Before YouTube, recapping music videos is totally a thing and not a waste of time. Really..
AMERICAN IDOL
Season 3: You Keep Me Hanging On
The Twelve are standing on the stage as Ryan Sleazebag asks the audience to gaze at the "most famous faces" in America. The camera pans on Fatt Gross Bowel, Amy Adams, the Pen Salesman, Fantasia, Huff Granddaddy, and Rank Sinatra - no wait, people, do not readjust the TV set, you really are watching American Idol, not the MadTV America's Most Wanted parody episode. And with that, the credits roll, and the first leg of the finals - Soul Week - has commenced.
Ryan "Why Watch Fame? See Me Flame!" Sleazebag walks out in an outfit that proclaims grey as the new dull.
The camera moves across the audience. They are allowed to bring in the signs they spent hours to make in the faint hope that someone out there actually cares about their ability to color hearts red and write "love" in glitter. Memo to the person that made that "I Believe In John Stevens" poster - Rank Sinatra won't know what to do with a real woman. He'll cry and call the cops and you will be arrested for statutory near-rape, so don't do that. Go work on some coloring books instead.
Back to Sleazebag, he smiles and says that everyone watching this show looks great. Me? Thank you, Sleazie. My anorexia to get me ready for the Season Four auditions isn't being wasted after all. "American Idol has landed!" he announces, "Welcome to the mothership!" See, I told you the aliens are coming to kill us all with cute. Princess Jasmelisma is the alien mother who will make Ripley cry. He points out the new studio where the Finals will be held, and indeed, the new studio is bluer, wider, spacier, and probably sponsored by whichever corporation that has patented the color blue. He says that this studio must be expensive. He wonders what it is capable of. He wonders what the audience is capable of. The audience takes this cue to emit a eardrum-splitting cheer. Oh, those stupid kiddies. Sleazebag reminds people that while they are wastes of space, oops, I mean, he says that there is a lot of space but enough room for only one American Idol.
He then brings out the Twelve. Fifty-year old Amy! Forty-eight year old Fatt Gross Bowel making stupid V for Vulgar gestures with his hands! Camile! The Mad Magazine parody cartoon character of the long-lost member of the Monkees - the Pen Salesman! Fantasia and her big lips! Forty-six year old Huff Granddaddy and his dinner-plate sized eyes that will suck your soul out of you! J Hu! Princess Jasmelisma of Hawaii... er, wait a minute, why is the camera showing Latoya when Sleazebag is calling out Jasmelisma's name? Di Guano! And Latoya again, waving at the camera!
Now comes the judges. Sleazebag accuses King Tut of taking the jobs and stealing the women of Americans everywhere. He calls Miss Paula the only woman King Tut will never have. King Tut's sinister response of "Wanna bet?" is audible over the cheering. Sleazebag, shame on you for bringing up poor Paula's history with men! I'm sure that she is still recovering from her ill-fated relationships with Arsenio Hall and John Stamos. Sleazebag doesn't forget to introduce the "aerodynamics" Randy Randy, whom Sleazebag says is always partying. Thanks, Sleazie, for the explanation of Randy Randy's subsequent incoherent babblings. Sometimes too much partying isn't good for the gab.
Sleazebag says that he never imagines that he will paraphrase James Brown before thirty million people on TV, but he does it anyway, saying in a cheesy accent that we won't be here if we ain't got soul. But at the end of the day, we are still here after this soulless episode, so James Brown, bless him, doesn't know everything. Sleazebag has the urge to wear tight polyester pants and rhinestone suits. He's such a brick house.
The first person waiting to perform is Latoya. In her introductory clip, she explains that she is twenty-five, married to a wonderful man, and has two adorable stepchildren. Since she was a kid, she loves to sing. She loves her mother, whom she calls her best friend and confidante. Latoya is a band of wedding singers called the All Star Jukebox, and we have her fellow bandmembers proclaiming her greatness and asking people to vote for her. Latoya says that she loves singing at weddings because it is heartwarming to see people in love sealing their vows. Her husband and stepchildren chime in their love. Latoya loves her family and she also loves fame and hopefully your money when she puts her CD out. She hopes to touch people's hearts. In restrospect, I really appreciate this clip because it is the only one that makes the featured performer come off as a likeable human being.
She comes on stage and launches into Ain't Nobody. It's a great song to start the show, but the arrangement is truly horrid. While Latoya starts out shaky, she regains ground to launch a strong performance. Unfortunately, the background vocals nearly drown out her ad libs. Speaking of ad libs, Latoya ad libs a little long when I'd prefer that she sings the chorus to demonstrate her vocal prowess better. How much can she show when she's just repeating "Ain't nobody! Ain't nobody!" to the very loud background vocalists blasting out the chorus? It's a good song, and Latoya's performance could have been better if they haven't used a backing track stolen from the nearest high school talent-time event. The producers spent so much money on the stupid studio, I'd have thought they could spare a few extra dollars for high quality background tracks for the Twelve.
Randy Randy, after some gratuitous and annoying honkings, says that Latoya was hot and her performance was a great way to start the show. He loves her personality and thinks that with her unbelievable performance, the show tonight is going to be hot. Miss Paula asks Latoya how she felt standing on the new stage. Latoya says that she felt like a star. That's because Latoya is a star, Miss Paula insists, and predicts that Latoya will last a long time into the Finals. King Tut calls Latoya's performance amazing and wonders where she will go from there. Latoya, he says, illustrates why this show is important to people like her. I guess that he's talking about the exposure this show affords to its contestants. He calls Latoya's performance tonight as well as those in the introductory clip "awesome".
I don't know about anybody else, but I feel that the judges are overstating Latoya's brilliance. She's polished and she carries herself like a professional, but honestly, the performance isn't as great as the judges make it out to be.
Latoya sits on the stool on the right side of the judge. Sleazebag stands next to her with his left leg lifted a little to draw King Tut's attention to him, that flirty hussy. They launch into a brief inane chatter about energies on the stage, King Tut's praises, and King Tut's bombs. Don't ask. Sleazebag announces a commercial break and promises more "soul classics" to follow once the show returns. Be very afraid, people.
Amy is next. Oh, Amy! She is so funny! She will make sure you know that she is funny. She lives in Bakersfield where the biggest landmark is the Bakersfield sign. She is a make-up artist who scats on the job, much to the minor irritation of her best friend Courtney. Her mother loves her. Her sister is so different from her. Amy loves small toy dogs. Toy dogs love her too. So why don't you? She has three chins at the last count and she looks like she's pushing fifty on a good day, but she loves dogs and she has pink hair and... good grief. Singing gives her a rush, she says. And when she sings, I rush to the exit.
Her You Make Me Feel Brand New starts like how she always does - too low, too breathy, only to build up in her mediocre Celine-ish belting manner to a truly weak crescendo. The song really tests her range and unfortunately, her high notes are really flat and her falsetto towards the end is painful to listen to. Oh, and I think she forgets some lines in her first verse.
Randy Randy asks her what is going down. I don't know what he is asking, really, but I think my dinner is coming up after listening to her. Amy gives a bad attempt at a coy smile, lifts her shoulders in what she hopes to be a cute self-effacing gesture, answers that nothing much is going down, and asks Randy Randy whether he likes her package. Randy Randy loves her package. He also loves her puppies. He asks King Tut whether the latter loves Amy's puppies. King Tut says dryly that he loves her puppies.
Randy Randy tells Amy that she starts out weak but her performance at the finish is strong. Is Amy nervous? A little, she answers. A lot, she says when Randy Randy jostles her playfully, adding "'Aite?" in an imitation of Randy Randy's manner of speaking. I love how Amy can be simultaneously insulting as well as insincere at the same time. I bet she has perfected that attitude on her forty-fifth birthday when she woke up with a bad hangover after being fired from her sixth failed attempt at being a country singer and realized that her last chance at seizing that elusive fame can only be gained by her pretending to act like a teenager on this show. She has to be a really bitter woman inside.
Miss Paula calls Amy a goofball. She loves Amy's package too! Amy isn't happy with Miss Paula's non-compliment, saying, "Thank you... I think." Miss Paula insists that what she said is a compliment. King Tut thinks that Amy's performance was "dreary" especially following her introductory clip where she tried so hard to be zany and cute. Amy tells him after making a face that she hopes America will give her a chance to try harder the next time.
Both she and Sleazebag hope that Amy's package makes her look sane. She worries that her package will make look like a crazy person. With all this talk about Amy's package, I hope people considering a sex-change operation, or at least the basics of transsexualism, will learn from the tragic example that is Amy Adams, self-professed package-packer.
Fatt Gross Bowel is next. He's twenty-five. Really! And he plays football. He was on Family Feud with his family. His brother insists that Gross Bowel is a nice, sensitive guy. There's a black and white photo of a younger Gross Bowel, shirtless, wearing only leather suspenders and bow tie - must be a photo from his professional escort days as "Chubby Bear". Gross Bowel loves his nephews and nieces and he wants to have seven children of his own. I tell you, if men are the ones to carry the brats they want, they will never want children and the world will be a better place. Seven children, huh? I bet he just wants a seven-dwarf chain gang to clean his house. He played football while studying at the University of Washington, and his greatest memory is winning at Rose Bowl. His old team mate says that Matt is the "X-Factor" of "Team Hurt". Between that and Gross Bowel in a bath tub, I may never want to see ever again. Another team mate talks about how Gross Bowel will serenade the players in his jockstrap before the game. I'm glad that football players are so much more in touch with their sensitive side nowadays. Seriously, ex-Husky players are such awful liars. Gross Bowel hopes that he will prove to America that he's more than a football player - despite having an introductory clip (or "package" as this show calls it) that is all about football, I guess - and understands that he is also an uncle, an entertainer, a singer, and... uh, whatever.
His Hard To Handle isn't soul like the Otis Redding original as much as the very bad karaoke version of the Black Crowes' rockier version of that song. He is going at it with the subtlety of a lunatic hooligan rampage through a soccer game. He is shouting more than singing and there doesn't seem to be much of a tune coming from him at all. He's also squatting down and making angry faces at the audience and the camera. Fatt Gross Bowel is like Josh Don't Tell with another two hundred pounds and a bad hairpiece piled on. I probably don't have to mention his affected twang. It seems a given on this show that when guys can't sing, they imagine themselves to be some sort of country singer instead. He thanks everyone once he's finished. Thank you, Gross Bowel, for stopping just in time before I will have to spend the rest of my life wearing diapers.
Randy Randy asks him what is going down. Yucks, kill me, somebody. Gross Bowel says that he hates it when Randy Randy says things like that because he knows that the man will say something "bad". After all, Randy Randy always uses those nonsensical gibberish phrases of him judiciously and only on horrid performers. Randy Randy assures him that the performance was Gross Bowel's best so far. Gross Bowel preens and says that Randy Randy asked him to pick a "tough guy" song, which is what he did. For those who want to shed the dumb jock image, always remember: a "tough guy" song always does the trick, especially when you follow it with you forcing your girlfriends to throw a wet T-shirt contest for your wholesome, sensitive entertainment. Randy Randy says that vocally, Gross Bowel was just alright for him and repeats that he feels that the performance was Gross Bowel's best.
Miss Paula says that Gross Bowel had fun on stage, paid attention to the front row, and chose the right song to perform, so she feels that Gross Bowel will go far in the Finals. I don't think she means "far" as in "far, far, far away from my TV show", alas. Gross Bowel then turns to King Tut and greets him in his best girly serial-killer voice. King Tut says that he has never seen anyone with the exception of Sleazebag who is so happy to be on TV. Yes, King Tut, he's such a camera-conscious fameho, isn't he? Unfortunately, Gross Bowel is such a painful presence on TV with his size, his facial expressions that are devoid of intelligence, his atrocious comedic timing, his incessant cracks about physical abuse that make his size even more intimidating, and his being a football player in "Team Hurt".
King Tut compares Gross Bowel's performance to a second-rate Tom Jones performance. He's too kind, for which he is booed by the audience. King Tut turns and says that the audience will clap for anything that night. Back to Gross Bowel, he calls the performance "corny". He also thinks that Gross Bowel's "package" is presidential with all those babies. Again, he's very generous with the euphemisms tonight. I'd substitute "presidential" with "totally devoid of sincerity". Randy Randy concedes to King Tut regarding the presidential package but argues that Gross Bowel can sing. King Tut says that unlike Latoya, Gross Bowel doesn't show any star qualities.
Sleazebag suggests that they send Team Hurt to King Tut's house tonight. After apologizing in the media for his crack about making King Tut's head bleed, Gross Bowel proves that he hasn't learned a thing by gleefully saying, "Maybe we should." Or maybe they are talking about Team Hurt doing more peaceful and enjoyable things together in the Tut mansion. After all, they're a bunch of guys that enjoy being serenaded to by a guy in jockstrap. Maybe King Tut still has some jackstraps left over from his own sporty days. If that's the case, I'm so proud of them. We need more sensitive footballers around.
After the commercials, Sleazebag hopes that I am enjoying the show as much as he is. He has absolutely no idea.
Camile is next. She walks in a bikini on a beach in her introductory clip because she is from Hawaii and Hawaiians wear bikinis all the time. It's like a national costume or something. Hawaii is a beautiful place and people spend their whole lives living, laughing, and eating pancakes in restaurants. Camile, like everyone else, has no ambition and says that she enjoys working in a restaurant. Her stepfather says that Camile has no idea how big she has become by becoming an American Idol finalist. I'm sure he will remind her of this every day. Camile insists that Hawaiian teenaged girls are like her - they talk for hours on the phone, surf the Internet (maybe they are wired using some special lei thingies, because I'm not sure that they have electricity over there), and wake up late on "normal days", maybe because restaurants open late too and waitresses come in later to work. Camile celebrates her victory by jumping in the playground castle. Her mother insists that Camile isn't comfortable with attention but decides to stop suggesting that Camile be a doctor. After all, having a pop star daughter is more fun than having a doctor daughter - just think of the money you can embezzle from dearest daughter when you are her manager! Camile also teaches people that the girls here are small-town types: she will miss Hawaii when she's at Hollywood, provided that she's not coked through her gills, that is. Stay tuned for the next episode of Them Funny Hawaiians later tonight as Princess Jasmelisma will introduce the other species of female teenaged girlies that live on that distant planet called Hawaii.
Camile steps up, steps down, grows roots from the soles of her feet straight into the foundations of the stage, turns into stone, and booms out a very soft and lifeless version of Son Of A Preacher Man. It's probably a coincidence that last season's zombefied stage-fright ridden Julia Tomato performed this song too, because Camile is the second coming of Tomato. The biggest problem here is not her vocal performance, which is adequate, but the volume of her voice. I can barely hear her over the background music! There is a small adjustment of volume a little into the song, but that's because the sound people raised the volume of her microphone. Camile doesn't seem able to adjust her performance, she just sings like a preprogrammed robot on stage, only this time someone accidentally keyed in the wrong volume level into her motherboard.
Randy Randy thinks that Camile has a nice voice but he was unmoved by the performance. He couldn't find the "Wow" in that performance. Miss Paula cuts in to say that there was the "Wow" in Hawaii where Miss Paula speaks for the world - the world in her mind, that is - when she says that everyone loves her Lauryn Hill act back in Hawaii. She asks Camile to have fun because Miss Paula says that America already loves her. Who has the biggest brain rot of the night - Miss Paula or Randy Randy? These two talk like near-gone junkies and their ears tonight seem to be clogged up because they are praising some truly ghastly noise pollution tonight. King Tut snorts at Miss Paula's calling Camile nervous - Camile is petrified, he points out, and tells Camile that the difference between her and Latoya is that Latoya has "self-belief" and Camile doesn't. If Camile doesn't have it, he says, she will fail, simple as that. I'm not sure that I like the incessant and premature Latoya pimping from King Tut, but other than that, he and I are mostly on the same wavelengths tonight. I'm not sure whether I should be comforted or worried.
Camile reassures Sleazebag that she believes in yourself. Yeah, I can see that. Sleazebag calls for a commercial break after reminding people to dial 1866 to vote and not 1800 like a few thousand idiots did the last few weeks and got scammed in the process.
When the show returns, Sleazebag once more thanks the audience for making this show the number one programme in America. And now it's the Pen Salesman's turn to go on stage.
In his video clip, he explains that he is twenty-four. His father was in the military and as a result the family is always traveling, but not too often so that the Salesman clan consists what seems like twenty-five siblings and their six hundred children, all looking as if they have stepped out of some family value posters from 1940s America. The Pen Salesman looks very different, heights-wise and looks-wise, from everyone else in the family, not that I am insinuating anything unkind - I'm just making an observation. The Salesman clan always dance and play music at the drop of the hat, it seems, and the Pen Salesman here also claims to have the talent to draw portraits. Meanwhile, he is studying to be a pediatrician because he loves children. To pay the bills, he also works at some nursery (the botanical type, not the baby kind) where he now claims to have an affinity to botany too. Is there anything that this guy can't do, other than singing and dancing? Wow!
Gee, is it just me or are the contestants' clips this season feel like something beauty pageant contestants put together? "I love animals, I love children, I want to have ten children of my own, and I want to save the world," they will gush, right before they win a recording contract and start taking up drug habits and sexual perversions, all thoughts of having children and loving the stray doggies soon forgotten.
His song is Drift Away, which is also the song Corey Vanilli performed last season during Country Rock Week. What a versatile song, that one, maybe it'll show up next season in Big Band Week too. I have no idea what the Pen Salesman's performance has anything to do with soul. The fact that the chorus mentions rock-and-roll should have told him that this song is better off categorized under some other genre.
Like the AI bad male singer stereotype, he is injecting some twang into his voice. That is the show's motto, after all: "If you suck at singing, guys, pretend that you're doing a country song". The Pen Salesman has this annoying tendency to growl instead of sing in what seems to be an attempt to emulate the original performer of whichever version of the song he is singing. Here, he is singing in an even lower timbre than last week, and it's excruciating to listen to as he's barely in tune. But even that small attempt at singing is soon abandoned for more spastic dancing where he bends his knees and shakes his buttocks as if he's polishing an imaginary toilet bowl seat with his bum. What is this? No doubt he's encouraged by the popularity of his spastic twitches to ham it up every week, but this is supposed to be a singing contest, not a class clown competition!
Randy Randy expresses his happiness at the Pen Salesman surviving the Elvis phase of last week. He thinks that this performance revealed the "real" Pen Salesman, which may not be a full compliment as he tells the buttmonkey to let the vocals do the talking the next time around. Miss Paula tactfully says that the Pen Salesman is "spoiling" everybody by dancing so much and suggests that he holds back a little next time because there's a chance that he will run out of breath mid-way through a song. She says that she can see how the Pen Salesman gets his moves from his father. The camera pans to Jabba the Castle in the audience giving the two thumbs up gesture. They must have just moved him and the seat from the Red Room to the audience before the show start. King Tut says that the Pen Salesman does dance like his father, and he adds that he is not complimenting the Pen Salesman. The audience boos. King Tut says that the Pen Salesman is the "dark horse" to win the competition and says that the Pen Salesman will do well to cut out the dancing even if half of America loves the spastic twitches. Potentially, he says, the Pen Salesman has a good voice. Miss Paula nods approvingly, saying, "That's a good thing!"
Sleazebag asks Jabba the Castle to show some moves. I really laugh when Jabba quickly shoots out of his chair and starts making towards the stage. Sleazebag's face is a classic "Oh crap!" expression, the kind you get when you invite an unpleasant relative to dinner out of courtesy, thinking that the invitation will be turned down, only to realize that the relative is not only coming to dinner but moving next door as well. He quickly orders Jabba to stay there on the floor before the elderly camera-ho starts climbing up the stage and insists that Jabba do the moves there. Jabba obliges, the audience cheers, and Jabba shakes hands with King Tut. What is telling though is the expression on the Pen Salesman's face while his father is having fun on the floor - he's not that amused. In fact, his smile feels very tacked on when Sleazebag turns to him after his father's performance and holds up a portrait Sleazebag claims that the Pen Salesman did before the show. He wonders whether the portrait is King Tut minus some earrings. The Pen Salesman just says that he drew the portrait because Randy Randy needs company. Seriously, that's what he says. There is a few seconds of awkward silence as Sleazebag looks taken aback and at loss for a rejoinder. Miss Paula quickly cuts the silence with a praise on the portrait - "That's fine!" and Sleazebag quickly adds that he will frame the portrait for King Tut.
I have a feeling that the Pen Salesman is mostly likely a nice and pleasant guy with a wicked sense of humor, as long as he doesn't try too hard to mask his inadequacies with his far-reaching class clown antics. Sure, everybody loves an idiot, but I do hope that King Tut remembers that nobody buys music made by an idiot and he will do all he can to sabotage the guy's progress. This is one incident of audience manipulation by the show that I won't complain about.
Sleazebag reminds people that today's theme is soul, just in case people get the wrong impression and mistake the theme to be pure soullessness sucking really badly. He says that Fantasia is now going to "roll it".
Fantasia in her clip talks about living in High Field, North Carolina, where the only big things are the front street "and me now!" She has a large close-knit family and she calls her father "Dadtasia". Her parents say that people are moved by Fantasia's singing since she was a toddler (insert your "Move the heck away from me!" joke here). She introduces her daughter and her church. Unsurprisingly, she leads the choir in the church. Her mother is a preacher at the church and her grandmother is the pastor, hence the boss of everybody. Her mother says that she has taught Fantasia to always live the right way. Her father plays the bass. Fantasia reveals that both she and her brother auditioned for American Idol. Who gets in will get the other sibling's background vocal services. Fantasia gets in, so now she gets her brother as an unpaid background vocalist in her future CD as well as the adulation from fans and hangers-on alike when she struts around town. She has one life to live, she says in conclusion, and she intends to enjoy hers to the hilt.
Who wants soul? Fantasia's got the soul, baby! She really brings it with Signed, Sealed, Delivered. Wearing a smart black suit and pants outfit, she has toned down her vocal acrobatics and her bobo dance this week, letting her vocals do the talking, and she's really good. Her vocals are solid, her stage presence is undeniable, and she works the crowd - and me - like a professional. Unlike Latoya, Fantasia's singing is less polished but has far more character. Her stage presence has more pizzazz. I think I have found my favorite contestant and I look forward to seeing her try her hand at a ballad just to see how good she is at a slower change of pace.
Randy Randy says that Fantasia had brought "it" down and "that was hot". His vocabulary is slimmed down along with his physique, apparently. He calls her one of the three or four "unbelievable" performers on the show, comparing her to a young Aretha. I think "young Aretha" is seriously pushing it, but then again, the judges have compared the Pen Salesman to Beck and Steve Tyler in the past. Pushing it past the edge of nonsensical stupidity is the judges' specialty on the show. Miss Paula says that "we" are her church. Someone in the audience is holding a sign about Fantasia's lips. I don't dare to read closer. King Tut calls "Fan-tuh-zeeeia" the real thing and she thanks him.
Sleazebag makes fun of King Tut's way of saying Fantasia's name. Hang it up, Sleazie, you're not funny. Get a new schtick, please.
After the commercials, Sleazebag says that the pressure is on. Since Huff Granddaddy is next, that explains the pressure on Sleazebag. Um, never mind.
Huff Granddaddy reminds people that he is twenty-three years old. Wait, I thought he said he was twenty-four? Never mind, he's just getting younger. Ten years from now he'll be calling himself sixteen. In his video, he wants people to know that he is a special, special child. He loves to eat because he's from New Orleans. His family reminds people that Huff is Special. He is always smiling so people smile when they see him. Run, Huff, run! Life is a box of chocolates and Huff Granddaddy says that he is always smiling because he grew up in the projects. Aww, this is like a story for Reader's Digest: The Special Child From The Projects Who Touched My Life With His Smile And Music, minus the part where the Special Child always dies from cancer at the end and everybody and God's angels weep at the funeral. Instead, the Special Child grows up to be Huff Granddaddy, queening it up for the introductory clip.
My problem with George's smile is that when he smiles, his eyes actually widen to the size of dinner plates. Usually people's eyes twinkle when they flash a genuine smile, but George's eyes only get bigger in diameter until he looks like a creepy posessed doll that smiles evilly right before he plunges the chainsaw into his victim's stomach. His performance of (Sittin' On) The Dock Of Bay is very listenable and definitely soulful, although he sounds noticeably hoarse at the higher registers, but his performance is an exact gesture-by-gesture duplicate of last week's Wildcard performance: his eyes are wide open, his movements consist of him standing there with his legs spead wide and him bending his knees so that his body bops up and down and up and down and... well, he looks deranged when he sings. Once a while he will raise his free hand to show the audience his palm. All the while he bops his body up and down and up and down and up and down and... ugh, he looks definitely deranged, like the Chuckie doll that is singing as he walks down the corridor while I cower in the closet and try not to scream in terror.
He gets a standing ovation because the audience is afraid that he will suck their souls into his eyes if they don't. Someone is holding a sign saying that the monkeys at some San Diego zoo love Huff Granddaddy. Then he turns his creepy wide eyes at those poor monkeys and they immediately lose their ability to reproduce.
Randy Randy says that Huff is a seasoned performer and that performance was the best he had heard from Huff. Miss Paula gushes that Huff is so infectious and so young-looking and ooh, that "naked lip" (Huff has shaved off his moustache) is turning her on! She insists that America loves Huff. Let's make Miss Paula the first female President of the United States since she loves talking on behalf of that country! She can get Gross Bowel's presidential package and it will be Abdul and Gross Bowel for 2008. King Tut says that unlike Latoya, Huff Granddaddy isn't aware of how good he really is. He hopes that Huff stays long on the show so that at some stage he will show the world that there are other parts of him other than those two big petrifying eyes and that hideous clown mouth that eats a stack of plates in one munch for breakfast.
Sleazebag and Huff Granddaddy show off Huff's eyes and mouth some more. Ugh, go away, the both of you.
Now it's J Hu's turn. She's twenty-two and has lived in Southside Chicago all her life. Her mother says that J Hu has been singing since she was a kid and her sister lists out how J Hu and her sister are different. J Hu can't believe that she is paid to entertain eight thousand people a week on a cruise ship. There's a "museum" to her in her high school and she is thinking of donating her infamous pink outfit there. That is, if she can find where it has vanished to after last week's show (hint: she can start searching in Sleazebag's dressing room). I like this introductory clip. Along with Latoya's, this is the few clips that make the contestant look halfway normal and not some future overbreeding, overcompensating, oversinging, oversensitive hope of the new world.
Baby I Love You is her song. J Hu sounds okay for the first verse, but once she starts ad libbing after the chorus, things start to go wrong. For one, the stupid backing track nearly drowns out her vocals. She is also acting out her song, which is quaint to watch but unfortunately also adds to the clutter drowning out her vocal performance. After Fantasia and Huff Granddaddy, J Hu's performance really suffers in comparison.
Randy Randy loves the performance and the control J Hu displayed during the performance. He thinks that this Top Twelve is the best ever because so many people can sing and he doesn't care what people say. Miss Paula seconds that, praises J Hu for her focus and control and adds that no matter what King Tut and J Hu's sister may say, J Hu looks beautiful in Miss Paula's eyes. Then again, everything is beautiful to Miss Paula, so a big whatever to her. King Tut wants to date J Hu's sister. J Hu says that she will get them in touch. King Tut thinks that J Hu made a bad song choice and she is also oversinging. The other two judges disagree vehemently, Randy Randy wondering whether King Tut has heard Aretha sing. That guy is brain-damaged, I'm positively sure of that now. King Tut rightfully ignores that idiot and tells J Hu instead that she is good but he's overdosed on the oversinging taking place on the show.
J Hu tells Sleazebag that as long as she sounds good, oversinging or not, she's good with it. The crowd applauds. Sleazebag then calls for a break, saying that King Tut needs time to adjust his chest implants. Now, now, Sleazebag, don't mock those. How's the chest hair implant doing, by the way?
Speaking of oversinging, here comes Rank Sinatra. His video clip? Old people, grandma, grandpa, Dean Martin music, Frank Sinatra music. I feel so young watching him, and he's supposed to be sixteen-year old!
Milking his Rank Sintra gimmick dry, he performs Lately in that Brat Pack style he wants so much to emulate. He has a nice voice, really, but this performance is a note-by-note monotone that makes me want to pass out from boredom while listening to him. He stands there like a plank, sings with a dead-eyed expression on his face, and there is no emotion at all in his singing, no passion, just a cold fish ninety-nine year old near-dead coot trapped in an ugly red-headed sixteen year old boy's body. The few moments when he tries to do those High Notes thing that is apparently compulsory for every contestant, his voice actually cracks.
Randy Randy says that tonight is the first test for these contestants, and Rank Sinatra failed that test with his performance. Randy Randy was bored to tears by that performance. Miss Paula thinks that he is a gentleman that performed in a very classy manner. She has her tongue hanging out for every young teenager on this show that she is pathetic to watch. King Tut agrees with Miss Paula and says that Rank Sinatra is "middle America" (can that be in any way considered a compliment) and he breaks the monotony of the show. Breaking the monotony with monotone - wow, that's some deep, philosophical rambling there, King Tut. King Tut says that Randy needs to clean his ears. Randy Randy, in a moment of lucidity, says that being laidback alone does not mean that the performer automatically qualifies to be compared to Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin. Thank you for saying what I am thinking, Randy Randy!
Sleazebag and Rankie... oh, whatever! Who's next?
Princess Tinkerbelle of Bulgaria is next. Oh boy, how many more contestants are there that have yet to perform? Can they all come out and sing one song together and the show can end immediately after?
It is very telling that Tinkerbelle's mother is featured more prominently in Tinkerbelle's introductory clip than the contestant herself. The Queen of Bulgaria talks about how she defected to America with her husband to have a family in a country where they have "many opportunities". There's an American flag flying prominently in the clip somewhere. The Queen of Bulgaria says that Tinkerbelle has been singing and dancing since young, with Tinkerbelle coming home after school to lock herself in her room to rehearse. Yeah, that's what the Queen thinks. The poor dear probably just wants to hide from her mother who will most likely use a cattle prod on her until Tinkerbelle becomes the perfect clockwork performer that the Queen wants her to be. Tinkerbelle goes to a school attended by Jimi Hendrix and Quicey Jones. Let's face it, the Queen probably forces her to attend that school because of its history. The principal hopes that Tinkerbelle will complete the trifecta of musical icons in its alumni. Maybe she and the Queen force Tinkerbelle to dance and sing every day for hours until Tinkerbelle collapses from exhaustion. Tinkerbelle says that she feels blessed to be on this show and she says that she is living the American dream, or rather, her mother's American dream, no doubt. Poor Tinkerbelle.
She sings You Keep Me Hanging On. Yes, that was the same song that Livvie Oliverie performed last season, right before she became the first boot from the Finals. Either Tinkerbelle deliberately courts superstition in order to escape her mother's clutches or she is just obtuse. Whatever it is, she is shouting rather than singing here, although she may be shouting because she knows that the background track is drowning out her voice. Look, Nigel the Mr Producer, I know that Justin Guarini still has to fulfil the rest of his contractual enslavement to you people, but can't you put him in charge or something else other than handling the sound system of this show? Maybe he can go lick stamps or something? Back to Tinkerbelle, I don't know whether she is having stagefright (unlikely) or maybe years of stage-mom tyranny have caused something to snap inside her, but she is singing as if her mind is in a faraway place. Her singing and her stage motions all feel robotic, as if the person behind the motions have checked out a long time ago. She looks good though tonight with straight hair - she looks like what the show tried to do with Kelly Cluckson and failed.
King Tut has a "What on earth?" expression as he turns to see the audience giving Tinkerbelle a standing ovation. Maybe these people are paid by the Queen of Bulgaria to do so.
Randy Randy says that the performance wasn't Tinkerbelle's best and he feels that she is aware of the fact. Miss Paula says that the performance was a "telling moment" because Tinkerbelle was aware that she wasn't at her best. No, I don't understand what she is saying either. Miss Paula tells Tinkerbelle not to give up because "everyone" loves her despite Tinkerbelle being "underpitched". I still don't understand a word Miss Paula is saying. Can I use the Queen of Bulgaria's cattle prod on her? King Tut tells Tinkerbelle, "Leah, I'll pack your bags." No, that's not King Tut being servile and fawning, it's just another one of his botched attempts at being mean. He says that she will be the first to leave because she is not good enough for this show. The Queen of Bulgaria in the audience gasps and looks close to passing out on the floor.
Next is Princess Jasmelisma of Hawaii. She continues to educate people on that strange planet Hawaii where the Sexy Princess Camile left off. Jasmelisma isn't Sexy, she's the Cute one. Cute Ones in Hawaii sleep in beds covered with flowery patterned bedsheets. They speak in baby voices and smile as if they know they are too cute for everybody. Jesmelisma's family perform bad karaoke before taking turns to insist that Jasmelisma's talent comes from them. I really hope her brother isn't seriously saying that Jasmelisma inherited her talents from him because I thought only Australians do that sort of thing with their mothers. Cute Ones in Hawaii spend their time doing the hula because it narrows their waist and makes them more cute. They also wear flowers over the hole in their head to protect the fizzy pop air filling their skull cavities from escaping. The fizzy pop air helps them wheeze in a nauseatingly cute baby voice that will bore into the skulls of non-Hawaiians like electric stone drills.
Inseparable is Princess Jasmelisma's song. Or is that IiIiIiIinSeEhEhpaAaAarAaAaBle? She starts out okay but as the song progresses, she starts increasing the volume and the frequencies of melisma to the point that the performance is more like an irritating show-off session than anything else. But because this kind of oversinging is encouraged and viewed as "great singing" by the idiots on this show, she gets a standing ovation. The crowd laps up her nauseatingly coy "like a flower" stunt. Jasmelisma can sing, but because people keep encouraging her to reach for high notes instead of actually singing, she can't perform, not yet, if I'm making any sense here.
Randy Randy can't imagine that she's seventeen. Me neither. She's trying to look like twelve and she's actually succeeding. And I slap irritating, giggly twelve-year old girls in my free time. Miss Paula, trying too hard to convince people that she wants to sleep with all of these skinny teenagers that can barely sing on the show, is effusive with her painfully vapid gushings. Someone - probably Jasmelisma's brother - throws a rose at the stage and Jasmelisma misses it. Sleazebag gallantly picks it off the floor for her. Jasmelisma puts on that affected "Who, me? I know I'm cute but gosh, I'm so cute!" face as she listens to King Tut call her someone who can "potentially" be "really good".
Sleazebag asks Jasmelisma who in her family really deserves credit for her talent. Jasmelisma looks dumbfounded. If it's not about Hawaii and flowers in her hair, she doesn't know anything about it. Sleazebag suggests that maybe Jasmelisma's talent comes from a "team effort". Jasmelisma shrugs and says that she guesses so. And then she returns to making baby faces at the camera. Someone should make a sign that says "Bitch, oh please!" and holds it up at the Jasmelisma camp because the Princess here is so cloying and insincere in her giddy cute trip, she makes my inner Lilo roar forth and want to rip some flowers out of somebody's hair.
Next is Di Guano. If Jasmelisma is cloyingly cute, I am ready to rip off ears off with my own hands when I listen to Di Guano speak in that horrible baby voice of hers. Bitch, seriously, oh please. What's with all these nauseatingly pink and perky sixteen-year old girls and their Giddy Barbie act? Di Guano squeaks in her introductory clip that she... oh, what's the point? These clips are all the same. She's cute! Her friends love her! Her family love her! She talks on the phone like a normal teenager, and she surfs the Net too! If she is reading this, oi, Di Guano, stop with that disgusting baby voice because you are sixteen, not nine. This is American Idol, not the Mickey Mouse Club, so you and the Princess of Hawaii can grab each other's ponytails and gallop on your pink ponies off the cliff. I'd appreciate if you can do this before the taping of the next episode.
Her song is Think. She's good, I'd give her that. She can really sing, she can work the crowd, but I can't help feeling that she's performing without actually knowing what she is doing. There's a very rehearsed vibe I am getting from her performance. Di Guano is like a very practised local talent time contestant. There is nothing about her, however, that suggests that she really knows what she is singing. Think is a song that may be upbeat, but it's about a woman begging her boyfriend not to walk away. Di Guano is singing it with a smile on her face - "Freedom! Free-ee-ee-dom!" Yes, she's sixteen so she could be excused for not understanding what she is singing. My point here is that I'd prefer that Di Guano grow up and work on her talent instead of squandering it on being a vapid pink pop princess for the slavemasters of the show. Unlike Jasmelisma, Camile, and Tinkerbelle, the other three Pretty Young Cheerleaders on this show who can all go hang for all I care, I feel that Di Guano can go places if she is given a chance to evolve on her own pace. I'd suggest that she stop putting on that affected cute-me act for starters.
Randy Randy is very impressed and insists that this Top Twelve is the best ever. "Dope" is how he describes Di Guano's performance. Miss Paula raves about Di Guano's "effortless octave switch" and "pure tone". Di Guano looks at King Tut and squeaks, "Uh oh!" Bitch, please. King Tut says that Di Guano looks like a big doll but he isn't as "touched" by her performance as he did with Jasmelisma's. Miss Paula offers to touch him, and he quickly turns her down, heh. Miss Paula is very excitable today, if I may say so. He admits that it's just a matter of personal preference, and he concedes that Di Guano can sing very well.
Sleazebag and Di Guano chat for a while about nothing in particular. Then the screen at the stage comes to life, showing him and the Twelve in the Red Room set backstage. The sign at the left bottom corner of my TV screen reminds me that this show is sponsored by Real Coke. I'm going to drink exclusively Pepsi from now on. He congratulates the Twelve on being what Randy Randy insisted through the show as the best Twelve ever. Everyone is happy and Sleazebag reminds them that the pressure is on. Gross Bowel, stop pressing yourself against Sleazebag's back. King Tut is watching you very closely. He asks the Twelve how they intend to deal with the pressures of the competition. How do they have fun? Gross Bowel says that he is scared of King Tut. Really, this guy's preoccuption with bashing King Tut is becoming too creepy. Either he wants to sleep with that man or he really wants to make the man's head bleed. Gross Bowel is still making stupid faces and hand gestures as Sleazebag turns to the camera and recaps the performances. He then announces the opening of the phone lines for the next two hours. "This was American Idol, the Top Twelve, and Seacrest - out!" he says.
King Tut in, Seacrest out. Okay, everybody out. We're done for now. This has been the longest two hours of my life.
The results show. As the Twelve stand on the stage, the Sexy Manly Voiceover Guy talks about the cold hard facts: someone has to go tonight. America, he asks, what have you done? By the way, Gross Bowel is wearing a cap today because his mother needs the hairpiece to strain the afternoon coffee.
Credits.
Ryan "I Melisma In Bed" Sleazebag is all in pink today, in keeping to this show's theme of Too Much Cute, See Me Puke. He wishes everyone Happy St Patrick's Day and says that everyone looks good today. Thank you, Sleazie. I got these chest implants just to make King Tut jealous. Sleazebag says that the fax has just come in and this show is cancelled. Oops, I wish. Sleazebag thanks everybody for making the episode last night the highest rated Tuesday show for Fox and also for the eighteen million votes that came in last night. But that's a darkside to the celebration, he says, as someone would be taking the Gary Coleman Express Train tonight to has-been ville. Ah, but can the loser be a has-been when he or she is never a somebody in the first place? Oh, and Kewpie is performing tonight, so Sleazebag welcomes the Claymates to the show. The Claymates cheer, because they are the only ones to whom "Claymate" is not a grievous insult of the first order.
Sleazebag introduces King Tut as the only person who loves to be on TV more than Sleazebag and Gross Bowel combined. Both men actually flash each other a wide and warm grin, so I guess things are happy in the Tutty household all over again. Team Hurt's visit must have done the trick. Gosh, I wonder how Gross Bowel really lost his hair piece. You know what, I don't think I want to know, forget I even wondered in the first place. Oh, and there's Miss Paula, and here's Randy "Yeah! Yeah!" Randy.
The Twelve are seated on green couches on two different levels to Sleazebag's left. He introduces them and recaps last night's performances. Because the results show is one hour long, he has to pad the episode with some inane chit-chat. Sleazebag again asks the judges how Rank Sinatra can be better. He did this during Group Four, doesn't he remember? Randy Randy gives the same response King Tut gave the last time - Rankie just has to get better; right now he's just a C-level Frank or Dean impersonator. J Hu talks about the pink outfit again. Huff Granddaddy insists that he has always had the moustache since he was born (really) and shaving it is an impulse, not because Sleazebag complained of stubble burns. Who started that nasty rumor, anyway? Sleazebag asks the Pen Salesman about him in a banana suit. The Pen Salesman just shrugs and says, "We'll see." I like how he really doesn't mind getting all corny on stage but he refuses to get corny with Sleazebag. I guess even a spastic monkey has its limits.
It's time for the usual product-placement video clip. J Hu plays a desk clerk. The clock at the back hits 7:05 am and that silly woman is apparently already fed up with her work so early in the day. She starts singing the first line of Fame. Gross Bowel is wearing a shirt and tie, fixing a photocopy machine when he too stops and follows J Hu's line with his own. The Pen Salesman is wearing a banana suit - there's an inside joke somewhere, I'm sure - and passing out fliers when he too sings. These three hop into separate Ford SUVs where each pick up the other contestants waiting at the roadside. Take a good look as these people may just as well end up in the industry they are depicted as working in once they realize that Hollywood eats the talentless and spits them out once it's bored with them. J Hu picks up Rank Sinatra (a gas attendent), Amy (she's wearing a hospital gown - must be the crackpot that has just escaped from the asylum), and Latoya (a businesswoman, I think). Gross Bowel picks up Fantasia (a chef), Camile (a waitress, what else?), and Di Guano (a carpenter, I think, as she's carrying a paintbrush). The Pen Salesman picks up Jasmine (looking like some airline ticketwoman), Huff Granddaddy (construction worker), and Tinkerbelle (um, a refugee from Bulgaria, I think). They all reach the AI studio where everyone gets out, poses, and jumps to Fame! except for Rank Sinatra, who just stands there and looks lost.
Then it's time for some group-singing. The guys pair off and duet the first few lines to Shake Your Tail Feather. Man oh man, Rankie and Gross Bowel's voice don't mix well. The Pen Salesman and Huff Granddaddy sound just a little better together. They do some stupid one-two-three "dance", where Rank Sinatra manages to remain one step behind the others. That guy really does not belong to the stage. Then it's Soul Man for the guys. The men are accompanied by Fantasia, off-stage, who obligingly screams "Come on boys!" or variations of that phrase at intervals throughout the men's performance. Then the women come out and blast out R-E-S-P-E-C-T like a choir of banshees. Jasmelisma, by the way, can really move on the stage like a pro, unlike fellow cute-ho Di Guano who looks surprisingly stiff and awkward. Amy is the female Rank Sinatra in that she can barely keep up and she also looks very out of place among the cute-ho pink princesses and ghettofabulous sistahs on stage. All then get together to blast out Everybody Needs Somebody. The whole performance is very average on the whole, just a bunch of voices singing together and nothing more.
I love how the Twelve pose for the end and then the show just forces them to keep posing until their bodies ache. Sleazebag asks people to take a good look at these Twelve as they are supposed to be the best, the dope, et cetera. And now it's time for the Twelve to show off the Mansion they will be living in for the duration of the Finals. It's a nice house. A big house, although the Pen Salesman tries to be nonchalant about it. Everyone mugs around, Huff horses around with Gross Bowel who pretends to be asleep, everyone dances in the lawn, and Our House plays in the background. Rank Sinatra finally gets a move done right and he's kinda adorable in a dorky way. But all in all, I've never seen so much affected camera-conscious cute-ho antics in such a brief montage.
Someone in the crowd holds up a sign proclaiming his or her love to Sleazebag. Eh, Sleazebag has fans? How sweet of King Tut to pay someone to hold up that sign! Sleazebag then talks to Jason Bateman in the front row and they both talk about Jason's new show - which, if his track record is anything to go by, will be cancelled soon enough. Then it's Kewpie.
Oh, Kewpie! I miss those lazy eyes and the smug pout. The original Cute Ho sings Solitaire, which is basically ten seconds of song and ten minutes of a single high note. I guess we know now who to blame for the whole "oversinging is good" nonsense. Uncle Les, watching this, must be having an orgasm that, for once, isn't induced by Viagra overdose.
When he's done, Sleazebag calls him over and says that the performance reminds Sleazebag of the old days. Kewpie says that he is no longer nervous when he has to perform. Thank you, Sleazebag, for teaching Kewpie what the true measure of a man is, haw haw! Sleazebag announces that Kewpie has sold 2.4 million CDs and the CD is certified triple platinum. He also reminds people that Kewpie is currently touring with Kelly Cluckson, a concert from which many amusing anecdotes of feuding fans behaving badly are currently coming from. The two chatter for a while, with Kewpie speaking so fast that he sounds like Daffy Duck on helium.
Sleazebag allows the Top Twelve to ask him questions. Gross Bowel's hand shoots up and he again talks about how he dreams of King Tut being mean to him. I think King Tut should get a restraining order on that weirdo just in case. He asks Kewpie how to cope with the pressures of being in the Top Twelve. Kewpie talks about focus and other nonsense. Easy for Kewpie to say - he could have read the phone book on stage last season and his fans would still vote for him. Gross Bowel should wish that he is that lucky. Fantasia asks about whether Kewpie's life has changed since his coming in second in American Idol. You do remember that Ruben won last season, don't you? I don't blame you if you don't. Watching this show tonight and the audience's reaction to Kewpie and comparing to Ruben's performance last week, anybody new to the show would assume that Kewpie won the whole thing. In fact, one can argue that Kewpie did win in the end. Anyway, back to the show, Kewpie gives the same old canned response about how he is recognized by fans and what not. Sleazebag sees right through Fantasia and comments that she's actually looking forward to being "inconvenienced by fame" like Kewpie. She laughs and agrees - yes, sir, she is!
Finally, the results. It's time for the moment of truth, Sleazebag says. Di Guano - safe. Latoya - safe. King Tut is shown playing with Miss Paula's hair. She doesn't seem to be aware of his actions. The Pen Salesman - safe. Everyone loves an idiot after all. Princess Tinkerbelle of Bulgaria - oops. Rank Sinatra - safe. King Tut seems to be sniffing Miss Paula's hair now. She still seems oblivious to his actions. That or she's pretending not to notice so as to not bite the bait King Tut is putting out. Fantasia - safe. Fantasia swivels her bum on the seat. Huff Granddaddy - safe. He presses his hand to his head. Run, Huff, run! Gross Bowel - safe. He calls out "Thank you!" to the audience and then spends ten seconds with his hands on his head in an overly dramatic attempt at mugging the camera. Jasmelisma - safe. King Tut has left Miss Paula alone. Amy - down you go! J Hu and Camile, the last ones left on the seat, exchange a look and J Hu shakes her head. They hold hands as Sleazebag recaps the judges' comments for each of their performances. Sleazebag tells them that one of them is in the Bottom Three, "perhaps out of the competition forever." Ouch! And then it's time for a commercial break. When the show returns, he marvels that the show has managed to find enough fillers to stretch itself up to an hour. I'm too numb to care and too tired of typing this recap, so let's just get this over with, shall we? J Hu gets the Seat of Shame while Camile is safe.
Sleazebag walks to the Seats of Shame and asks the three losers how they feel. J Hu says that it's a pleasure to be here. Amy says that she is just acting relaxed, she's actually very nervous. Tinkerbelle, like J Hu, says that it's good enough for her to have come this far on the show.
Randy Randy is shocked that J Hu is in the Bottom Three as she's one of the better contestants. Miss Paula however says that she's not that shocked as when she watched last night on TV, she thinks that J Hu doesn't engage the audience very well and the song selection isn't good. She says that Amy gave a safe performance while Tinkerbelle is capable of better. On the whole, she says that "this" (what is this "this" she is talking about?) is "tough" and she doesn't envy them. King Tut says that he is not surprised at the Bottom Three. J Hu, he says, chose the wrong song. Many of the contestants, even Latoya whom he pimped so heavily last night, were "very disappointing" when he watched them on TV.
Sleazebag announces that Amy is safe. Then he lets Tinkerbelle sing, and poor Tinkerbelle does. Her very shaky performance is forgivable this time as I can practically see in her face her worrying about her fate while she performs. Same with J Hu, who performs after Tinkerbelle. Her heart just isn't in it. Ironically, she sounds better now as she's no longer oversinging! Sleazebag commends the both of them as fantastic for singing under pressure. Why put them to it then in the first place? Oh, those sadistic producers! He reminds the two of them that there are no more Wildcard rounds, no more second chances, and to top off the unnecessary cruelty on his part, he makes Tinkerbelle announce the commercial break. The poor girl has never looked happier to get to stay on the show for another ten minutes.
"Ladies, good luck!" Sleazebag is caught telling them in a moment that is not meant for the camera when the show returns. He sounds genuinely considerate there while he is just being mean and petty to them before the break. Then again, in his current condition, mood swings are to expected. He then announces the person leaving tonight - Princess Tinkerbelle of Bulgaria! She starts crying as she embraces J Hu and blow kisses to the audience as everyone claps for her. Sleazebag tries to offer some comfort by reminding her that she beat thousands of people to reach where she is today. Princess Tinkerbelle thanks everyone in her life and Sleazebag chimes in his thanks to the judges, musicians, producers, and the audience. And then it's time for Tinkerbelle's eulogy video, where an American flag flies prominently while Tinkerbelle talks about living the American dream and loving music and wanting to remember her American Idol experience forever.
The credits roll as the others come out to hug and say goodbye to Tinkerbelle. King Tut, however, looks unconcerned as he listens to Randy Randy lecture him about something. Miss Paula looks around for her medicinal kit. And as the lights in the studio dim, Jabba the Castle is heard to say aloud, "Honey? Honey? Why do I have to sleep on my seat again? I want to go home. Honey? Anyone here?" But the show is over. See you people - and you Jabba the Castle - at the same place, same time - and in Jabba's case - same seat.