Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
American Idol 4: Episode 19


Men's Round | Women's Round | Results

Eeeeee! Wednesday

Sleazebag stands with the Eight Guys and Eight Ladies on the teleport chute just as the Event Horizon begins to land on Planet Suck. It's a tight squeeze, which I'm sure is exactly Sleazie's intention when he makes everyone stand on that small space. Blah blah blah we have been waiting for this moment blah blah Top Twelve blah blah credits.

Ryan "The Boys Are Back" Sleazebag steps out in a rather mundane ensemble of pink shirt under black jacket. What happened to the moron shirt from yesterday? I'm partial to that one. Blah blah blah journey from 100,000 people to twelve people blah blah 120 million votes came in woo-hoo owwww thank you well done. He points to his right, where the eight guys are seated at the top row of the Grill while the eight ladies are seated at the bottom row. To Sleazie's right are twelve cheap, shiny blue plastic seats for the chosen ones. I'm sure at the back of those chairs are written "Property of The Show - In More Ways Than One". Sleazebag introduces the judges. Randy Randy whose dogs bark at night, Charmaine Miss Paula whose lucid thoughts always elude her, and King Tut who is never happy because the people in his life suck and he doesn't know how to be happy with anyone else. These people will be judging America's good taste in music. And they say stranger things have never happened before.

Sleazebag gives a long recap for the Monday and Tuesday shows, which is how five minutes of my life pass by just like that, and finally asks Mario, Lindsey, Trachea Boi, and Vonzell to come on down and join him on the dais. He then reveals that they are all safe and they can now take a seat at the We Own You rows. Vonzell is particularly excited to be sitting on one of those shiny plastic seats so she goes "Heeeeeeyyyy!" as she hugs the other three people joining her at the plastic slave pen. Is Mario gay or what? He pretty much shoves Lindsey out of his path as he runs straight to embrace Trachea Boi. Trachea Boi, on the other hand, would rather show Lindsey her seat and wait until she sits before sitting down himself. He's not as gay as Mario, I think. Sleazebag asks the four to relax and enjoy the show before bringing up some sick bucket joke. Don't tempt me, Sleazie. He wonders which of the two rocker guys will make it to the Finals. Or should that be One Cool Rocker and One Freaking Talentless Piece Of Crap?

After the break, he starts on the people on the Grill. Cattle is going through. Shocker! I bet no one sees that one coming. Nadia is going through too. Oh my, what other shocks and upsets are in store for me next? I better get the aspirins ready in case my weak heart can't take any more of this. Sleazie asks Conty Bint and Bo to stand on each of his side on the dais. He asks Conty Bint whether he still thinks that he and Bo are competing for the same niche. Because "No, because I freaking suck, I am greasy, disgusting, can't carry a tune, and I freaking suck so much that I am not even worthy to clean Bo's shoes with my tongue" is too honest for someone like him to utter, Conty Bint says that he and Bo are two different people catering to different audience (Bo for people with good taste, Conty Bint for deaf people with a fetish for greasy four-chinned pigs) so he thinks it will be cool to have two of them in the finals. Of course he would think so. Sleazebag tells Bo to take a seat at the slave pen. Conty Bint frowns and pouts in what he hopes to be a sexy look but he's no Jonathan Rhys Meyers, that's for sure. Sleazebag then announces that Conty Bint is going through too. Wow, another shocker! I feel a yawn coming on.

Sleazebag asks Randy Randy to comment on the eight people who made it through so far. Randy Randy says that this will be the hottest group of eight ever. It's official: Randy Randy is a big stupid buffoon. Put eight screamy monkeys throwing their droppings at the audience and he would still call them the hottest group of eight ever.

Anwar is pronounced property of the show, lock, stock, and barrel. This leaves Travis, Scott, and Nikachu on the Grill. He also tells Jessica that she is through, leaving Mikalah, Amoonda, and Janay on the Grill. Mikalah is channeling Lillian Munster after a rough catfight with Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, today.

Sleazebag now calls the three guys to join him on the dais. He asks Randy Randy to comment on who he thinks will make it to the finals. Randy Randy says that it is a tough decision between Scott and Nikachu. Miss Paula refuses to answer because she loves penises too much to choose so she wants them all. King Tut says that he knows who should go - Travis. Miss Paula then launches into a speech about how penises always make her feel proud so she wants penises. Mmmm, penises. Penises! Sleazebag then announces that Scott is in the finals as the token Quasimodo to represent the ugly guys of America. Goodbye, Nikachu, goodbye Travis. I will miss Travis' smile but he should go. Nikachu doesn't deserve to go but I can't say that I am surprised by his departure. He is overshadowed by Anwar in every way and these two men with similar music styles must be competing for the same votes. Nikachu, unfortunately, isn't a memorable contestant and in this show, being boring is worse than being bad but memorable because if you're boring, people forget to vote for you.

Now Sleazebag invites the three remaining ladies down to the dais with him. He asks Randy Randy whom he thinks will make it to the Finals. He thinks Mikalah will. And what do you know, Mikalah will be going to the Finals. Yup, I really don't see that one coming my way. Poor Amoonda is trying so hard to hold back tears as Sleazie gives and Janay the canned compliment about how it was a honor to have them around, see ya and don't forget to shut the door on your way out. With the women, at least, America voted right because Amoonda and Janay were the worst performers yesterday.

Mikalah's reaction to her making the cut to the Twelve is another reason why I can't help liking her: she overreacts often but her tears seem to be genuine. When Joe Murena was in danger of being eliminated, she sat on the grill with a genuinely pained expression and it was clear that she didn't know that the camera is on her (unlike Nadia and Cattle who were impassive until they noticed the camera and magical tears suddenly fell down along their cheeks). Later, Joe and she are revealed to be good friends - insert your own fag-hag joke here - so I can't help feeling that her pain was real. Now, she jumps in relief and runs straight into Scott's arms. Scott. A self-conscious pretender would probably run for Trachea Boi or Conty Bint but she doesn't care who she jumps into the arms of as long as it's someone who shares her joy. And this fellow is Ape Boy. To sum it up, I like Mikalah because she reminds me of some overly-precoccious, determined, ambitious young lady who still remains a little girl at heart, her drama queen reactions to elimination and suspense are aggravating sometimes but they never feel feigned for the cameras, and she has an interesting voice and song choices that put her somewhere between Budding Gay Icon and Self-Absorbed Diva.

A montage of the twelve dancing stupidly recaps the people who are in Twelve. After watching Mario do that weird dance thing, I realize that he's such a Guarini redux crippled by a style that screams 1983. Thus dies my last lingering love for this guy. Sleazebag now poses with the Twelve and ask the judges for any advice. Randy Randy tells them to "bring it every night". Miss Paula... never mind. King Tut snickers and says that the Twelve must be more concerned with finding a place to celebrate their making it to the Twelve. Miss Paula quickly asks them to go party and have fun. She's a complete parrot this season. Does she actually say anything that hasn't been said previously by the other two? Randy Randy suggests that they party with Sleazebag. Yeah, that will work. Sleazebag's idea of a party, I suspect, is a boring event in his living room where pretentious Lenny Kravitz music plays while people snort coke while trying to look like they're finding their next creative muse at the end of the straw. King Tut finally tells the Twelve to be original. "Take risks!" shrieks Miss Paula. Um, yeah, that's what he said, you silly woman. King Tut tells the Twelve to act their age. "Mikalah, be perky again!" shrieks Miss Paula. Yes, that's what he said, oh shut up, you silly woman. When Mikalah decides to take risks and be herself, that stupid "TAKE RISKS!" woman tells Mikalah to revert to her stereotyped self. Woe befalls any idiot who actually listens to her or the other two judges.

Sleazebag brings an end to this utterly insipid attempt of a "workshop" and announces that the show, like him, is out. With that last shocking revelation of the episode, the show is done for.

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