Showtime with Apollo I can actually feel Peter seething from an understocked greenroom somewhere about not being the husband chosen for a solo spot. Andy says it’s good to see Apollo and Phaedra together. IS IT, ANDY? Does he think there’s anyone in the world that is rooting for these two to work? Andy asks about rumors that have been floating around and Apollo says “We’ve never been separated, but marriage takes its toll,” and as much as I never want to help this man, I want so badly to send him a link to "Conjunction Junction." They’re extremely awkward together and Phaedra keeps scolding Apollo under her breath. Andy asks if her being less busy has improved their sex life because Andy is a total perv. Phaedra once again reiterates that she has jobsssss: “He does what he wants to do and I do what I need to do to keep our family intact.” Loud and clear, Phaedra. Everyone is 100% on board with you trimming the felonious fat off of your otherwise precious family.
And then, with no real prompting, Apollo turns his grammarless wrath on Kenya. When she won’t look at him he gives her a gruff, “I’m talking to you,” and it all feels distinctly violent and uncomfortable. He tells Kenya, “You best hope nothing happens to me because you might not have a job. I’m your storyline. I sustain your career…I built you, so stop playing games.” Yikes. Kenya once again points out a *character flaw*, and this time she’s right…something is up with this dude and control. But other than that she mostly refuses to comment on all of the comments she’s already made on talk shows about him going to jail, cheating on his wife, etc. Luckily, Andy Cohen is there to move things right along: “From swimming in caves to ‘LOL, thanks babes,’ everyone has an opinion on this triangle.” Oh Andy, in the midst of this darkness, how do you still find the strength to say such toolish things?
Phaedra is ready -- she’s been carbo-loading on fettuccine alfredo to come up on Kenya for days. She’s got a plastic baggie of almonds stuck between the couch cushions in case she gets faint and a packet of Goo wedged in her cleavage for endurance. She starts in strong with, “You’re a sneaky, trifling slut.” A less informed recap-reader might be concerned that Phaedra can’t maintain this kind of speed and aggression...but not you. You know lawyer-Phaedra; you know mother-hen-Phaedra; you know this is not southern-belle-Phaedra. Kenya comes back with her patented phone-pull to read a message that she claims Apollo sent her days ago to apologize, but turns it back around with her second most utilized play: never reading it. Apollo comes off the bench to say, “Am I a criminal? I have a criminal past.” (Side note:If anyone knows of a helpful children’s video about how to successfully use rhetorical questions, please paste in the comments and I’ll see what I can do about getting all of these resources to Apollo.) And then comes the only thing any of you came here to talk about: Phaedra’s sperm-centric takedown of Kenya.
“What you need to know is that he needed $10 to get him a medium-size pizza, so he ejactulated into a cup, so you could have a kid.”
I’m not really sure what to say about the Phaedra read, except that it had me feeling like I could start saying “chile” at the end of every sentence simply from having heard it, even though everything else in my life would suggest I should never, EVER do that. But it also made me feel dirty. Phaedra did not come to play, be played with, or dis-play anything but a stone cold polar stratospheric cloud of shade on Kenya tonight. She says a lot of things, specifically about sperm banks that if strictly intended for Kenya, are deployed like the women-fight-with-words bombs Kenya is so fond of pushing; but when taken outside of the confines of her one powder-blue couch cushion, would be considered close-minded and awful. Phaedra’s never-ending “you can’t get a man" argument is as tired as me during a Watch What Happens Live One-on-One, but given that she’s waited all season to unleash the carefully crafted attack she detonated tonight, I think Jackée said it better than I ever could (what’s new?):
In the silence of Phaedra’s impressively evil takedown, Apollo tries to get in on the action and he can’t even get five words in without tripping all over himself. “You should get your toe—your toenails done. ‘Cause they’re dirty.” It is my greatest fear that Ayden got all of Phaedra’s verbal genes, and Mr. President will be left with only Apollo’s. I do not know how science works.
NEXT: Husbands need attention too...