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I couldn’t erase this from my DVR fast enough. And it wasn’t just because I have this weird, satisfied feeling of accomplishment when I “clean off” my DVR (although I do. It’s as good as cleaning out your fridge. Seeing the empty shelves where old, weird, jelly once stood makes you feel very accomplished. And hungry. Really, really hungry.) And it's not because my DVR was at 99% (even though it was), or because I just couldn’t let go of Terminator 2. (Because I can’t! When will they ever play Arnold again?? Freakin’ cable democrats! <--I kid. I love Arnold, democrats, and soft, spreadable cheese. Which….apparently I’ve just thrown out. Crap.). The point is, I don’t know if it was my mood or my sudden lack of access to dairy, but I thought this episode partially bit, and I don’t at ALL think it was the comedians’ fault. Completely. Who’s fault was it? Dat Phan. I don’t know why, it just is. Also, you can’t blame God for it. He doesn’t know why this show SUCKED GIANT DONKEY BONGS EITHER. Okay, His Holiness didn’t say “sucked donkey bongs”. He said, “and unto thee, the production value of this show doth sucketh from the olive groves of Hoheeba to the quaint farmer’s markets in Galilee, where I will be appearing today, at noon, in a bowl of hummus, along with Einstein, Lincoln, and the inventor of Chia Head™.. Yeah, don’t know how he got in there either. No more mead for the Big Guy!”

Anyhow: The theory on it’s suckatude? Producers! And editors. Let’s use this as a segue to point out the very first flaw of the show tonight, made evident during their trip to and boarding of the Queen Mary, which is how our show begins.....

So, as mentioned one sentence above, all the comics get on a short bus to the Queen Mary. (Leaving out “short-bus” jokes simply because you’re expecting them, aren’t you? Ha! I can read minds. And you all sicken me. ) There is much uneventful arguing taking place while we see piles of footage of Rebecca, sprawling her limber little legs all over the bus seat like an adorable, slightly crazy little Gumby. Stella just sits there, pregnant. <--pay attention to this. End scene.

Fade in to big ship. It’s the Queen Mary. And instead of hoppin’ waves and flying over waterski jumps like normal luxury ocean liners, the Queen M just sits there. Lazily. Understandably, the comedians, and Anthony Clark, all must go to it. They do. The reactions can all be summarized into this sentence: it’s shippy. And super!

Anthony Clark let’s them know the scoop for the entire season. Each week there will be weird challenges meant to amuse or alarm us, or at the very least, make the comics feel dead inside. So at least they’ve got that goin’ for them. After the comedians compete in these challenges in the name of IMODIUM AD, thank you, they’ll have a final challenge of 3, all designed to pit comic against comic against comic, prison-yard style until one of them dies. On stage. After there are only six people left, “America” will vote to make one person the Last Comic Standing. (“America” = .04% us, 97% producers, and 2.06% text-messaging, myspace preteens.)

Next up, roommate assignments, and the first foray into why this show’s editing BLOWS. First, Big-man Gabriel carries Josh Blue over the threshold of their room, and which doesn’t phase Josh until he spies the squished-together twin beds and questions, “what the *#$% is expected to happen HERE?” The answer:ratings. Gabe just holds Josh closer and giggles more wildly. Forshadowing? If we’re lucky! Woot!

Secondly, we see Roz and Stella walk into their room. And here’s that first bit of editing suckwadage. Um...Roz sees she has Stella as a roomie and says she’d rather sleep on a ROCK than be in the room with Stella’s white ass. This is what I had to say about that: ???? <--that actually appeared over my head in my living room. As punctuation often does. Why, Roz, WHY? We don’t know. THE EDITORS AND PRODUCERS NEVER SHOW US. So, the rest of the show is littered with beyatch-bombs aimed at Stella, beyatch-bombs with no real supporting footage showing Stella going all ninja on their asses. There are no crazy-wench ANTM outbursts. No one turns into Shayne ala Survivor fame (who yes, I considered to be a beyatch. A petite, crazy, beyatch-monkey-boy). Now, I personally find Stella’s stand-up to be just shy of C-SPAN parliament footage as far as entertainment value is concerned. But is she a beyatch? Really? I mean, based on THIS editing, my beyatch-o-meter seems to be buzzin’ and whirlin’ right over Roz’s head. Later, it lights up like an apesh** slot machine.

We don’t get to see anyone else’s roommate “action”. Why? Far too graphic. Which makes it sting that much more! *bursts into tears* But no need for me to cry, as they’ve replaced graphic comic-on-comic-on-comic hot oily love action with a BORING DINNER SCENE! Woooooo! Joey Gay and many others spend much of this footage talking about sizing up the competition, and they don’t even do it in an interesting way. There are a lot of “yeah, I’m gonna beat him” and “I think I’m funnier than her’s” but no, “I’m gonna take his head and jam it into my wine glass, then call his mom, take her out to a fancy dinner, give her a kiss good night and then NEVER CALL HER AGAIN! Buwahahahahaha!” No original plotting. The one happening: apparently Stella says something annoying over dinner. The thing is, I missed it. I had to be informed of this giant, one sentence “earthquake” by a friend, because being that I was writing the recap of this show, *I* certainly wasn’t paying attention. But it couldn’t have been too huge, as I never saw a squished, enraged face as I whizzed past this scene with my hand pressed firmly on the FF button. FF stands for “Freakin’ Fast”, as I have a DVR, NOT Tivo, and let me just say THIS to all you Tivo users: In...your...FACE!! DVR has four fast forwards, count ‘em. F-O-U-R. That’s two, plus one, and then ONE MORE ON TOP OF THAT. And what do you have? Three. I’m soooo much faster than you! Ha! (Wait..that didn’t come out right...) The scene ends with Kristen telling everyone they’re good eggs, while Bil toasts to Stella being a bitch. Note to Bil: where’s your second l? Where? Is this some kind of Jedi mind trick, designed to get us to remember your name? Because it works. Score one for Mr. The-second-l-is-silent.

Heckle Me Once, Shame on You, Heckle Me Twice, I don’t know...whatever

The card-spittin’ gypsy lady is back again to order the comics around, like all animatronic machines are wont to do. Her card detailing the challenge this time contains a Frost-style poem:
Boo me once, shame on you
Boo me twice, it’s gonna get ugly.


The comics are whisked from this scene into Anthony’s awaiting arms at a tiny little theater. The challenge: a heckle-a-thon! Everyone’s to be split into teams of two, Ark style; one to play the angry drunk in the audience, the other to play the angry drunk on stage. After five minutes, they switch places, so that EVERYBODY gets a chance to destroy someone else’s dream. It’s a very Disney moment. The goal: either wow the audience with your bad hecklin’ mo jo, or make them laugh on stage and stun your heckler into a respectful silence. In the end, the audience will pick the best Heckler and the best performer. Both will win immunity, join hands, and lead everyone in Bible songs.

The teams are drawn from a rubber chicken, just to make it all that much more hilarious and entertaining. Does it work? Tell me when violating plastic farm animals ISN’T a good idea? BAM, off to the stage they go!

First team: Josh Blue and Chris Porter. Let me just say that the both of them: hilarious! They’re the best little team EVAH! Which is why the camera dances across their little, joyous faces the MOST. The highlights: Josh performs first, talks about falling down in childhood. Chris heckles in that he must have gotten a lot of concussions. Josh says his mom must be proud. Chris says, “yeah your mom is proud, of ME, and what I did last night.” Josh answers back that his mom is dead, and that Chris is a sick bastard, later he tells another mom joke and Chris yells, “I thought your mom was dead! You’re a liar!” Back and forth and back and forth until Josh deems this the worst make-a-wish EVER. When Chris performs he talks of birth control patches and Josh asks if his legs go all the way up to his vagina. Chris, with perfect timing: “no, but they go all the way up to your sister’s.” Josh doesn’t miss a bit: “My sister’s dead!” and Chris, “No, she just doesn’t call you anymore.” One, two, one, two, it goes, and we’re all whipped into a joyous ecstasy of being entertained for the first time tonight. Yay!

Second team: Kristen Key, who sarcastically pipes in that her favorite thing ever is hurting people, and Michelle, the older woman from New York. Kristen slams Michelle for having the nerve to age, while Michelle slams Kristen for having the nerve to be born an A-cup. It’s all very warm and cuddly, and in the end, I shudder at most of the comments.

Third team: April Macie and Joey Gray. While April performs her schtick, Joey just sits there. He does nothing. Says nothing. His eyes just bore into her, stalker-style. Yet...polite. He tells the dudes he don’t play that game. April, however, DOES. Despite her surprise as the lack of Joey hate, she decides to tear him a new Joey-hole as soon as he hits the stage. Joey will soon return the favor.

Fourth team: Gabriel Iglesias and Bil Dwyer. Bil’s hilarious on stage. Really. You should have seen it. Except when he’s heckling. Gabriel’s form of heckling consists of giggling in the same manner he did while carrying Josh back to their love lair. Bil just shows his softer side by laying into Gabe’s weight. Next!

Fifth team: Stella and Todd Barnett. They show about 4.2 seconds of their act. In fact, I think it was over in the time it took to type this sentence. Next!

Sixth team: Rebecca Cory and Roz. Rebecca’s idea of heckling is to yell out random, encouraging, puzzling replies with the wrong comic’s name. Roz’s idea of heckling, and comedy, is to repeatedly call Rebecca a bitch and tell her to shut the %#@#% up. Very Joe Pesci. And also, a little like Ghandi.

And the audience picks: Chris Porter! Best performer! Yayyy! The best heckler: Roz??? Huh? Apparently the audience likes the Joe Pesci school of comedy: i.e. the %@#% this and $@#!% that show. They’re both immune, while Kristen frets over the fact that she missed winning it by one vote. One vote! Sucks to be her.

Back on the boat Roz and Stella fight like two fourteen-year-old boys. I.e. the ol’ “who-has-the-flatulance” game. The editing, again, makes this seem anticlimactic. Odd, especially since flatulence fights USUALLY rock the world (pun not intended.) With no supporting footage, everyone again, leaps all over Stella with the beyatch-bomb. I don’t question it anymore. I just pop open a diet rite soda and whisper, “Fiiisher” when it hisses.

I’m Funnier than Ant, too

This season, all the votin’ will happen in the Boiler room. No doubt the producers believe that a change of setting means we’ll be distracted from the utter lack of content! Yes! If we have just enough “crayyzay” settings, we’ll forget that the producers never edit in witty, comedic banter. As usual, all comics must hop in a little photo booth and name one person they believe to be less funny than they are. The person with the most votes gets to select two challengers. The “winner” with the most votes can ONLY challenge those that have voted for him.

The votes:
Roz: Stella
Chris: Michelle, but says he SHOULD vote for Stella
Bil: “I know I’m funnier than Ant. And Michelle, and Ant.” Ha! I giggle, despite his punk, one-l name.
Ty: Michelle
Rebecca: “I know I’m funnier than...Bil?” she says, making all laugh and showing us all the first sign of strategery in this game. If she picks someone unlikely to “lose”, she can avoid competing on stage for a wee!
Michelle: Stella
Stella: April
Josh: Stella
Kristen: Michelle
April: Michelle
Joey: April, whom he then threatens physically, saying he’ll mop the floor with her. His rage over her lack of refrain in the heckling challenge makes his face contort in rage. It is purple. It is pointy. And I’m scared. April, more so.
Gabriel: He decides the only fair thing to do is toss names in a hat. He does, and gets the bendy Rebecca.

In the end, a tie! Stella and Michelle must pick a third, and after some staged, uncomfortable whispering, both select...April!

I’m too Hot to be Funny too

The night of the challenge, April let’s us know that she’s A. totally hot, and B. taking Stella and Michelle’s heads and stuffing them down their own thoraxes. Or just that she’ll beat them. I don’t remember. I’M VERY TIRED. Good thing I have that whole hot thing.

Stella’s just excited to perform, Michelle’s all nervous to lose, and April wants to shoot herself in the face to appear more hilarious, as face wounds often do. Awesome.

Stella’s up first and makes it clear that this show is produced by crack smokers. See, she was apparently picked to live on the ship because she’s all “controversial” what with all the hate directed her way. But as we never see enough of WHY she’s hated, all we’re left with is her crappy stand-up act. Did I mention it was crappy? Did I? Because it SO WAS. I give you no jokes, to spare you the pain. While she gives her serious dissertation, they keep showing actual, LIVE humans in the audience. Laughing. Laughing! I can’t help but think they’ve spliced in these images from an old Three’s Company audience.

Michelle, however, actually makes me laugh! Is she the BEST comic EVAH? No. But is she good enough to beat Stella AND April? Maybe! Her bits surround Starbucks, Survivor, and nailclippers, and finishes with a bit about a drunk pilot who directs them all to watch him urinate outside the windows on the left. See, even without the delivery, you can’t but help to laugh! Because what’s funnier than public urination? I suggest: nothing.

April’s up last, and talks about friends and weddings and friend’s weddings. She runs off with her pre-performed joke about popping out of hoochie clothes in the same manner as pop-n’-fresh biscuits, and finishes again with the fact that all women know the wiener size of their female friends’ man-ho’s. On every single couch in America, men turn to their wives/girlfriends and say, “is that true?” The unison is deafening.

Annnd the audience votes! First person gone is...Stella! Yayy! And the Capitol One audience favorite is: Michelle Balan! April Macie goes home, April Macie goes HOME! Woot!

Stella says she’ll be glad to see her kid again and knows her absence equates to sunshine on the Queen Mary lido deck. April says she’s glad she wasn’t the very first person to go home, and tells us all not to underestimate women, because “we’re just as damaged as men.”

Next Tuesday is billed as the “night of temptation” where the comics “question who they are and what they’ve become.” This apparently means a lot of interaction with a bunch of belly-dancing snake handlers, and not the religious kind. Who will escape ALIVE??? <--overhype. Stay tuned.

NOT violating rubber poultry. Anymore. shazzer@fansofrealitytv.com