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Mr. Sobell: C | 506 USERS: C+
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It's My Party, And I'll Cry If I Want To

Let's go from self-pity to mutual loathing and check in on Team Discord. Matt got the bright idea to maybe go hire a go-go dancer for their tent, so Michael is placing the call to one of the one of the many businesses that populate L.A.'s wholesale go-go dancing district. "This is a Bacardi Limón party," Michael explains to his would-be contractor on the other end of the phone line. "And we want it to be fun and sexy, but we want it to be kind of classy in a way." So wear some glasses, sweetheart. And a push-up bra. Listening in on this exchange is Carisa, who wants to make sure that Michael won't instruct the go-go dancers to look like "working girls." Considering this is Michael, I'd say the greater risk is that he instructs them to end up looking like Edith Wharton. At any rate, Michael is none-too-pleased with this live-and-in-person version of NSA wire-tapping; he cuts off his conversation with the go-go dancer mid-instruction -- "We want someone who looks whorish, but is rather picky about it," basically -- to order Carisa to the hinterlands, dramatic finger gestures and all. "Matt told me to come over here and make sure you weren't putting gold and gaudy stuff on them," she fibs. Michael fumes about how Carisa was making noises and faces during his conversation, causing him to get all flustered in front of the go-go dancer. This obviously will not stand: "I think when it comes to teamwork, she's kind of a bitch." Bravo's bleep monkey who has been working overtime to erase all traces of "fuck" and "shit" and, in a few moments, "dick" and "asshole," apparently isn't the least bit bothered by free and easy use of the word "bitch"; perhaps I'm the only person in world vaguely bothered by this. Anyhow, Michael and Carisa recreate all of their earlier arguments about who's a team player and who isn't for the benefit of any of you who nodded off earlier in this episode. (Michael: "She's a fucking idiot." Carisa: "What a dick.") Oh, you two kids -- your squabbles never get old. Wait, did I say "never?" Excuse me, my English, she is none too good -- I meant "has already gotten hours ago."

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