Traci hangs up the phone and hears something coming from the Dirty Laundry room, where the cast members film their confessionals. We hear Vanilla Ice inside, talking trash about Traci -- how she's a fake, phony gold-digging slut and that she probably even voted for Dukakis. Ice continues on his tirade, not hip to the fact that Traci's standing outside the door listening to every word and trying not to let the tears cascade down her cheekbone implants. Traci tells Trishelle that Ice crossed the line with this trash talk, and calls him a two-faced bitch. Trishelle, wise old sage that she is, deduces that Traci's upset about this. So Traci, Trishelle, and Ron are all lying in their beds while Traci tells them everything Ice was saying about her, mostly focusing on how materialistic she is and how she's got more plastic in her than a Tupperware factory. She says she hopes Ice falls off his motorcycle and never gets back up again. And if he does get up, she hopes a Mack truck runs over him while he's struggling to his feet. And if he still gets up after that, she hopes the earth shatters below him and swallows him whole where Satan can chew on his meaty flesh and spit his bones out into a bottomless pit of hellfire. Traci? Vengeful? Nahhh.
So Traci's lying in her bed, boo-fucking-hooing that Ice is a meanie butt, when Ice strolls in. "You talkin' about me?" he asks. Ron giggles perversely that the feces is about to strike the proverbial fan. Traci asserts that she is in fact talking about him. She notes that he's flushed when he walks in the room, as if he's embarrassed that she heard him. The two of them go toe-to-toe: she tells him he crossed the line, and he says the only line he ever crossed was a white powdery one. After some boring little playground brouhaha, we find out that apparently he's still pissed that she posed the question about how would he feel if she were to twist off his daughter's neck and eat her, which was sooo two episodes ago. Get over it, Ice Man. He feels that eating a cheeseburger and being forced to consider the notion of someone cannibalizing his daughter are two different things, which I partially agree with only because I've never seen his daughter. For all I know, she could be the spitting image of Mayor McCheese. If that's the case, I'll take Ice's daughter with a side order of Biggie Fries, baby! Traci assures Ice that she has no plans to eat his daughter, which has to put his mind at ease slightly because nobody wants to go through life constantly looking over his shoulder to see a ravaged Traci Bingham come running at their children with a fork and knife. Traci then argues that turkeys have families, which causes me to groan. I challenge this airhead to find me one turkey on this earth that can successfully name its mother. Until she does that, I will continue groaning like a Ron Jeremy blooper reel. Traci feels that Ice should have never brought her fiancé and his lack of common sense into all this. She then goes for the low blow: "At least I never tried heroin or killing myself." Ice sees nothing wrong with anything he's said. Traci says that she has had to struggle to get everything she has because she's a black woman. Ice finally cracks and admits that Traci's right, he's wrong, and that he's an idiot sometimes. He wishes he could take back everything he said. With a straight face, he says that her fiancé is a lucky guy, which cracked me up. Traci reminds Ice that John could kick Ice's ass, which isn't saying much since Todd Bridges pretty much made mincemeat out of him on Fox a few years ago. Hell, if they hadn't been in a restaurant, I'm pretty sure Gary Coleman would have had the goofy sonofabitch crying for his Mommy while trapped in a headlock. They call a truce, and neither has any hate or ill will toward the other as they hug. It's all so beautiful that you halfway expect Ann B. Davis to poke her head in the door to tell everyone to wash up because the goddamned meatloaf is ready.