The best thing about recapping The Osbournes instead of Road Rules, aside from the fact that it’s a gazillion times superior, managing not only to be watchable -- which would have been a mere pipe dream for Road Rules -- but actually quite well-crafted, popular, and always entertaining…the best thing is that my cat apparently can put up with the show! She hasn't puked on me once, which was a weekly event during the Six of Suck's reign, and her general disposition is much better. It's gone from openly hostile to just furtive and surly.

We open with Ozzy on his tour bus, talking into his cell phone. He repeats, "Hello, Sharon?" over and over, until he calls for Bitch Boy Tony. Tony takes the phone and promptly gets someone on the other line. He hands it back to Ozzy, who predictably gets nothing. He continues to try to talk to dead air (much like my Great Grandmother, but then again, she's 91) as Bitch Boy Tony laughs. Theme song.

The title is "…Must Come Down" and the sad lounge music takes us to a shot of the beach and then Sharon. Sharon talks about how they're in Malibu in their beach house. That's just fucking unreal. You guys realize that Malibu is about fifteen miles from their other house? How rich are you when one of your "vacation" homes is reachable from your main house by Razor scooter? Sharon talks about how they're going back to their main house but they keep this when they need quiet time. The captioner writes "recuperating," but they cut the word out of the audio, which leads me to believe they're trying to keep what we all have known for six months a secret…for at least another segment.

Jack voice-overs that Ozzy is on tour doing, as the captioner calls it, "Oz Feast," and Kelly is in New York recording her album. Meanwhile, Jack is on the beach wearing a Tenacious D shirt. He says he's on vacation, and then emerges from a car carrying a surfboard. Someone gave him the board and now he can't get enough. He walks to the water, running into Brandon from Incubus on the way, who either has a hideously ugly mole on his ear, or he's wearing some fucked-up pseudo-tribal earrings that no white boy should ever attempt to wear. Either way: yikes. Brandon and Jack chat about the surf conditions, and then walk on, like minor figures in the music industry passing in the night.