A burst of glitter obscures the screen, to the sound of a cynical harp arpeggio. The glitter clears to reveal THE HOUSEWIVES, stacked angularly against one another like shopping carts jammed into the shopping cart corral in the parking lot of a rural WalMart. A petulant beat from a $20 keyboard for children begins to assert itself as the introduction cutaways begin.
The first HOUSEWIFE, CHRYSITIYE, stands isolated on a glittering CGI backdrop that evokes THE VOID more effectively than would blank darkness. CHRYSTIEYE dislocates her hip and strikes a sexually confrontational pose. It is time for her to make a DEFINING STATEMENT about HERSELF.
“I’m the queen bee around here, and everybody knows it.”
CHRYESTIY’S children, BRYCE and MEALOENEY, ages 4 and 6, appear, eyes glazed and grinning maniacally in the throes of a thundering cappuccino high. CHYRESTI’S terrible husband, DIRK, stares into the camera. DIRK looks like a wall.
We are whirled back to the tableau vivant of the assembled HOUSEWIVES again, only to be whipped away again into the shower of sparkles. It is KYLE’S turn to enter our lives.
KYLE stands isolated on a glittering CGI backdrop that looks like the last thing you see before darkness if you huff too much ether. There is, inexplicably, a chandelier. KYLE hurls her shoulder forward and perches her head and its hair atop it, like a vulture upon a wind-blown crag. It is time for her to make a DEFINING STATEMENT concerning her PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.
“I love my family and if anyone tries to cross them, I’ll take them down.”
KYLE’s mother, ANDY, who looks like an angry fish stick, balances hazardously beside KYLE’S SON, BRYXXEN, and KYLE’S DAUGHTER, NIKKI. BRYXXEN is 15 and spends his time off-camera masturbating to leaked celebrity nudes. NIKKI, 18, is the only decent human being on this show and is desperately trying to finish her college applications so that she can study civil rights law, only to find them soaked in Pinot Grigio and rendered illegible night after night. The camera doesn’t linger here long. We bypass THE HOUSEWIVES as a collective this time, instead hurtling self-sacrificially toward KARLA. KARLA wants us all to know that she has Latin American heritage. Here, just watch. She’ll bring it up.
KARLA stands isolated on a glittering CGI backdrop that causes stinging and burning in the eyes of viewers who suffer from astigmatism and is not recommended for patients who have had LASIK procedures within the past six months, or are planning to have cataract surgery. KARLA sashays perilously toward the camera. The music, which has been sold to several detention centers as an interrogation tool, takes a Latin-inspired turn. They’re really pushing this. KARLA prepares to make a DEFINING STATEMENT about the SALIENT ELEMENTS OF HER IDENTITY.
“I may look like a sweetheart, but watch out: I have a hot Cuban temper.”
Another burst of glitter hits the viewer like bear Mace and clears to show a man wearing the ugliest shirt $800 can buy. This is MAURICIO, KARLA’S brother. His real name is TRENT but we’re calling him MAURICIO.
This moment of respite is brief. We’re snatched up again, like a child in the claws of some prehistoric eagle, and jerked through glittering space. We arrive at the end of this existential hellride in another introduction. It is now time to meet HARRIET.
HARRIET stands isolated on a glittering CGI backdrop that professional heavyweight boxers will recognize as identical to the sensory experience of getting punched in the face by an expert. HARRIET is wearing a long white gown and facing away from the camera. Slowly, HARRIET’S HEAD spins around of its own accord to lock eyes with the viewer. It is time for HARRIET to make a DEFINING STATMENT about the RELEVANT ASPECTS of HER LIFE.
“I have been dead for 400 years.”
Obviously, HARRIET does not need to introduce her FAMILY, as they have all been DEAD for 400 YEARS.
The camera heaves back up again, but this time there is a feeling of lightness, as we are nearing the end of this title sequence. All that’s left is KURTNEY.
KURTNEY stands isolated on a glittering CGI backdrop that reminds you of the time you almost drowned in a hotel pool. KURTNEY’S knees look like a horse’s knees. KURTNEY’S teeth look like a horse’s teeth. I’m not being mean. KURTNEY is an actual horse. KURTNEY clops closer to the camera, eyeing it suspiciously. It is time for KURTNEY to make a DEFINING STATEMENT about WHAT HER FUCKING DEAL IS.
The camera spins dizzily like a drunk child at a roller rink and pulls itself upright to find KURTNEY’S family standing there, like idiots. KURTNEY’S “MOTHER” ASHLEE, to whom KURTNEY is enslaved, is posed with every limb so torturedly akimbo that she looks like a Cubist painting of a pile of rakes. KURTNEY’S “FATHER,” BLAKE, is trying not to let his face give away that he is embezzling large sums of money from his elective pediatric cosmetic surgery clinic. KURTNEY’S “SISTER,” ASHLEE II, is 14 years old and boy is she an easy character to get a grasp on just by the looks of her. You get it. She’s fucking awful.
Finally like Odysseus, we return to the scene that this sequence opened upon. THE HOUSEWIVES are crowded together like a Dickens orphan’s teeth, blinking frantically as if they’re trying to call for help in Morse code. With one last burst of strength, the animator inserts the title graphic with the glitter effect, and as the light fades from our eyes, we remember forever the image, of THE UNBEARABLE HOUSEWIVES OF BEING.