I’m going to be a bit presumptuous here and make a very specific suggestion to a bunch of people I don’t even know. Vanderpump Rules cast, listen up:  you need to immediately make all new friends – people who don’t have the keys to the closets where each of you store your mountains and valleys of damning skeletons – or you must refrain from carrying a cell phone ever.

Both acts would be hard to pull off.  After all, these people are earning money and a semblance of fame from interacting with one another, so the mass ditching of friendships doesn’t seem all that likely.  And if they didn’t carry phones, how would Jax manage to text random women at all hours of the day and night?  (You know those people who can surreptitiously text while their hands are under the table and they don’t even have to look down at the keyboard?  I suspect Jax can do that, but he doesn’t need his hands; I believe he’s taught his scrotum to be dexterous.)  Plus, if they didn’t have phones, how would Kristen be able to contact and allegedly be contacted by all the women strewn across this great land who have slept with her ex-boyfriend, women blessed with such high levels of awareness that they can simultaneously pick Sandoval’s shaved dick out of a line-up while reminding everyone who listens that it’s the limp-haired crazy woman back in Los Angeles that he continues to pine for desperately? 

Still, it’s the phones that keep getting all of them into trouble, and this week’s episode is no different, except for the fact that it’s Schwartz and Katie who are being destroyed by the intel found on an iPhone this time around.  See, Jax and Carmen have joined Kristen and her DJ boyfriend – whom I laugh at every single time I see his poufed-up hair and then I sober up when I realize that unfortunate aesthetic choice of his is still far wiser than the one he made to romance a deranged woman – at a pool party at a hotel.  Over drinks (which are ever-present in the lives of these heathens, lest any of them have to deal with the reality of who they truly are for too long), Carmen continues to maintain that she doesn’t trust Jax, which might be a better argument if she wasn’t reclining beside him.  But Jax is shocked – shocked! – by the lack of trust, so he gives his phone to Kristen (which is tantamount to handing a serial killer a chainsaw with an extra blade ready to go) and invites her to look through his phone and then inform Carmen that there is no evidence that he’s been texting other women.

Raise your hands if you’re idiotic enough to believe that a sociopath like Jax didn’t learn how to delete incriminating texts before the time he was toilet trained. 

Good.  Moving on.

There are no texts from girls Jax has been with, but there is one from a girl in Vegas who Schwartz allegedly slept with once.  It’s really best not to expend the energy wondering why all these people stay in touch with one another’s one-night-stands since it’s something that only makes sense when you are part of a group of friends who like to collect dirt on each other to have as part of an arsenal of evidence as a contingency plan.  But the text between Vegas Girl (who I’m guessing is totally different than Miami Girl, as I’m certain Vegas Girl has a degree in Astrophysics) sounds incriminating, what with the agreement she has made in writing to say she didn’t have sex that time with Schwartz.  And Kristen, upon hearing the news of a betrayal that will badly hurt someone she knows, smiles widely because she is an evil lost soul who will one day be a footnote in a Psychology textbook in a chapter that focuses on why participants of reality shows should not be clinically insane. 

Across town, Katie, Schwartz, and Sandoval go for drinks and Sandoval vents about how he cannot imagine continuing to work with Kristen, who last week tried to orchestrate a confrontation between him and Miami Girl.  Sandoval is frustrated; it’s exhausting to try to ignore someone who is crazy who does not have the mental capacity to ever understand that she is crazy.  Plus, as Sandoval states with pure eloquence, “I have too much things going on right now,” and since we’re coming off the Super Bowl where I placed bets on everything including the coin toss and which flavor Dorito would be advertised first, I’d like to wager that one of his “too much things” that he’s been preoccupied with is not that he’s been working on a Master’s degree in Linguistics.  That said, I genuinely fear for Sandoval’s safety and I hope he’s been taking Krav Maga in between spray tan appointments.

Scheana and Shay soon join the group for drinks, and Scheana yammers away about her wedding and that she’s worried about not having enough ice.  While it’s obvious that she’s primarily concerned with keeping beverages cold, I’d like to agree that there better be a ton of ice on hand that day to reduce the swelling that will be caused by her classy guests throwing punches and bitch slaps on her dance floor – and I hear ice might help in case Jax experiences an outbreak of whatever STD he’s recently caught, and if his scrotum is too inflamed, how will he text all of those lucky women?

But rather than get into the conversation about wedding costs and last minute planning, Schwartz is preoccupied.  He just received a text from Jax that revealed that Kristen found the scandalous information on his phone, and Schwartz immediately understands two things:  random sex with random girls might not always be a good idea, and he’d better tell his girlfriend some version of what happened before Jax, Kristen, or Vegas Girl herself can get to Katie.  He pulls Katie aside and explains that he made out with the girl in Vegas and that he was drunk and that he knows doing so was sleazy, but he was unsure about how things were going in their relationship at that point.  But the great news is that after a stranger writhed around on his lap, he knew definitively that Katie was The One!  Sadly, the manner with which her boyfriend managed to achieve clarity does not offer Katie any sort of comfort.  She is devastated and she feels betrayed and she knows the information is only coming out now because Schwartz wanted her to hear it from him and not from Jax, and I’m again going toss out the recommendation that it’s time for these people to make new friends who don’t seek to destroy one another.

Separate from the who’s-cheating-and-which-one-is-lying-and-during-which-course-of-Scheana’s-wedding-will-Kristen-try-to-asphixiate-Ariana shenanigans, Lisa Vanderpump is experiencing a real conundrum.  Should she fire the piece of shit who told the manager to go “suck a dick” last week, or should she keep Kristen as a waitress at Sur?  The issue seems pretty cut and dry to me, but Lisa says that she feels a sense of loyalty to Kristen after she’s worked for her for so many years and that Kristen is kind of like family.  Lisa?  I’m going to fax you the documentation you’ll need to emancipate yourself from any branch of any family tree from which Kristen swings.  As a token of gratitude, please allow me to play in your closet for a minimum of one hour and, prior to my arrival, please make sure your shoe size becomes an eight.

But peep-toe slingback fetish aside, Katie and Schwartz are in a rough place after the reveal of the fling in Vegas, and if it would make them feel better, I’d like to invite them to come try on Lisa’s shoes with me.  I feel for those two.  Schwartz clearly has all sorts of guilt for cheating and Katie clearly wants to forgive him, but cheating is hard to move beyond.  She berates her boyfriend for not getting out his slut phase in college and then walks away from him to go to sleep.  Luckily, Schwartz has the dog to cuddle with on the couch when Katie banishes him from their bedroom and, though it’s a cliché to say it, perhaps tomorrow will be a better day.

Hooray for clichés that turn out to be true!  Tomorrow turned out to be a way better day!  First of all, it was the kind of day when all of the Sur servers we’ve come to love and loathe work the same shift, so they are all there at once.  It’s like those Thanksgiving episodes of Friends where it’s just the six of them and they never leave the apartment, except in this case it’s like six people who want to murder one another locked into a cage that has Zen-like décor.  But even more than all of our favorite Vanderpumpers in one place, it was the day that Lisa – after searching ancestry.com in vain to see if Kristen’s lineage in any way wound around her own like a vice – became satisfied that, in fact, there was zero evidence that a Vanderpump-Doute lovechild existed back in the Middle Ages, and she finally decided to fire Kristen from Sur.

While I was watching the firing scene, I was so happy that I swear I could hear a choir of tipsy angels sing a song that DJ James had never ravaged in the distance.

Allow me to walk you through it:

Before work, Kristen sat on the floor of James’ hovel, winding a curling iron around her hair while he assaulted our ozone layer by spraying a full can of hair spray onto his own head.  And as she made herself look nice so that Sandoval will one day love her again, she mused that she did nothing wrong the night she cursed out her manager and tried to sabotage her fellow employees.

“I don’t think Lisa has any reason to be mad at me,” stated a woman who I have to believe screams into a pillow for a minimum of one hour each day.

But at work, Kristen is called into a meeting with the owners and the manager she verbally assaulted.  Rather than react with shame or any shred of decency, she instead stoically insists that she did nothing wrong, even as Lisa implores her to take some responsibility for her actions.  Responsibility?  Doesn’t such a thing require self-awareness?  Kristen, you see, has none of that, but she does have the chorus of maniacs kick-lining through her head that tell her that she should snarl and smirk as her boss all but begs her to apologize.  And when she steadfastly refuses to act like a human adult, Lisa finally just fires her and Kristen gets up and walks out of the room without a word.

Later in the episode she will explain that she was not fired for telling her manager to suck dick; instead, she was fired because Lisa can’t stand her.  And it was at that moment that I paused my television and just stared at the person who gets a salary for being sick.

Can this person possibly believe that one day Lisa threw the names of all of her employees into a crystal goblet and picked one out and the slip of paper said “Kristen” and so that’s why Lisa hates her?  Can this woman who our country grants the right to vote really think that it is not her own actions and transgressions and her bile-inducing nastiness that have caused someone to develop a low opinion about her?  Was she actually able to say the sentence “Lisa was attacking my character” with a straight face because all of the synapses in her brain have run fleeing from that head hers?

The reactions the Sur staff had to news of Kristen’s firing were hilarious.  Sandoval danced a jig.  Ariana demanded confirmation that the news was true and sighed the relief of someone who no longer fears for her life on an hourly basis.  Katie acknowledged that Kristen deserved to be fired after all the nonsense she’d pulled over the years.  And Jax did that ultra-slow clap thing that is taught during the first week of the first semester of Douchebag 101, the only class of his life in which he received an A.

My favorite reactions were that of the two guys from the Sur kitchen, guys we have never seen on camera.  These two men smiled and high-fived one another with a look of such pure joy that I can only surmise that Kristen has tried to pee in the seafood bisque on a regular basis.  I loved watching those men so much that I will dream of their gleeful reactions as I drift off to sleep like they are sugarplums come to life in a candy shop fantasy, which, incidentally, is a very real fantasy of mine ever since making the idiotic decision to give up sugar.

But in the post-glow deliriousness of Kristen’s dismissal from Sur, there are two men who are not fully joyful, though – for once – Kristen is not the cause of the problem.  Yes, it looks as though Jax and Schwartz are having a real conflict, the root of which is that Jax is an asshole who outs his friends’ transgressions on a rather constant basis.  I’m going to overlook the fact that the argument between them began soon after we learned that Jax has a fitness app called Jax Fitness – which is guaranteed to give your phone a virus – because I’m more interested in the fact that Schwartz told Jax to stop perpetuating lies about both him and Sandoval and then he asked Jax for an apology.

The conversation went like this:

Schwartz:  Just say you’re sorry.

Jax:  I’m not sorry.

Schwartz:  You’re such a scumbag.

Jax:  I don’t care.

And see, that last line is why men, women, children, and dogs should fear Jax.  He doesn’t care.  He is soulless and he has no conscience and those two factors rank quite high when determining that someone has literally no moral center.  The fact that someone like him is allowed to roam amongst the rest of us should terrify society at large.

Holy shit…can you imagine what would happen if Jax and Kristen ever had a child together?

World, meet the Antichrist!