By the end of Party Down South last week, the fate of Mattie and Tiffany was hanging in the balance. ‘Cause, if you’ll recall, some green-shirted chick proclaiming to be the picture of Southern grace sucker punched Tiff — and was then cold-clocked by Mattie.
Accordingly, I must revise my previous assertion that it just isn’t a party until someone farts on a lobster. It just isn’t a party until Mattie basically materializes out of thin air to go Laila Ali on some girl’s ass.
And, let me tell you, these guys and gals know how to party.
Wild Lyle is in the house, y’all
Fortunately, despite Tiffany threatening to kick the bouncer holding her back in the balls and Wild Lyle getting escorted out, this particular night of partying didn’t end with a trip to the county jail.
“That night was insane but actually no cops were called,” says SallyAnn Salsano, 495 Productions president and founder and creator/executive producer of Party Down South. “As crazy as it was, I have a feeling it wasn’t the first fight that bar had seen and since it was all controlled quickly, the police were never involved.”
It did end up with equal parts displeasure and disappointment for Murray and Walt, though. “Now I’ve got three raging Cajuns raising holy hell out here,” Murray says just before the girl Walt has been “priming” all night gets spooked and bails.
That gives Wild Lyle more room in the cab, which he promptly puts to good use by banging his head against the front headrest.
When the cab driver asks Lyle to stop causing a damn ruckus (OK, those were my words, not his), he mouths off to the poor guy. And while I have no idea what he said because I suck at reading lips, it must’ve been pretty rough stuff gauging by the housemates’ reactions.
Especially Walt, who immediately responds, “Boudreaux, do not talk to him like that, dude.”
I suspect said anger may also be in part due to the fact that Lyle’s behavior at the bar earlier kept Walt from getting laid. The wiener rage is strong with this one.
Back at the house, Daddy gets at least another 10 percent cuter when he helps drunk Mattie out of the back of the cab and then carries one very passed-out Tiffany up the stairs (terrifying, I know).
Mattie tries to help once they get upstairs, but all three take a tumble — and Daddy, well, he collects his reward for being such a stand-up guy. “Tiff, I think my thumb is up your butthole.” Classic.
Meanwhile, Wild Lyle is still on the rampage and decides to confront Walt. Is it just me or is Walt even sexier when he’s pissed off about Southern civility?
“Boudreaux, there is no need for you to be disrespectful to someone when all they are trying to do is help you out,” he says, and I want to make babies with him a little bit.
Seriously, though, Lyle leaves and Walt starts kicking stuff all over the place. If kicking shit by the pool was a sport, the Party Down South gang would all have gold medals.
Say goodbye to Hott-Daddy… for now
After finally getting Tiff into her bed (and, presumably, washing his hand), Daddy starts grabbing on Hott Dogg’s buns at the outdoor bar. Hold up — didn’t he just tell her he wants to chill with this stuff?
When she tries to get cozy, he decides to stick to his guns and heads to bed alone. Hott Dogg, however, heads to bed crying. Boooo! Repeat after me, Daddy: Hott Dogg is not Lil Bit.
The next morning, Tiff doesn’t even remember the brouhaha at the bar. “You know you had a good time last night when you wake up with bruises and you’re still drunk. I nailed it,” she proclaims.
Sadly, her perkiness is short-lived. Coupled with the sun, her hangover leads to some super-classy, cabana-side puking on the job. Good thing her bosses love her.
“I wish all bosses could be that cool! Pat and Jesse definitely have a soft spot for Tiffany — Jesse even said he wanted to ‘marry’ Tiffany,” says Salsano.
Lyle is feeling pretty rough, too, but realizes the importance of a laundromat run. Walt tags along and they proceed to share the most awkwardly silent car ride in history. Until, that is, they grab a couple of subs. Food makes everything better.
They apologize to each other and it’s adorable. Er, manly. I mean burly and manly and not precious at all.
Back at the house, Hott Dogg is still heartbroken over Daddy calling off their summer fling. Murray is there to lend a supportive ear, offering, “I’m gonna go take a poop. You can talk to me through the door.”
If only we all had such supportive friends.
Tiff decides to take the tough love tactic with Hott Dogg, telling her to “quit trying to bounce from one bed to the next.” Perhaps it’s for the best. I mean, as Hott Dogg says herself, “Me and Daddy have a good connection, but we can’t seem to… connect.”
That is, they haven’t boned. That is, Daddy can’t keep it up. That is, duuuuuuuuude.
A hotdog contest hosted by a hotdog: What could be better than that?
Feeling a little homesick and worried about her pops, Tiff figures it’s time for a road trip to see ol’ Howie. Mattie touches base with her family and then the girls all pack their bags so they can hit the sack at a decent hour.
Despite the fact they are leaving early the next morning, Murray, Daddy and Lyle decide to get drunk anyway. Lyle suggests they have a hotdog-eating contest, which he insists Hott Dogg has to host. In her Hott Dogg costume.
She does, because she’s so gosh-darn cute.
Lyle is going hard at those hotdogs, even double-fisting ’em before his bounty of meat by-product comes back up. In an act of vengeance, he teaches the hotdogs a lesson by belly flopping on them.
But not before Murray is proclaimed the victor. “Overall, the guys cooked about 160 hotdogs, and Murray managed to choke down about 15 hotdogs,” Salsano explains. “The guys didn’t manage to eat all the ‘dogs, but the raccoons ate well for days!”
As punishment for losing to Murray, Lyle had to rock Hott Dogg’s wiener wear to work — “It was a dancing Boudreaux hotdog on the beach,” Salsano reveals of the must-see behind-the-scenes clip (check it out on this week’s Talk of Shame here).
Bring on the fried squirrel brains and family drama
When they get to Tiff’s house, there is some serious grilling going on: frogs, alligator, squirrel. You know, the other, other, other, other white meats.
“It was Daddy’s first time eating alligator and he loved it!” says Salsano. “Lyle also loves squirrel, especially the brains. The producers and crew also had a chance to try most of it and thought it was great… except for the squirrel. I don’t think anyone on our crew was brave enough to try it!”
Lyle’s mom, Ginger, arrives shortly after, showing up with booze in her hand and a duck call in her mouth.
Mattie’s mom and sister have yet to show up, which is torturous to see unfold because it is clearly destroying Mattie.
Eventually, Mattie says to hell with it and starts hitting the tequila hard. The more she drinks, the more emotional she gets… ultimately retreating to the bathroom, asking to be alone. So, naturally, the housemates grab a knife and jimmy the lock.
As the episode fades to black, Mattie’s portentous words ring out, “Tell everybody I went Martha!”
But fear not, fellow purveyors of drunken redneck debauchery, Salsano hints that this hurricane might not touch down entirely, teasing, “This was a really hard week for the girls. As for if it gets better, well, let’s just say you won’t be disappointed.”