Last night was part two of the Game Night Massacre, when two sister witches attacked a crippled woman while three addled zombies looked on. It was all very exciting.

Yes there we were where we left off last week, Bravo playing its best sinister music, a sleek Drive-esque shot of Los Angeles segueing us into the den of horrors that Dana calls a "home." It's really a foreclosed-on house that Dana is squatting in, not her house, the original owners packed up their wagon and left the Los Angeles dustbowl long ago, Dana just found it during an open house and... dispatched... the real estate agent and now she is claiming it as hers, throwing the sheets off the furniture and hosting a game night. A terrible fight broke out last week and this episode began in medias res, with Kyle and Kim slumped on one couch and Brandi hobbled in a chair, shrieking at each other. "Fuck off!" "No you fuck off!" "You're jerks!" "I saw your son's penis and you did nothing about it!!" Yeah, that was Kyle still harping on the fact that one of Brandi's little ones pulled out his little one at the Maloof's pool bash and peed in the grass. Kyle is obsessed with the rudeness of it even though no one else really seems to care, so she brought it up last night and this sent Brandi into a spluttery rage. "My children! Never my children! No! Nooooo!" Kyle shot back that Brandi had attacked her sister, called her out for ingesting strange smokes and potions in Dana's dark, echoing bathroom. Brandi correctly pointed out that Kyle was talking about a child and Kyle said "I wasn't blaming the child! I was blaming you!" and everyone else rolled their eyes and said "Ohhhhh brother." Well, Kim didn't say that, but she did roll her eyes because she was having another one of her "episodes," hopped up on some sort of peculiar goofballs and barely present in the room.

Brandi of course had picked up on this, all the girls had but Brandi was the only one to say anything out loud about it, and she then shrieked at Kyle "Well your sister was doing crystal meth in the bathroom!" and everyone was like "Yiiiiiiiikes." Kim's head popped off of her body and rolled around the room, wooden jaw clacking and clacking, while Kyle turned into a black raven (she's a warg!) and cawed and swooped, talons out, at Brandi. Kim eventually put her head back on her body and ran, in full berserker mode, right toward Brandi, calling her a "slut pig," ready to strike and scratch at Brandi's oiled-up face, but then there was a great bellow and a flash and flurry of blonde and there was Taylor, poor fragile Taylor, finding a moment of strength and throwing herself between the two and saying "No! Enough!! No! There will be no hitting! No one will touch each other! No one will touch each other. No one will touch each other..." She said it again and again, this increasingly sad little phrase, all her features a'tremble, reciting it like a prayer, a benediction against evil. There will be no touching here. Not tonight. Not on Game Night. No.

The sisters heaved and grunted, stamping their feet and shaking their manes, but they did finally calm down. Though she'd soiled herself in the plush chair, Brandi too was calmer. "Bring me my crutches," she cried, so Dana went to go look for her crutches, but of course Kim had hid them, because nothing Kim has done has made sense for a long long time. She and Kyle got themselves together, standing in the foyer waiting for Brandi to leave. Finally Dana found them and Bradi hobbled off to her car. "Crazy night!" Dana barked, her short-shorts riding up her thighs, feet wobbling in her Fendi heels. "But seriously guys, seriously. I love Kim. I do. Just the way she is, I love Kim," she rasped, though she'd only just met Kim that night. She turned to Kyle and said "I mean, that's what it's always been about, we're forever, babe, we're forever." Kyle said "What's what always been about what? Who's forever?" And Dana, not picking up on Kyle's mocking confusion, said "Us, you know, you're sisters, we're forever." It went from you to we in the weird blink of an eye and everyone shook their heads and thought Poor Dana. She's trying so hard.

And oh god Dana was trying so hard! Dana! Cool it. Slow your roll, seriously. I would almost say it's embarrassing except I don't know that Dana gets embarrassed. I don't think she gets embarrassed when she's inventing whole histories of friendships with people she's just met, I don't think she gets embarrassed when she looks in the mirror and sees herself all sausaged into strange frilly nighttime shorts, and I don't think she gets embarrassed when she lets out a loud honking fart while bending over to clean up realtor's blood and it's the only sound in the otherwise eerily quiet mansion. Dana is way past embarrassment at this point. She gave up all of those feelings to that wizard on that mountain years ago. "If you want the amulet, you'll have to give me something else in return," the wizard had croaked. And Dana nodded, staring at the bright ruby in his hands and knowing she must possess it. That was hundreds of years ago, and now here she is, this vagabond immortal, standing in a house in Los Angeles and deciding that here was the life she'd been pointing at all along. And she was not going to let it go. "Let's go on a vacation! A real feel-good, positive vacation," she said to the remaining girls. They all nodded and made noises, none of them saying yes, and it was enough for Dana. She clapped her hands, said "OK!", undoing the spell and thus letting the girls leave the house. When they stumbled outside they realized they had no idea how long they'd been in there. In truth what had felt like hours had been days and days. They could hear police sirens getting closer from far off. They turned to say something to Dana but she was gone, the door to the mansion swaying in the wind, the house empty. With a shudder, they got into their limos and rode off toward home.

The rest of the episode was mostly spent doing damage control. While Kyle and Kim had banded together at the Game Night standoff, there were still cracks in their relationship, and if Kyle was honest with herself, which it doesn't seem like she really ever is, the things Brandi had yelled about Kim's strange behavior had struck some deep chord within her. Kim was pixelating into pieces, blowing away bit by bit like dried leaves right in front of Kyle. But ah! Ha! Nope. Not for Kyle to think about, no no. She shook her horse hair and let that worry rattle out of her and it was time to go to Palm Desert. The House in the Desert is, if you remember, the house where Momma Richards had convalesced and later died. It's a haunted but cherished place, one that Kim accused Kyle of stealing from her last season. We got the boring-ish backstory on that last night: the three Richards siblings all co-owned the house, Kyle bought the other two out, then Kim tried to buy back in and Kyle wouldn't let her. Kyle said to us "The house is still just as much Kim's as it is mine." Uh, except you own it outright and wouldn't let Kim buy back in when she asked. Maybe that was for her own good, maybe Kyle (and Mauricio, we must assume) knew that Kim couldn't afford to do that, or maybe Kyle just likes having that one more thing to lord over her sister, likes that Kim needs to ask her permission for things. Kyle craves control like Chris Christie craves reubens. It's all she ever thinks of, brushing her pretty dark hair in the mirror, thinking of all the ways she can make her sister writhe and beg.

In the van on the way to the desert, the palm trees giving way to scrub and cactus, Kim regaled the girls (it was a combination of Kyle and Kim's daughters who were going on the trip) with a story about how she'd bought what she thought was breath spray that turned out to be, well, air freshener. "I used it for a week!" And oh god. Oh god Kim. No. There are some stories... I just... "I was spraying air freshener into my mouth for a week before I realized it was poison. I didn't quite get why anyone would want their mouth to smell like a pine tree, but whatever!" Oh Kim, no. Oh god. What else is going on in that house, huh? What else? WD-40 used for cooking spray. Caulk as frosting. Rainwater with dead beetles floating in it as salsa. Oh Kim. Poor Kim. That was essentially Kyle's reaction, a quick flash of embarrassment and revulsion, saying something like "Kim, no...", before collecting herself and trying to laugh it off the way Kim was. Zany old crinkly crab Kim, cackle-chuckling to herself in a van in the desert, the breath strips she thought were contact lenses burning her eyes. A sad thing. A funny thing, yes. But mostly a sad thing.

When they got to the desert house there was much cooing and cawing, everyone was very happy to be there, though there was always that sense of Momma there, how sad it was to have her gone. We've a strange relationship with ghosts, don't we, we people. Sometimes a bit haunted is a good feeling. Like this house out in the glaring desert, this troubled house, this particular house, this place where Kim once burrowed. Now it's full of life again, with all the girls clattering around, the littlest one cozying up in her grandmother's favorite blanket (they kept the blanket — did they keep everything? Is there still an indent on the sofa where she sat until she was gone?), the older girls making food in the kitchen. Mauricio arrived at the house, looking fit and bright in a checkered button up, all of his ladies greeting him with kisses while Kim stood in the back, black marble eyes glinting in the fluorescent light. "Look at you, Mauricio..." she croaked, the only way she could acknowledge her jealousy without turning into ooze and spreading across the floor. "Look at you." Poor Kim.

Damage control-wise, Kyle and Kim went to lunch just the two of them, some kind of grill, it is as I've said before always a grill, and they sat there and drank their iced drinks and Kyle tried to be breezy and relaxed for as long as she could, she and Kim were OK, see. She and Kim are fine. She'd had a meeting earlier with the Maloof and Lisa to give them a recap of Game Night — in which, of course, she'd completely absolved herself of blame, because this is what Kyle does — and at one point she'd said "I mean, what even is crystal meth? What is it? Is it what you run a hybrid car off of?" Kyle. Kyle? Kyle. Denial is a river in Kyle, long and crocodile-filled. Kyle. Come on. The Maloof and Lisa cleared their throats at that one, Maloof briefly telling us in interview, "There's a problem there." And there is a problem there! But Kyle doesn't want to deal with that. What she wants to deal with, back at the Palm Desert Grill and Cocktail Club, is the matter of Kim's house. Kim lives all the way out in Westlake and it's too far, plus her kids are grown and she has too much space, so she wants to move again, somewhere closer to Kyle. Or rather that's what Kyle wants for her. Kim seems content to be where she is, to have her own neighborhood, her own place, her own thing, but then Kyle starts saying stuff and as always Kim's blurry borders offer little defense so she doesn't know what's Kyle's idea and what's hers. It all bleeds into one another until she's so confused, confusion being just about the only emotion she can clearly identify anymore, so she says "No! Stop. Kyle. You're doing it again." And Kyle backs off, doesn't say "I told you so" about moving in the first place (last season), just sips her iced tea and looks at her sister with that hungry gaze, that need to press and control. Kim looks away as if to ward it off, but of course that look still bores into her. Some days she thinks it would be nice just to let Kyle take over. To become a baby again, to become a doll, to be a living ghost who just floats around from place to place, without a care in the world. Some days she thinks that would be nice. But not today.

Meanwhile back in Los Angeles, Taylor met up with Brandi to do a little damage assessment. She found Brandi still stubborn and mad, but willing to admit that she shared some of the blame. I think Taylor made her take too much of it, but what can you do. Taylor is more friends with Kyle than she is with this new Brandi, so that is that. Brandi can sense that, I think, but, though she said she never wanted to see the Richards sisters again, clearly she knows she's on this show and wants to be on this show so these are strained relationships she's going to have to deal with. I don't remember much of this conversation because it was kind of boring, I just know that Taylor was reasonable-ish, and Brandi ordered an elaborate salad with a side of fries and Taylor ordered... coffee. Maybe a lemon to suck on. Who knows. Brandi frowned. The sunlight streamed into the little cafe and that was the afternoon.

Over at Vanderpump Manor, it was time to plan Pandora's wedding. Heh. "Pandora's Wedding" sounds like a terrible play that the most annoying, full-of-herself girl in your playwriting class would write, doesn't it? Some pretentious Sarah Ruhl/Caryl Churchill-wannabe kind of play that everyone rolls their eyes at but she's the only one who wants her play read in class so everyone must suffer through it. "Act 1. A room with no walls. Greece, but also not Greece. Now, but also then." Ugh, Pandora's Wedding, I already hate you. (Though I do miss playwriting class. Let's all go take a playwriting class at the Annex or something!) I kind of already hate you too, regular Pandora's wedding, at least the wedding imagined by the wedding planner that Lisa hired.

The wedding planner is a creature that Lisa compared to Franck from Father of the Bride, which was very accurate (maybe this is who that character was based on?). But mostly you know this wedding planner as your dad. Your dad loves to plan a wedding, strutting around in his tight suits and red fire glasses and plumped-up, painted lips. Nothing makes your dad happier than to trill his fingers and say "A fabooluss wedding!" So into Lisa's house did your dad sashay last night, immediately ushering the girls to the backyard so he could see the space. Lisa's house is absurdly absurd, with gardens for days with secret alcoves and hidden tennis courts. Lisa would prefer her little Pandy-pants get married in a church, but that's not what the girl wants, so the whole thing will be outdoors at Vanderpump Acres. Your dad thinks this is great, though he does not approve of the fact that Lisa and Pandora are only thinking of having 150-175 guests. "No no, it must be fabooluss and grand!" your dad whined, his red sunglasses turning brighter with emotion. "Big, grand wedding, we must have a big Beverly Hills wedding!" Hey, who was running this show anyway? Lisa assured us that while your dad is said to be the best wedding guy in all of B. Hills, she will make the final decisions. After the yard consultation everyone went inside and Pandora talked about her dream dress. She wanted something with pink, to which your dad said "Oh nooooo. Oh noooo. Too tacky, too tacky." And you know what? Your dad might be an alien from the planet Foptron, but he did have a point there. No pink crystals or jewels or whatever Pandora was talking about. That could never end well. Then Lisa asked what sort of budget your dad was talking about here and he pursed his lips and made a little cooing sound and said "One million dollarsssss?" Lisa's eyes did a whole three ring circus and she said "Uh, no. $150,000 at most." Your dad shook his head, a tiny humming bird dislodging from his hair and flying free. "Is impossible." They all stood there awkwardly for a moment before, kindly, Pandora turned to her mum and said "Maybe I should just get married in a little English church." That was good, Pandora. A good thing to say just then. Then it was time for your dad to hop aboard his baby-drawn stageoach and fly away into the afternoon sky, but before doing so he kissed the ladies on the cheeks and Lisa said "Why is it that no one actually makes contact with the cheeks in California? They all just sort of hover." Your dad looked at her quizzically and then tossed his hand in the air and said "Beverly Hills! Chichi, chichi. Beverly Hills." Then he winked, blew a kiss, and disappeared. Your dad's great. He says you should call home.

The last event of the evening was a charity thing that Camille and her mother are involved in, an anti-cancer thing, as Camille's mother is suffering from the disease. Kyle and Kim have a special connection with this, as their mother passed away from breast cancer, so everyone was as somber and sober and serious about this thing as they could be. I mean, for a time. The event was some sort of luncheon, as everything seems to be a luncheon on this show, so everyone put on their best Easterware and headed off.

Things were mostly sedate and refined, Camille giving a halting little speech and presenting her mom with an award, so that was nice. There were a few bumps, though. Dana was there, doing her old bark and bellow and bellying, buying some kind of embarrassing fur coat for eight grand and trundling over to the ladies and saying "Hey, you see this? They're sellin' fur coats over there," and everyone else just being like "OK, Dana..." I feel like that's going to be the new thing: Shrugging shoulders and saying "OK, Dana..." to basically whatever she says. "Hey guys, I got us these platinum friendship nipple rings." "OK, Dana..." "You guys ever been Donny Osmond's private island? I could take you there, we could stay there on vacation for a few years." "OK, Dana..." "I was born hundreds of years ago and have been wandering across the Earth alone in search of friends and now I have you and you will never leave me." "OK, Dana..." It's just going to become the thing.

Of course Brandi was at this party and so was Kyle and they were sitting at the same table and uh oh tension or whatever. All Kyle did was sit next to Lisa and whisper in her ear and they would giggle while Brandi glowered. "It's all very middle school," she said, not incorrectly. But also, maybe just don't bother? Maybe just say fuck it who cares? Caring is very middle school too. Maybe they're whispering about something else entirely! (I mean they're not, but whatever.) Maybe it has nothing to do with you. Maybe just chill out, Brandi. Maybe get on your crutches and hobble away. Maybe don't be on this show. Maybe move to Oregon and live a quiet life with your kids and stop worrying about what strange harpies are whispering about you from across a table at a cancer benefit. Maybe that. I don't know. Maybe.

Meanwhile Lisa across the table was getting ready to say something to Brandi after Brandi muttered something to Taylor about keeping kids out of fights, but all she ended up asking her was where she lived in LA. Hm. Lisa is maybe lots of bark and little bite? Lots of posturing and attitude and little followthrough? Either that or we're simply waiting on some big Vanderpump explosion that will level us all flat. That could be building and will eventually erupt, causing a new volcanic winter, Lisa Tambora they'll call her. Or she'll do nothing. Who knows. These things are unpredictable.

And that was basically it. The luncheon ended without pyrotechnics and the city fell quiet once again. Kim, who was mostly OK this episode except for some erratic interview segments in which she was dressed in bizarre old-timey costume, did not attend the charity event, ostensibly because she did not want to see Brandi, but really it was because she'd decided she wanted to take a drive. She hired a car and had it drive her out to Palm Desert, her nails clacking on the window as she stared out at the dull brown expanse. It wasn't pretty, but it was home, she felt. It felt like she was going home. When she got to the house she rooted around in the potted plants and rocks by the front door until she found the hidden key and let herself in. The house was quiet, just like she remembered it, how quiet it had gotten with Momma there at the end. Kim lay down on the couch, and like Kyle's daughter earlier, pulled Momma's blanket over her, swaddled herself in it, made herself tight and cozy. She shut her eyes. She felt the ghost creeping around her.

She'd been there for months, or years, she couldn't quite remember, out there in the desert with Momma, who was so sick, getting worse, getting tireder and tireder every day. But Kim had been there to help, it was the first time since all the movie paychecks dried up that Kim had really felt like she was helping her family, doing something good, making herself useful, contributing. She'd make them breakfast and lunch and they'd sit by the window with the patio door open, letting the heat and the wind into the house, watching the leaves flutter on a tree, listening to the sound of desert birds calling to each other. Kim knew it was a sad time, but she also felt so good, just her Momma in this house, this house she'd live in forever, she figured. This house where she too would waste away and one day disappear from. Kim, lying on the couch, wrapped tight in the blanket, the awful noise and buzzing of this world seeming to cease for a moment, remembered that feeling, that wish. Of when Momma was almost gone. And Kim thinking, Kim maybe even whispering out loud, Take me with you. To wherever you're going. Please Momma. Take me with you.

But of course she hadn't, she couldn't. And so now there was this. Just this haunted house, just this woman, older now, alone on a couch. Listless, caught, eternally stuck. Kim's hands started to tremble, her skin became restless. She needed to move. To do something. She left the house, didn't even lock the door, got in the car and said drive, drive quickly please. She needed to be back in the city, back at her real home, back with all her things. She needed peace.

But as the car zoomed through the desert, a terrible thought filled Kim. What if Momma had done it? What if Momma actually had taken her with her? What if Kim was somewhere else, right now? What if this place was it? Forever. Oh god, Kim thought suddenly, the worried whir in her head beginning once again. What if it happened. Could it be? What if this is heaven?