Tight close-up on Anna. She faces the camera and asks us if we know what's really important. If we did, would we be wasting a half-hour each week watching this show? We're seeking wisdom, Anna. Lay it on us, baby. Well, Anna says it "isn't money or what money can buy. It's friendship." Then a man says "cut!" and Anna hollers for Howard to bring her a fucking soda. We get a shot of a baleful, whipped-looking Howard standing by the kitchen sink. Good God, what an awful bit.
Anna, Anna, glamorous Anna, Anna Nicole! She's so whatever.
Howard, that loathsome yutz lawyer, looks somewhere to the right of the camera and says that when he first met Anna, he and his two former law partners went out and had an eating contest. Then Anna looks directly into the camera and says she and Howard had an eating contest when they first met, and she won. Ooh, what surprising and interesting news. She adds, "Yay!" Howard gets the last word in by saying, "We've been talking rematch ever since."
Howard, Kim, and Anna discuss the rules of the E!-ting Match 2002 while taking up space at a mall café. Anna, in a blue track jacket, black track pants, honking bobo Chanel sunglasses, pigtails, and an eerie, desperate Marilyn Monroe top, starts: The loser gets their face painted, hair put up, and has to go roller skating. Then Daniel comes up, and Anna tells him what happens to the loser. Daniel, in yet another Nirvana shirt (he must be doing this on purpose -- what kid only wears Nirvana shirts? What, no Rye Coalition shirts? Or even a Slint shirt? Come on) says he doesn't want any part of "that make-up stuff." Anna tells him he'd better win, then. Wow, needless competition. How much fun is this going to be?
A shot of the black Mercedes follows; then the group arrives at Mazzarino's, a restaurant that I'm sure would not willingly seek out this kind of notoriety. But hey, when you're in L.A., you get it all the time, right? You set up an honest business, and someone famous ODs on the sidewalk, or gets a tattoo there, or shoots his wife as they wait outside in the car, or eats one of your hot dogs after yoga class, or holds up your dry cleaning operation, and you have to hear about it for the duration. Maybe you'd put up a little sign to commemorate the event. Or maybe you'd just smile tightly and say, "Yes, this is the 'pig snot' Anna Nicole gorged on for E!." Anyway, Anna gets out of the car and beats her chest (drink!) and says, "Feeding, feeding, feeding...I mean, fighting machine! Arrgh!"
Howard says Anna is competitive. I say, duh. And, why? She's the biggest blonde on the planet, her title is safe. She won. The end. Please, let it end.