Last Night's Episode of Vanderpump Rules Was Pure Shakespeare 

The greatest romance of our generation—that of Vanderpump Rules British DJ/busboy/Kristen punching bag James and the maybe sometimes escort/SUR hostess Lala—crashed and burned Monday night in a highly appropriate fashion.

The end of this affair took place at Gay Pride, while I assume rational gay people looked on and thought: Seriously, these idiots get to conceive the babies?

The night before everyone was wasted and James called Lala a basic bitch, but he apologized so everything is cool and now they’re ready to make some music together—actual music.

Hey, did you know that James raps? He does and hearing him rap might give you hives, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. James and Lala “made a fucking smasher,” that included James rapping, Lala’s background vocals and a beat stolen from SoundCloud. James also revealed that George Michael is his uncle, which makes a lot of sense when you think about it.

But alas, this musical connection did not lead to a love connection because nobody on this show is capable of love. James rolled up the next day with battle wounds—scratches and bite marks—all over his body that he got from a night of “playing with” (MY GOD I’M SO SORRY) with a SUR hostess named Lauren (not the one he cheated on Kristen with).

James greets Lauren cordially, as one does after a night of animal-esque lovemaking, and then proceeds to make out with Lala two seconds later.

Lala of course notices the marks, confronts James, and he admits that he slept with somebody else, leaving out that it was the girl who, one minute later, would comfort Lala over James’ dickishness.

James eventually tells Lala that he had sex with Lauren, provoking Lala to work hard for her Vandermpump Rules paycheck: She immediately tells Lauren’s SUR bartender boyfriend about the hook-up. Lauren runs out, rips her mic off and tries to have a private conversation with her befuddled soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

The whole production is rather magnificent in terrible way. It’s like a modern day, trashy, intoxicated Shakespearean play with too many sets of false eyelashes and $150 haircuts.

Especially because of the end: what feels like thirty seconds later, Lala and Jax walk off, hand in hand into the sunset, as Lala perfectly sums up the day: “Let’s get it poppin’ daddy.”