So this episode starts out exactly where we left off last week, with Brandi C. mourning the loss of her bestest friend in the whole wide world, Kristia, by pickling herself with all the booze she can get her callused little mitts on. It's rather funny. She slowly turns into Barney Gumble right before our eyes, complete with goggly eyes and slurred, incomprehensible speech. She stompily demands to see Bret and is shot down by Security Goon Big John. It's kind of reminiscent of college...clown college, but still college.
As this unfolds, another transformation is happening across the room—Rodeo is morphing into the Hulk! Veins bulge from her forehead and neck to the point that I start to fear an aneurysm and her face crumples into one of the ugliest cries you've ever seen. Her beef? She misses her son. Hulk smash! Bitchbot Hatchet Face sees this as an opportunity for Bret to see how weak Rodeo is and goes to get our fair prince, who promptly comforts the sobbing Lou Ferrigno. Wait a minute, when did Rodeo put on ripped purple pants? Weird...
After all this sadness, comes light, in the form of Bret, wearing a "More Cowbell" t-shirt, and summoning the girls with a harmonica. It's challenge time! This week, the tramps will be paired up to write new lyrics to a song from Bret's solo album. A bitchy British radio show host is brought in to help judge, and of course, teams are chosen for maximum personality clash fun.
Hatchet Face is teamed with Erin and her boobs, and as usual starts squawking about how she's got this one in the bag because SHE'S a real, live musician (even though her singing sounds exactly like Shannon Doherty's in that awesome made-for-TV psycho drama Friends 'til the End). Naturally, the only creativity Erin can offer is the variety in which she positions her boobs in tray-like bustiers, bras, tanks and like skankwear. In fact, she can't even tap a tambourine in time with Hatchet's screechy counting. Hatchet kindly offers to "dumb it back down for you" and it looks like Erin is the kid in choir who has to ping a triangle at the very end of the song because she can't do anything else.
Meanwhile, Jes and The Other Brandi drink, smoke and theorize that their devil-may-care attitudes are more rock n' roll than actual work. Mia is trapped in Rodeo's obsessive web of children and rainbows and the beach and all the other subjects she wants to include in their song, and Magdalena and Heather struggle to figure out what rhymes with "love." Seriously. Speaking of boobs, we then pay a visit to Sam, who is lucky enough to be giving Brandi C. a singing lesson. Her voice is that of a five-year-old singing "Jesus Loves Me" and her outfit makes her look like the rear admiral on the USS Assjacker. Wow, she's really got that whole porno thing down.
After two hours of hard, laborious work, the competition begins. Mia and Rodeo look into each other's eyes like they're karaoking "Almost Paradise", and Hatchet and Erin are predictably just as bad, with Hatchet once again all talk and no delivery and Erin looking like she's caught in the path of an oncoming train holding only a tambourine and a drumstick. The Other Brandi and Jes cutely rock out and scream "fuck" about 237 times, while Magdalena and Heather sound like the warm-up act at a RuPaul concert. Finally, Brandi C. tries to distract the judges from her Betty Boop-ish harmonizing with a raccoon mask of blue eye shadow and Amy Winehouse-lite rat's nest hair.
In the first shocking twist of the evening, Bret announces that they have a tie between Teams Mags/Heather and Sam/Brandi C. Rodeo immediately undergoes the Hulk transformation again, mumbling something bizarre about how kids love her and her cowboy hat. Brandi C. remarks she knows how it feels to miss a family member because she totally misses her cat. Aw, blow-up dolls have feelings, too? Who knew?
Anyway, that night Bret treats Mags/Heather to a sushi dinner and gives them each a guitar as a prize. Heather is mad that Mags continually brings up the fact that she's a stripper, however when they drunkenly stumble back in the house, she immediately rips off her top and starts giving everyone lap dances. It's totally too bad she's not an accountant or something because it would make a way better story in the long run. But methinks she won't lose her gig at the Eager Beaver for slutting it up on national television, so what does she care? Oh, and speaking of slutting up, Heather, Hatchet and Brandi C. manage to get Bret behind a closed door and thank god the cameras weren't there to catch the debauchery because I'm not sure my eyes can take another bleaching after last week's Hatchet Fest. The Other Brandi gawks at the scene from her precarious perch at the bar, where she is hunched over, drunkenly swaying in her seat, and looking like Crazy Guggenheim with implants. Her face says it all: no one knows what the fuck is going on, just in general.
The next morning, some of the girls are appalled by Bret's shocking display of alpha male-ism. How can Bret Michaels treat potential dates this way? Sam is especially disgusted and shares her opinion with Bret on their horseback-riding date. She's pretty much a goner, in my opinion, but Bret sucks her face off anyway. The other half of this winning team, Brandi C. is utterly stupefied by the horseback riding experience and exclaims that she loves how the horses smell, except when they are shitting, and even smells the guitar that Bret bestows on her at a post-ride picnic. Brandi C.: always utilizing all senses to get the full experience! Get it? Heh heh, ah, porn humor...it's just too easy.
Back at the house, everyone readies themselves to find out who gets VIP passes and who gets thrown off the stage. In the second shocking twist of the evening, Bret calls Rodeo down and eliminates her first so she can "go home to [her] little boy". He gives her his hat and then tearfully escorts her to the door. Dammit, now I feel bad for making fun. Bret cried! I need to toughen up if that's all it takes for me to have a heart. It shouldn't be much of a problem when he keeps Hatchet Face around week after week, even though she's all kinds of crazy and has a face like a meat pie. Sadly, the second elimination is our little girl-child Brandi C. Holy shit! What the hell is going on? Small-breasted good girls Sam, Mia and Jes are all part of the lucky final eight, along with enhanced baddies Heather, Erin, The Other Brandi, Mags and Hatchet. Hmmm, perhaps Bret really is looking for love and not just pussy? Time, and ratings, will tell.
In related news, Flavor of Love 3 is currently casting and VH1 has another season of Charm School in the works that will feature the RoL bitches. Please, god, let them mix these hos with some of the Flavor of Love girls. I demand a New York-Hatchet Face smackdown!