American Idol 5: Episode 25
Ryan "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" Sleazebag stands in his usual "No, you can't touch it!" pose among the audience while the folks in the audience around him turn to gaze at the camera unblinkingly. Perhaps it's true what they say: the more you attend these shows, the more they suck the brains out of you and turn you into idiots of the corn. Sleazie says that the Seven will be singing songs from the past - hey, they can't be singing songs from the future, after all - but we are the ones who hold their futures in our hands. Therefore, it's their fault if we don't love them because they aren't blonde and act like a brainsucked blowup doll on stage - they can scream at their parents about that because it's not our problem. So, with conscience free of guilt, let us enjoy the credits and get ready for a jolly good time where we hold hands with the Uncles of this show and cheer Kellie on as she pole-dances around a Coke-colored pillar while apologizing for not entertaining us enough. Stop crying, Sleazie, we love Kellie now instead of you. It's your fault, you know, for being part of the show that helped to unleash the imbecilic blonde bimbo and her whiff of the trailer park trash on us all.
The doors of the Mothership slide open and out walks Sleazie. He's still keeping that beard. Funny, isn't it, how he's shrieking that he's out in the last few seasons and now he just wants to look scruffy and manly? Truth be told, he looks pretty rough in his current image. The camera close-up on his face reveals lines and wrinkles that suggest that our darling Sleazie must be too busy weeping into a bottle to the point that he misses his weekly Botox appointments. His smile feels more forced than ever as well. Is the charming little fame-hustler that we all love feeling a little tired of the show? Of course, he can't just quit the show because he knows that his dubious fame and more definite fortune are tied closely to this show. Perhaps Sleazie is feeling the tightening of the noose around his neck as the artifice of the show wears him down? Perhaps at the end of the day, all Sleazie wants is an honest conversation with someone while he's wearing a facial mask with cucumber eyepatchs while soaking his feet in scented camomile water. Instead, he's forced to host a tinky-tonk show that is more artifice and substance. How sad, if that's the case.
As Sleazie stand and let the applause die down, the camera zooms in on Marilu Henner in the audience. Um, who is she again? A quick search on Google reveals that she's some fitness guru specializing in giving people makeovers, while no doubt pretending that she doesn't have the number of Sleazie's favorite nipper-tucker in her list. Sleazie exhales deeply and I know that feeling - breathe, sweetie, it will all be over soon - while the camera zooms in on some signs like "Yellin' for Yamin" - cheap shot: but he can't hear you, sweetie! - and a bewildering "Go Pairs Chris". I think the last one must be "Go Paris Chris", with the poor dear obviously being unable to spell "Paris" correctly. There are also "Jethro Votes Kellie Mae", maybe Jethro being name of some block in some men's prison or something, and some women-love-Sleazie signs that are obviously planted among the audience by Sleazie himself. Sleazie is still trying to make King Tut jealous, I see.
Back to Sleazie, he looks ahead with a blank stare until he realizes that the camera is on him and he quickly snaps his chin back and starts yapping away to the camera. He says that the pressure is on the Seven since poor Bucky left last week. Sleazie blames Bucky's departure on people not voting for him. He's obviously angry at America for keeping Kellie over Bucky. See, America? Sleazie hates all of you now. Sleazie then introduces the judges: Randy Randy, Miss Paula, and King Tut. King Tut once more flashes his cheeky grin at Sleazie. Sleazie tries to look away but he can't escape. He has to smile back at King Tut. He will hate himself even more later. Sleazie says that we shouldn't let the fact that King Tut is underdressed fool us into thinking that... um, whatever we are thinking because tonight's theme is "a sophisticated affair": the Great American Songbook, or if you're a eleven-year old country bumpkin tuning to hoping to get Kellie to make your awkward entrance into puberty a little more enjoyable for an hour or so, music from the 1930s to the 1950s. Rod Stewart, who is rumored to be 117 years old, is of course the person to tutor the Seven.
Sleazie waxes lyrical about Fraggle Rod's "skintight pants" and all in the tribute montage, saying that Fraggle Rod was popular with ladies and gerbils in the audience. As Fraggle Rod prances in his spandex pants and screeches without irony whether Richard Gere thinks he's sexy, I am amused because while this show hails Fraggle Rod as some legend, if Fraggle Rod from the 1970s shows up auditioning for the show, the show would have kicked him out of the door faster than you can say "OMG DAT'S SO GHEY!!!!111111777" Sleazie reveals that Fraggle Rod is the perfect mentor because recently he started singing "classic tunes" (read: desperately trying to keep making money to support his newest child bride but can't actually jump up and down on stage anymore, so it's the Eric Clapton route for him now). As Fraggle Rod demonstrates how one can somehow make the leap from gerbils finding him sexy to him having a crush on Barbra Streisand, he tells the camera that there is no rock music if there is no Great American Songbook, coincidentally the title of the CD that he wants everyone to buy so that his child bride can get something pretty for her fourteenth birthday. "First we have blues and, you know, jazz came out... blues... then comes along the Jazz Era and jazz eventually turned into swing music which eventually turned into rock and roll!" he says. He also says that he loved these songs, it's in his blood - come on, everybody: "If you want my body! And you think I'm sexy! Come on, sugar, let me know!" - and therefore he's not turning into some boring old coot because he can't really go "If you really need me! Just reach out and touch me! Come on, honey, tell me so!" nowadays without people going, "Eeeeuw, that's disgusting, you dirty old man." Even if he is a dirty old man, heh. He and Mick Jagger are like irony-free sad little boys trying desperately to cling on to their long-faded youth and virility by sleeping with models that get younger and younger every year, but unlike Mick who is content to keep being himself, Fraggle Rod wants to join Eric Clapton's cult and inject tranquilizer darts into his music. Bless him.
Fraggle Rod brings his baby ("SEE? I STILL HAVE IT! I CAN STILL KNOCK HOT YOUNG WOMEN UP!") and his soon-to-be-dumped wife Penny, who must be getting a bit long in the tooth for him since she's obviously of childbearing age as he "tutors" the Seven in his gilded bodouir that is decorated with photographic evidences of Fraggle Rod clearly not in need of a super-strength dose of Viagra to do his thing. The Seven pretend to be happy as they enact a scene out of Brady Bunch, like they are happy kiddies happy to see Fraggle Rod. Kellie puts on a "Wow!" expression, hoping clearly to catch Fraggle Rod's eye and making herself the new receipient of his manly seed in exchange for a life of luxury. Fraggle Rod introduces the brat as Allister. Allister quickly tells everyone, as he is trained to do, "My daddy has a fifteen-inch penis!" Fraggle Rod also introduces the women he is cohabitating with but not yet formally married, Penny. No wonder Kellie is so excited. If she breaks up the twosome, God and her fans will still forgive her because it's not like Fraggle Rod is married to that cow or anything. Besides, she's a slut, unlike Kellie who will of course wait until she's married. Fraggle Rod tells everyone that he's sorry he's late because he's apparently making "wedding plans" instead of shagging the maid in the storeroom while Penny pretends not to notice anything amiss as she discreetly text messages Pedro the pool boy: "HOT MAMA + U TONITE". He then bites his hand to show everyone that he can be as corny and smarmy as Taylor too. Maybe they'll do a couple of Vegas shows together after this and then take advantage of the drunk overweight wives while their husbands are away gambling at the tables.
Sleazie says that apparently Fraggle Rod was a fun mentor. Fraggle Rod says that he can't do "this" at their age, apparently because he'd need some drinks first. After all, the poor Seven can't drink, have sex, or be anything but Christian or Jewish, or at least, they have to pretend that they don't, have never, and aren't in public. As the camera rolls, Fraggle Rod and the Seven put a play for the cameras about a loving mentor and his seven students. Fraggle Rod gives Ace "big hugs" and says that this hug will be in the newspapers. Ah, Rod, so predictably worried that any gay rumors will mar his public image of impeccable virility. He knows, right, that we've all heard about the gerbil and the quart of you-know-what pumped from his stomach after a botched party with Richard Gere? Chris is too manly to hug Fraggle Rod though. He just shakes Fraggle Rod's hand because he keeps his hands busy only with strippers (females, of course) that need to be saved from their lives of sins. Fraggle Rod concludes the Trump-like clip by saying that maybe he'll go back to doing rock songs. I can see it now, the sequel to Do Ya Think I'm Sexy called Please, Tell Me I'm Still Sexy, I Beg You.
Sleazie says that Fraggle Rod will be performing live the next night, although I understand that the Uncles have to discourage him from preceding his croakings with a live reenactment of the night Allister was conceived. Fraggle Rod is disappointed that he has to deprive an eagerly-anticipating world from total evidence of his virility but he understands that Kellie's fans won't appreciate a live telecast of the supposed deflowering of their faborite blonde dumbshell. With that, Sleazie now introduces Chris who will kick start the party.
Chris says that people will be surprised to learn that he will be doing Louis Armstrong's What A Wonderful World. Yes, we'll all surprised by the banal and unimaginative song choice. Why perform a song that is now synonymous with everything from beer commercials to insurance commercials? Always one to make everything he does come off as of deep and important significance, Chris says that this performance will rock everyone because it has values that are of utmost importance to him. No offense, really, I love the song but I honestly doubt that lines like "I see skies of blue - clouds of white/Bright blessed days - dark sacred nights/And I think to myself - what a wonderful world" can inspire religious experiences in people other than the really insipid types that publish their bad poetry using CaféPress or Lulu before whining on online forums that nobody wants to buy their books and therefore nobody appreciates good poetry anymore. Really, Chris. He can be a hot guy but he should stop trying to come off like some person with Deep Meaning that will Rock Everyone's Life so much. Just be Chris, okay? Anyway, he and Fraggle Rod talk about how Chris "grew up on heavy metal" and how "Ozzie Osbourne" can never sing this song - dude, he listens to Creed, not GG Allin, so just stop with the hardcore BS, alright? - and how I should, I suppose, give Chris a medal therefore for tackling a song that is now synonymous with pure, utter insipid banality. Besides, I don't think Fraggle Rod is the one to talk since his taking on those songs in his cash-in efforts isn't that good either.
Out walks Chris as he sings this song while accompanied by a lone guitarist. I don't find this performance any special. In fact, I am rather bored by this straightforward by-the-number performance of an already overperformed song. This song has been performed so many times by so many performers, Chris has to do better than merely singing it like he's at the wedding of some friend of his. It is only towards the last few lines that he improvises a little but by then it's too late. I've fallen asleep.
The judges now pretend that they haven't praised Chris for being true and therefore they now love this anomaly performance from him. Randy Randy says that Chris' "sensitive side" is "da bomb". And bombs, as we all know, go off in our faces most painfully. Miss Paula says that there are mermaid-shaped pancakes at her doll party later today so everyone is invited. King Tut smugly claims credit for steering Chris away from his usual screechy Jesus rock style and therefore he'd love to announce that Chris' performance is fabulous and therefore, by extension, so is King Tut. Sleazie moves to stand beside Chris and I really have a chuckle about how there is a very noticeable distance between the two of them that you can actually move in to stand between them in that space. Sleazie tries to touch Chris' shoulders but Chris gives that hand such a look that Sleazie quickly puts down his hand, heh heh heh. Throughout that brief moment of discomfort, both men keep their smiles plastered on like the professionals they are. Sleazie manages to swoop in briefly during his babbling about Chris not wearing any more eyeliner and Chris actually pretty noticeably steps a little away from Sleazie. But there is no escape for Chris as Sleazie rattles off his number. Even Chris' little Jesus-protect-me attempts to keep Sleazie away cannot stop Sleazie when he wants to put his hand on Chris' wide shoulder. Dang, I must get him to teach me his tricks.
Sleazie now sits at the stools with the little insipid songbot Paris who, for today, looks like some air stewardess. Paris squeaks something insipid that has "friends", "mom", and "feeling good" in the jumble of eek-eek-eek gasbaggery. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks and add in the ponytails on Paris as well. Is she really seventeen? I am starting to think that she's actually a hyperthyroidic ten-year old girl. Sleazie says that King Tut once wore a bunny costume at Sleazie's birthday party (honestly, I'm not making this up). I suppose we should all try everything once so hey, why not furry shag for those two, right? I wonder what Sleazie was wearing. A panda costume, perhaps? (A word of advice: be careful when looking up "furries" on Google - I once saw this picture of a guy in Tinky-Winky outfit doing... things... to a guy/gal - I can't tell from the Barney costume that person is wearing - and I still squeal in insane laughter whenever I remember that picture.) Oh, and Paris genuinely believes that the Great American Songbook is really a songbook. She's seventeen, I know, but I really don't think I was that ignorant when I was sixteen. Meanwhile, Fraggle Rod says that Paris must have had a jazz background because she was a natural in her performance. Fraggle Rod is amazed that Paris is seventeen because he was just digging graves when he was that age.
Paris performs Billie Holliday's These Foolish Things and she's very good tonight. Her enunciation is a little strange at times but she's smoking and her singing sounds very credible. The thing is, it is also very clear that Paris slips into this act when she performs. It's not her, this grown-up and sophisticated woman singing These Foolish Things, I don't know what's the real her. The real Paris is most likely the banal and somewhat dim-witted giggly teenaged brat and this sophisticated torchy singer I see singing on TV is probably the result of hours of calculated understudying under Stagemomma Bennett and every time Paris squeaks and giggles, I can never forget that. And this is why even as I like this performance, it feels contrived and fake to me. Because that's what Paris is to me: a well-trained monkey that has mastered several routines that it will perform on cue to entertain the audience. The real monkey isn't the one right now doing a good imitation of Billie Holliday - the real monkey talks about parties and grandmothers and everything else that doesn't go deeper than a scratch on the superficial plastic veener of Paris' shiny skin. There are sixteen year olds on this show in seasons past, but they are never as disconcerting as Paris, who acts like a ten-year old when she's not singing.
Randy Randy says that Paris is the bomb and the performance was her best ever because everything was in tune. Paris, is, after all, a robot more than anything else. Miss Paula blubbers that she'd like to go dancing on the moon while wearing stardust slippers. King Tut finds the performance "stylish" but like me, he is befuddled by the contradiction between the real Paris and the stagemonkey Paris. He thinks he likes Paris better when she's singing rather than speaking. There's a sad "we don't care about the real Paris" story waiting to happen here, I tell you. Sleazie comes down to King Tut's side and King Tut seizes the Coke cup that we all know contains alcohol. Sleazie says that he's not going to pour the content of the cup at King Tut (honest!) and makes a joke about King Tut sipping the "happy fuel". Shut up, Kellie, that doesn't have anything to do with you.
Taylor is next on the stools with Sleazie. Sleazie points out that over the weekend there is a parody of Taylor on some TV network that Taylor of course loves and is flattered by. He bonded very well with Fraggle Rod as he should be since they are both cut from the same cloth, except for that phase where Fraggle Rod got laid by plenty of women, gerbils, and Richard Gere while Taylor has to settle for overweight, tattooed, and chain-smoking wives of Vegas gamblers. Taylor steps up to perform Sam Cooke's You Send Me and... oh my, are roses blooming on my head? Let me check. Nope, that's just me temporarily driven insane as I clasp my hands like Miss Paula would and sigh happily as I flutter my eyelashes at the man with that oh-so-sexy and smoky voice singing one of the most romantic songs I've ever heard. Then I remember who I am sighing over and shriek in horror. Still, it is a very good performance, if a little too much like a Vegas bigtime concert thing at times, at least until the every end when Taylor predictably starts spasming and going into his epileptic seizure choreography that has the Soul Patrol foaming at the mouth in perfect synchrony. No, my lips are dry. I've checked, thanks for asking.
Randy Randy says that Taylor has finally found his element. What, singing cheesy old songs backed by a big band like some Vegas cabaret thingie? I'd agree, of course. Miss Paula says that the performance was so good that her ears have grown wings and are now flying all over the place shooting arrows of love into people so that they will make love, not war. King Tut says that he was expecting some cabaret show but instead, Taylor did something good. I agree. If Taylor keeps this up, I'd buy the CD. Just don't expect me to watch him when he's singing.
There are some disturbing signs in the audience, especially that one: "Ryan, will you be our brother?" Is that some kind of American Idol don't-ask-don't-tell codespeak for "Ryan, will you be our lover?" That or they really want Sleazie to be their genuine brother. Either possibility is disturbing, really.
Elliott's appearance has me dreading because if Taylor can drive me into a swoon, I'm terrified at how the charming monkey boy will cause me to embarrass myself even more today. Anyway, he's pleasantly flattered that someone like Fraggle Rod would think he's good. Elliott talks about how he grew up listening to standards (how predictable) and Fraggle Rod tells him that Elliott was born on the same year that Fraggle Rod's love song to gerbils hit number one. I suppose that's Fraggle Rod's way of saying that we should all tell Elliott if we think he is sexy.
Elliott's song choice is the very overperformed It Had To Be You and I am ready to be bored since I'm certain that only a very special performance of this ubiquitous song can possibly be interesting to me, only to sheepishly admit that I'm hooked line and sinker the moment Elliott lounges deceptively against the mic stand, glares at me with his wild "Hi, I'm Tarzan and I will ravish you all night long, phwoar!" eyes, and then smiles as he just shakes his head as if he has shared a private joke with me. "It had to be you!" he sings and I clutch one hand to my heart. "It had to be you!" he sings again and my other hand join the heart clutching at my heart. This performance is, in one word, hot. The vocals are lovely and actually very sexy as well, ahem, and he seems to be flirting with the listener through the performance: sometimes subtly, sometimes playfully, sometimes overtly, but always definitely.
Randy Randy loves the performance, using lines and phrases that we have all heard a million times in five seasons and can predict even before he speaks. If you need a hint, he mentions "song choice". Miss Paula thinks that the time is flying with purple butterfly wings and she can feel them fluttering on her skin when she takes a bubble bath in Spanish ibex milk every night. King Tut however thinks that Elliott's performance did not show his personality. I suppose one can argue that Chris' performance didn't show anything other than the personality of a doorknob but this is the time when King Tut will reveal his agenda and obviously the agenda doesn't include Elliott so there you go. Elliott is the last of the contestants with no screentime prior to the semifinals and he's already lasted longer than I expected him to. All I can hope for is for him to pull a Bo and defy all expectations of the people behind the show to the point that they are forced to acknowledge him in some way. As for Elliott, hey, thanks, Monkey Boy, for giving me something to look forward to next week.
Oh great, Kellie is next. Fraggle Rod calls Kellie "a firecracker" as Kellie pretends not to know that lyrics and words are the same thing. "My bad!" she says with a fake laugh that grates on my nerves like nails on chalkboard. Worse is her really bad pun to Fraggle Rod, "Well, you took off a load on my chest!" And everyone in that room starts to laugh while Kellie acts like she has no idea what she has just said. I'll take three Carmurps, four Princess Jasmelismas, five Rank Sinatras, and six Fatt Gross Bowels any day over this repugnant creature, I tell you.
Kellie's song is another overperformed one, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, which, if I'm not mistaken, is about this woman who is so happy to be getting laid again that she doesn't care if the man she's boinking is just using her. No wonder Fraggle Rod approves of this song. It's a song that he has performed many times indeed. Kellie's hickweed accent is totally wrong for this song, her plaintive and painful bleatings batter the song bloody, and she goes completely off-key midway into the painful performance while the band tries valiantly to keep up with her. This performance is positively putrid.
The judges slam the performance but Kellie goes, "Awwww! I butchered it!" She continues to whimper and simper as the judges blame the song choice (Randy Randy and King Tut), praise her looks (Miss Paula), and they all act like they have to coddle and pamper her so that she won't feel so blue. She continues to wimper and simper to Sleazie and I seriously feel like slashing my wrists to ribbons if I have to endure watching and listening to her a little longer. She's, if you ask me, the worst, most repulsive, most odious, most utterly vile, most disgusting, most off-putting, most transparent and phony, and most repugnant piece of trash that coasts on pity votes and other kinds of votes that have more to do with prisoners in the men's block rather than actual talent. And the worst thing, she has outlasted much better performers!
Ace seems like a godsent after that vile moment with Kellie, even if Ace is merely being the lesser of two evils here. Seriously, GOD, Kellie is the worst villain on this show ever. On the bright side, I don't think anyone other than her insane fans actually takes her seriously and should she win, she will definitely have no chance of a career that doesn't involve at least partial nudity. Everyone outside her insane circle of fruitcake-crazy fans knows that she's getting votes because she plays dumb and because they want her father to be proud of her when he is released in time to be in the audience as she faces off against Chris in a finale best retitled "Braindead versus Boring".
Ace unknowingly tempts fate by choosing to perform Nat King Cole's That's All. Fraggle Rod thinks that Ace did well, even better than Fraggle Rod himself. Since I'm not impressed with Fraggle Rod's version of the classics, I'm not as impressed with the compliment as Ace is. Ace slicks back his hair and looks like such a ball of grease that I start expecting him to mouth some cheesy lines about wanting it bad before taking off his clothes because that's how much he comes off as some sleazy porn actor even in his suit. Performance-wise, there is nothing truly bad about this performance just as there is nothing truly good about it either. Ace is Ace and his performance is like his performances in the past, skirting on pleasantness but never actually becoming memorable.
Randy Randy spouts off the "some pitching problems but at the end it's alright!" line. He wishes that Ace had performed entirely in falsetto. Miss Paula studies the light around Ace and asks Ace to always keep his light shiny and bright with plenty of grease as Ace will always be needed to show the way when Miss Paula is lost in the woods with the big bad wolf. King Tut says that the performance "wasn't bad" even if it was "a little bit nasally in the middle". He says simply that the performance is "charming". Ace seems relieved, clearly not knowing that this is King Tut's way of getting his fans to become complacent at voting. Sleazebag comes out to invade Ace's personal space in the pretense of wanting to check out Ace's slicked-back hair.
Finally, closing the show is Katharine. Her first choice of song was Frank Sinatra's I Only Have Eyes For You but after running through her choices with Fraggle Rod, she settles for another overperformed song, Someone To Watch Over Me. Fraggle Rod clearly wants to marry her in the introductory clip. Anyway, Katharine starts out seated on the stage and sings in a subdued, even fragile manner before moving into a truly well-controlled higher register. She finishes on a more subdued manner and all in all, this is a very good performance from Katharine who can be inconsistent. The camera also loves her as once again in this episode Katharine gets plenty of close-ups. She is, after all, striking enough to be worthy of such close-ups. There is something about her face that could pass her off as the third Minogue sister, I tell you.
Randy Randy goes "Excellent! This is your element!" Miss Paula is speared by the arrows of Cupid and she wants to swim free and fly unfettered because she is now loved by the One. King Tut compares her to a "returning pro" of a completely different league and says that she makes everyone else on the show come off as "good amateurs". I won't go that far but it's a great performance from Katharine nonetheless.
Sleazie quickly closes the show as time is really running out. And wow, is it just me or has the episode tonight been a fantastic one indeed? It has the best performances so far from Taylor, Elliott, and Katharine, which are, funnily enough, three people I'd love to see as the final three. This episode reminds me of the old days when I love this show instead of merely watching it through jaded eyes, so really, I'm truly pleased at how well this episode turns out.
Results night. Sleazie scolds us all, asking us whether we have did enough to save our favorites. Sleazie, dearest, if we have to do more to save our favorites, we would have to actually force Kellie into the smallest crate we can find and ship her off to a brutal third-world prison under the guise of a care package, and we don't want that to happen now, do we? So please be quiet, Sleazie, and let the credits do the talking, thanks.
Sleazie walks out to the stage after the credits while the camera zooms in on Fraggle Rod's family in the audience. It's probably in Fraggle Rod's contract that the show demonstrates his ability to impregnate hot young women even when he's 351 years old at every opportunity. Sleazie has shaved, by the way. I guess he doesn't need the beard anymore. Dare I hope that this means Kellie will be booted tonight? Nah, of course not. I'm never that lucky. With more energy and enthusiasm that he has shown in the last three episodes, Sleazie pretty much shouts out his welcome to the audience. Let me guess, King Tut showed up in a bear outfit last night? Anyway, Sleazie introduces the three wastes of spaces that are the "judges". King Tut wags his brows at Sleazie. Okay, maybe two bear outfits.
After the recap of the performances of the night before, Sleazie brings out Fraggle Rod while the band honors him with a rousing Gerbils Thought I'm Sexy. Plenty of self-congratulatory "We made the best episode ever last night!" self-pettings ensue, with Sleazie and Fraggle Rod trying to outdo each other in telling the world how brilliant Fraggle Rod is. Buy his CDs, everybody!
Now, the obligatory Ford clip where the Seven happily mangle Kim Wilde's Kids In America where the Seven show up dancing in signboards advertising their concerts/CDs as a mysterious Ford drives around town. The Ford then stops and an evil old woman kicks the tied-up and battered form of Kellie into a ditch before driving away. The camera zooms in on the words written over the duct tape covering Kellie's mouth: MAY SHE NEVER SUCK AGAIN. The end.
Okay, go buy Fraggle Rod's CDs. Just don't attend his live shows, if his subsequent performance of The Way You Look Tonight is anything to go by. His voice has no volume, he sounds like he's on the verge of falling into a coma, and I feel the same way listening to him. Next, it is revealed that Andrea Bocelli will be mentoring the Six next week. Make your own "he'll wish he's deaf too" joke. I used up all of mine when Stevie Wonder showed up. Personally, I only find Andrea Bocelli tolerable when he's warbling with Sarah Brightman but hey, that's just me, I suppose.
And now, the results. Sleazie pulls off the same "divide them into two and let the last person choose who to stand with" trick that will be amusing if they haven't pulled the same stunt in the past two seasons. Still, this is a tricky one because Chris is in one group while Elliott is in another. Kellie then joins Elliott while Paris joins Chris. Then Ace joins Chris and Paris (Paris' face quickly falls when she sees Ace joing them, heh) while Katharine joins Kellie and Elliott. So who will Taylor choose to stand with? Taylor chooses to stand with Kellie, Elliott, and Katharine and awww, the other group is the bottom three of this week. Taylor is safe, of course, along with the group he chooses to stand with. Paris is quickly sent back to the seats, leaving Chris and Ace, two of whom Sleazie calls the "Ben Affleck and Matt Damon" of the show, to burn in the hotseat. Oh yes, I can see the "So who's the top and who's the bottom?" jokes writing themselves already. King Tut, who doesn't know the results, of course, "predicts" that Ace is going home. Indeed, Ace is leaving. Finally, Chris embraces a guy, telling Ace that he loves that man.
Ace gets to watch his eulogy video where he says that he wants to entertain everyone. That's why he worked in a zoo prior to coming on to this show, I suppose. He then gets to sing out, and yes, it's really That's All for Ace, at least until he shows up at some gay adult film where he ends up shagging the brains out of "Ridden Seacrest" and "Semen Cowell" while "Randy Johnson" watches with glee. Or something like that.
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