved queen, to a sneering, snarling, anything-but-darling Bridezilla." God, I hate that shit. All of this was interspersed with shots of Regina bitching at other drivers, bitching at her fiancÃ©, bitching...well, just bitching, because: Regina. Here comes another clip-fest: "I need you guys out of my way." "You are not to give anything to anyone in this castle without it coming through me." "When things go wrong, I flip." "Tell him to fix this floor! I can see the cracks!" "I don't like when things go wrong." "I've put people in their place." What makes people act like her, you guys? Why is she such a desperate asshole? I'd also like to mention that I've read that she's had Lyme Disease for eight years, and has been collecting disability. Okay, does that mean that some of my tax dollars are paying for this monstrosity? Because, fuck that. Although the symptoms of the disease may explain away at least some of Regina's frenetic behavior.
Either way, it's now two days before this god-awful event, and Regina's behind the wheel, yet again. She's also on the phone, which is totally illegal in New York without using a hands-free device, and she's bitching someone out. "As you can tell, I'm calling you two days before my wedding. Do you understand what I'm telling you?! I mean, it's not like I'm the bitch from hell, 'cuz I'm not, but I'm trying to put together a, um, you know, dream wedding in a week!" Wait, you're not the bitch from hell? Had me fooled. Anyway, her phone rings again, and it's Eric, the wedding singer. All frantic, she's all, "Ha ha! You have to identify yourself when you call me because I don't who the fuck you are, goddammit!" Well, she doesn't cuss, but that's basically the gist of it. It seems that Eric has called to confess that he doesn't know a word of Spanish, even though, for some reason, Regina has hired him to sing a specific song...in Spanish. A-duh. The song he has to learn is Via Dolorosa, which is such a bizarre choice of song, because it has nothing to do with weddings or romance or anything. I guess Regina's hyper-Catholic, which would explain a lot. But, for about three minutes of show time, we see Regina and her sister, Monica, arguing over the lyrics while Regina's on the phone with Eric and driving at the same time. Um, Regina? How hard is it to tell someone to fucking Google something? Figure it out, then get a Bluetooth headset, because if ever see you on the road and you're talking on your phone, I'm going to ram into you just to blame the whole thing on you, and get some of my tax dollars back from your freeloading ass. Regina is so frantic in this scene that her voice rises to the most irritating pitch in the world, hitting the formant frequency of my brain and causing an instant headache. Bitch. But you know what? It's time to move on...