Here's where stuff got boring.
"Is my wardrobe badass enough for shooting?" wondered Joyce as she walked up to the gun range with her husband. Folks, I can't. Let's keep it moving.
On the subject of home invasions, Yolanda told a grisly story of an armed man bursting into her bedroom when she was naked and breastfeeding baby Gigi. Naturally, because you don't mess with Yolanda, and she will not hesitate to choke the life out of you, she ran him off. "I will make mashed potatoes out of you if you come close to my kids," she said. MVP! MVP!
Kyle had her personal chef allow her to stand next to her so it looked like they both made meatballs for Shabbat dinner. Apparently she and Mauricio had sex later because that's part of the deal of converting. And don't be surprised if in a few years you read a Radar headline that Taylor Armstrong has converted to Judaism because your kid can really clean up at a bat mitzvah if you throw an outrageously misguided, over-the-top party.
Finally, a self-defense class. Lisa wore her bounciest candy pink sports bra that really put a spring in her step. Yolanda should never be trusted with a safe word. Kim was a triumphant action star in the movie playing inside her head. Carlton pretended the instructor's mitts were Kyle's face. Brandi broke on her hand on the poor man's head. Afterwards Brandi, Lisa, and Kyle, an unlikely trio if there ever was one, went for a drink. While Kyle and Lisa fussed over who was busier, Brandi's hand continued to swell under a pack of ice. Then Lisa wouldn't let it drop that her friend needed to see a doctor. "I'm fine right now," said Brandi. "And fine doesn't work with me," countered Lisa, whose heart was in the right place but really was pushing it too hard. Good grief you three, would you just order some food and talk smack on your old friend Adrienne.
In conclusion: Please tell me someone at Bravo pitched a Spritely Seniors show today.