Step aside, Frog and Toad. This week’s episode highlights the intimacy of Sonja and Luann’s friendship, which has perhaps grown stronger since they’ve been in the Benton vacuum. They get ice cream and new wigs and goof off in the animal shelter’s backyard. Sonja perseveres even though Billy Richard (RichAAAAHHD) has been texting her kissy faces at an alarming rate. Luann is raw-dogging dairy, even though we all know about the time she shit the bed. Being isolated in middle-of-nowhere Illinois has distilled a tenderness from them separately too. It’s very funny to see Sonja in pajamas, frantically pouring Dunkin into planters, and it’s also sweet seeing how genuinely worried about them she is. I mean, those plants are dead now. But it’s the thought that counts. Luann gets remnants of dog poop in her mouth, but it’s fine (well, about as okay as it can be) because she really cares about those dogs. Love is a cornerstone of platonic relationships too. In a place where no one else they know is around and there’s nothing to do, they have each other in a Dairy Queen parking lot, and for a moment in time, it feels like that’s enough.
I’ll quit the corniness soon, but not until we talk about Craig. I love seeing them be friends and do friend things, like destroying Craig’s spirit. At one point, Luann backs into a street sign, giving us a string of bleeped-out swears, which, for all of us in the reality-TV community, is the equivalent to a soothing lullaby. They call Craig over to fix it, during which Sonja cannot stop taking the worst photos of this man. He looks like he’s seen war. An exhausted Craig tells us that Lu and Sonj have “run me like a dog†before being like, “I love it!†like in the way you would say “I love it!†if the cameraperson was holding a gun.
But listen, Craig, they’re here to work. Akash and Hiral draft them to tidy up the motel rooms after housekeeping is out sick, with the loosest sense of what that means — new linens, maybe taking out the trash, etc. This scene was my Oppenheimer in that it unleashed the philosophical debate of our time: How many Housewives does it take to turn down a motel room? One is definitely not enough, but three or more feels like a national security threat somehow. Two feels like enough for the essential tasks. One person can spritz the bedspread with (hopefully preventative) bedbug spray like a teenager hosing himself down with Axe Body Spray. The other can watch the horrors unfold, experiencing a full moral reckoning in what it means to witness destruction.
Speaking of depressing things, we check out the underfunded animal shelter. Luann and Sonja are devastated by the dogs’ living conditions, which are so cramped that they “can’t even dry hump in there,†according to Sonja. These dogs are howling at these two women, which is a sign of respect, according to me, someone who has never had a dog. One lucky pup, Charlie — one of those dogs that has human eyes but still is cute — is rewarded with a thorough bath from Lu and Sonj (and mostly another guy). The place is run by Bobbie, a redhead who looks like she’s trying her best. At some point, Sonja suggests letting the dogs run outside, explaining that they’re barking because they’re cramped inside. This woman, happy to humor them, nods along as though she’s never thought of that before. She tells them that they’ve been wanting to put in a fence but that the shelter’s cash-strapped.
And it’s good that she does, because Lu and Sonj decide to pay for the fence themselves. Both are torn up about the dogs, but Sonja is moved by an even more specific cause, which is the right for dogs to be able to poop outside. “Every dog deserves to shit outside,†she tells us. “Lord knows I’ve shit outside when I’ve had to. I hear people shit in Crappie Lake. Why shouldn’t dogs?†Yes, Sonja! Pooping wherever is one of our fundamental rights. Bodily malfunctions can be used for good, which is an inspiring reminder to anyone else out there with a weak constitution. If she can figure out a way to package fighting climate change as a poop issue, I think we can get more elected officials onboard.
The poop talk feels especially appropriate at Dairy Queen. Lu and Sonj are so, so happy to be there even though neither of them should be eating dairy. It’s perfect. In the drive-thru, Sonja yells her order so slowly and methodically, like it’s a Satanic prayer chant of some sort, in case the drive-thru person is 300 years old and/or Mitch McConnell. They eat their medically inadvisable treats while debriefing the shelter situation, during which Sonja punctuates a serious conversation with a fart. She is the people’s princess. Luann, the people’s countess, walks up to the drive-thru to get another round.
Now that Dairy Queen is finally checked off the list, they can check out Sue’s, a boutique in town that looks like it’s for teachers who still believe in corporal punishment. The owner, an older woman in a pearl necklace and severe dress, gives off the vibe of a great-aunt professionally certified in slut-shaming anyone with visible ankles. Luann tries on a Lisa Rinna–esque wig that’s nearly identical to the hairstyle of one of the store’s employees. Sonja slaps on a blonde bob. This feels like the scene in a teen movie where two best friends are shopping for the school dance, except the stakes are that neither of them has clean clothes left and cannot conceptually understand a laundromat. Despite Sonja’s sticker shock (the $88 pants are on sale? Who in Benton is shopping here?), they leave with a haul on credit.
While shopping, they get a call that the playground will actually be ready in time (thank you, producers), and Luann and Sonja will be able to make the ribbon cutting. The new (and “totally snatched,†per Luann) playground includes a plastic house for children to play in and presumably for teenagers to smoke weed in. They meet with Craig and City Council member Lee Messersmith to assemble it. Sonja tells us that this whole thing is new to her because, as we know, she was married to J.P. Morgan’s grandson, and if they wanted a playground, they’d just order it. For the next time Sonja mentions J.P. Morgan, I think it would be a fun prank for someone to be like, “Who is that?†Once the playhouse is set up, Lee locks Luann and Sonja in it as a bit. He’s a sturdy man excited about public service who loves a flirty little joke, and so far, neither Luann nor Sonja has tried to have sex with him. What’s going on?
At the ribbon cutting, Luann holds everyone hostage with a long, long, LONG speech about how important this project was to them, how important the playground will be to this community, etc, etc. Everyone lets her finish because she’s a guest in this town and also because she happens to be holding a huge pair of scissors. Luann finds herself a hostage, too, when she gets trapped in a tire swing, but multiple people help pull her out. Community!
Patience seems to be wearing thin on Bentonites, but the playground’s done and the animal shelter has a fence. Craig is a shell of a man, but he’s so happy about the playground that he’s tearing up. (He grew up in this neighborhood. Aw, Craig!) They’re in the way most of the time, but the girls are making people laugh, and Benton is getting something out of their presence. What more could anyone want?