RoL8: Ripping off the bandaids

I've made no secret of my love of groupies on this blog; it's part of the reason why I heart RoL so frigging much. This week's show focuses on Bret's very own special gals—bandaids, if you will—and their opinions of the skeezers that are fighting for the heart of their main man. Do the girls know the name of Poison's drummer? How much do they really love Bret? And more importantly, just how far are they willing to go for him? You have no idea; oh, lord, do you have no idea...

Bret informs the Foxy (not sexy!) Five that this week he is putting them in a hot seat with some OTHER girls in his life. Immediately I think he's actually going to pimp his daughters out and blatantly expose them to HPV, but it turns out the girls in question are Bret's "superfans": Amy, Allison and Ky (who look like The Other Brandi, some Laguna Beach throwback, and porn star Tera Patrick's fat younger sister, respectively). They breeze into the Whore House with the wind machine blasting away in their faces and shoot bitchy looks at the quivering lineup of Aging, Strident Heather, The Other Brandi, Jes, Sam and Hatchet Face. The superfans are on hand to interview the skanks for the coveted job of being Bret's sperm receptacle. They slinkily pose against Bret like he's a pole and they're trying out for the Pussycat Dolls and pout. The skanks tremble. This is going to be good! Oh, and on-screen bios identify the superfans as Poison groupies of 10, 5 and 4 years. Weak! I, RockitQueen, have been a Poison groupie for over 20 years, fools! I guess that disqualifies me from the demographic of young, hot skanks that VH1 wants us to believe even know who Bret Michaels is. I'm getting the Gray Panthers on this immediately.

To set the mood, the skanks are sent outdoors to sit in the rain and wait to be called into the interrogation room. The Other Brandi is the first up and she identifies herself as an exotic dancer who is studying to be an interior designer/architect. One of the superfans snorts, "What are you going to design? Strip clubs?" and The Other Brandi gets steamed. No, seriously. She's steaming. SERIOUSLY. There is smoke pouring off of her head! Holy shit, her hair is seriously on fire! The bright florescent interrogation lamp is frying her already-fried blond wig! The superfans whisper about it, but say nothing to The Other Brandi, who suddenly jumps, howls and pats out the bonfire that's erupted on her head. Suddenly, Smokey the Bear steps out from behind the curtain and intones, "Only you can prevent forest fires, skank." The Other Brandi skulks away, embarrassed and demoralized by Bret's fuckbuddies, and Smokey the Bear gives a devil horns hand gesture and sneaks off upstairs with ASHeather for a quickie.

Up next is sensitive Sam, who immediately becomes rattled by the superfans. She looks so vulnerable with the harsh lighting blasting in her sad little face. When one of the superfans asks her to demonstrate her best fake orgasm, Sam declares that she simply can't—it's too personal. When she leaves the room, she begins sobbing with black mascara tears running down her face. Poor little Sam! Personally, I'm glad she didn't do it to win. Perhaps our girl Sam has a little integrity?

Victim #3 is my girl Jes, who winds up being grace under pressure. Jes reveals that she's had her lips "done" and even smooches Ky upon request. One of the superfans remarks that Jes "obviously" doesn't have a boob job, to which Jes later interviews: "Yeah, like I'd get 'em this fuckin' small!" I'm thinking Jes has it in the bag yet again, until ASHeather appears wearing a tie-front bra top and a pink bandanna over her horrifying crimped hair. She wins over the superfans by telling them she wouldn't doubt if Bret fucked any of them because they are all hot and she'd probably fuck them too, if she were him. Ah, nothing like fake-o lesbianism to win over skanks who are trying to win over rock stars...

Finally, the interview we are waiting for: Hatchet! Per usual, she strides in confidently and voice-overs that she is the queen of intimidation. Yes! History proves that big talk leads to huge smackdowns, and the superfans deliver by making fun of her horrific rendition of "Every Rose" and forcing her to admit she sees a therapist and takes meds. Whoa...say what?? Hatchet is medicated? This is the most shocking thing I've heard since the surprising announcement of Nicole Richie's pregnancy. In other words, no duh—she's the fucking poster child for Xanax! Or maybe lithium. What's more potent than that? Hatchet needs the heavy-duties. Ketamine? Thorazine? Tylenol PM?

Anyway, after the interviews, the superfans join the whores for some food and fun and it turns out the tough interrogations were just an act and these groupies are actually cool. Hatchet pretty much knows she blew it and commences kissing ass immediately by bringing the superfans cutlery and loading them up with drinks. One of the superfans informs Jes that she looks awesome with a flat chest "like Gwen Stefani" and that she shouldn't change a thing. I agree, but it's totally backhanded and easy to say from someone who's cups spilleth over. Whatevs, bitches. While all this "fun" is going on, Sam is once again in her room and contemplating leaving this debaucherous situation because she doesn't feel she can handle it. Come on; we all know it's hit her that she's on a reality show to win the affections of Bret Michaels and she's horrified. And who can blame her?

Bret meets with the superfans to get their opinions on the whores. They say they'll be best friends with Sam and that they want Hatchet's head on a stick. In the end, it comes down to Jes and ASHeather, with ASHeather for the win and the solo Bret Date. She executes a sad cartwheel and Bret instantly whisks her away, still dressed in her slutty top and do-rag. Don't worry; she doesn't seem to have any intention to change anyway.

This is where we get to the part about what the girls are willing to do for Bret. ASHeather announces that she wants to get a tattoo and the limo conveniently pulls up to a parlor that is open and will allow cameras in and also doesn't seem to have any other customers. Hmmm, weird. Anyway, ASHeather professes to Bret that she's going to get his name tattooed on the back of her neck. While the viewing audience recoils in horror and balls across the nation shrink up, Bret says he's all for it and holds her hand while the inker gets busy. Oh, also, this is ASHeather's first tattoo. Ever. Yikes. The best part of the show comes when the brilliant editors make a circle of floating Bret heads fly around ASHeather repeating "For life! For life!" Per usual, getting tattoos is a turn-on according to Bret, so I guess that makes it all worth it in the end.

Back at Casa de Puta, the superfans announce to The Other Brandi and Hatchet that they have deemed them the bottom two and pressure them to make cases for themselves. Believe it or not, Hatchet starts to cry! And by cry, I mean rub at her eyes in an attempt to create some moisture and speak in a quavery voice. Crocodiles could not have done it better. Jes' impression of this sad display is pictured above. At eliminiation, the fakery continues with Hatchet looking her sad-sackiest and sobbing tears of relief when she is chosen over Sam to stay in the house. Sam takes it in stride and proceeds to palm Bret's head like a basketball and practically swallow his noggin whole before exiting the Whore House. She interviews that she wanted to go out "guns a-blazin'", and it looks as if Bret may have been shot through the heart when he looks up to see who remains as the Fabulous Four.

Next week: everyone bathes in booze and puke in Vegas!! Holy god, I can't wait!