In this episode, Erin learns a very important lesson…
Whatever that means!
Again, we pick up exactly where we left off last time, post-elimination. This show is soooo serial.
Serial or cyclical? Hard to say really. Hey look, everyone, Brandi M. (heretofore just called Brandi since differentiation is no longer needed now that Brandi C.’s gone and I’m really sick of fretting over the periods that follow their initials) is drunk again!
Like really drunk.
That circled area? Dribble. You know that if Bret didn’t go to bed early that night, this would totally turn him on.
Brandi gets on the other girls’ nerves before crashing and waking up to:
OMG, do it! Do it, if for nothing else, than to later hold a science experiment involving the removal of vomit from bleached hair.
No such luck, but there are clothes for the girls waiting downstairs.
Oooh! And they’re pink!
There is also Bret Mail:
As you know, Bret loves to start sentences with a bang. Also, dig the double entendre of “go long” — if football weren’t homoerotic enough for you, Bret Michaels will drive that point home. So to speak of course. Anyway, the girls today will play football, we find out as Brandi reads the Bret Mail:
So, she opted not to throw up on the other girls, but herself. Oh wait. No she didn’t.
The teams will be:
Brandi resolves to do her best, despite the state of her liver (the following words are hers):
That’s the spirit! Spoken like a true Celebreality hero.
The girls are shipped to a muddy-ass football field.
Brandi’s resolve wanes slightly:
You know inside of her, those electrolytes are going “Wham! Pow! Biff!” to her hangover. Hang in there, Batgirl.
Bret explains that he’ll be quarterback for both teams.
If I knew anything about football, I’d have a smart-assed protest to go along with this. I do not and so I will not. You win this time, Michaels!
Bret tells the camera that he wants a girl who loves football. It’s official: Bret wants the most dude-ish girl possible. You know next week, he’s going to start a sentence like, “As you know, a nice set of balls is key…” Kidding! Although you know just then Magdalena’s ears perked up. Cocktail
party panty syndrome.
Also helping out will be this guy:
But he seriously doesn’t do anything. Well maybe he does. Who can pay attention to anything but the girls, who slide and fumble into Tantric sex position after Tantric sex position:
On the last shot, Sam says, “I attempted to tackle, but I kind of ended up giving Magdalena a really big hug.” Awwww. Except, not really, for a hug isn’t a hug on the football field unless it’s punctuated with a butt slap. Try again, Sam.
And then: magic. It all starts when Lacey says to the camera…
“You know what, I want that date, damn it. If I have to break some girl’s wrist or knock out some teeth, I’m gonna do it.” Does PETA actually stand for “People for the Elimination of T**s and Ass?”
And then, instead of knocking, Lacey gets knocked by Jes.
Ah, sports-related irony. Sam is ecstatic:
“Jes comes around and nails her and she’s out! Yes! Oh wait, but she’s still on my team. Whatever. Who cares. F*** her.” That, people, is what you call altruism. Whether Sam ends up rocking Bret’s world, can you honestly say that she hasn’t rocked yours, at least once?
Lacey’s injury kicks her out of the game, which means someone on the Sweethearts must take the bench. Since Brandi’s hung over, she’s elected to sit out.
Don’t worry, Brandi. Your puke will keep you company. It probably has more to say than Mia, at least.
Meanwhile, on the field, Bret notices that Jes is awesome (beyond the whole injuring Lacey thing):
It’s all in the clavicle. Sorry: clavical.
Heather is also pretty bad-ass (is anyone surprised?):
For anyone else, losing one’s pants and not letting that affect the game would be a great sign of commitment. For Heather, it’s just another day at the office.
Basically, it comes down to a tie and the final showdown is between Jes and Heather, the only two people on the field who know what the hell they’re doing. Who will win? Is the suspense killing you? Don’t let it:
The Sweethearts take it, thanks to yet another touchdown from Jes.
Jes is named MVP, which means she gets to wear Bret’s jacket (he has a jacket?):
She also gets a very special solo date with Bret tonight. If they don’t end up drinking out of the same milkshake with each their own straw, I’m going to feel really cheated.
The girls make their way home. Brandi says they are a “bunch of broken bitches.” Girl, I know way too much about your soul.
Erin talks on the phone…
Josh informs her that “the guy that sings ‘Bringin’ SexyBack’” is going to be in the restaurant she works at tomorrow. Ugh, does he really not know that the song is called “SexyBack” and that the singer is Justin Timberlake? Anyway, Erin’s all “Shut up!” because what else do you say when you find out that Justin Timberlake’s going to be at your place of employment?
Lacey and Heather catch wind of this and they’re all, “Ugh,” because what else do you say when someone drools over teenybopper Timberlake in a house of rock? Heather resolves to write a letter to Bret “exposing” the other girls. She actually uses the word “exposing,” and she’s not talking about pantsing them by the pool. Who says that? What is she, Cindy Adams?
“Get the hell out of here and go hang out with Justin Timberlake, you starf***er!” says Heather, who, it bears reminding, may or may not have had a foursome with Bret Michaels last episode. Seriously: isn’t starf***ing the goal of this show?
Meanwhile, Jes and Bret have their date. Jes is so pretty.
Seriously, she is sooooooooooooooooooooo pretty!!!!
Her whole little-big hair thing that she normally does has obviously worked for her so far and it’s her signature, but damn, it’s amazing how giving the hairspray the night off can really open up your face.
On this very special date, Jes arrives separately from Bret to an empty stage. Bret comes out and says, “I wrote a beautiful song and I want to play it for you.” Pat yourself on the back of the guitar, why don’t you, Bret? Bret reasons, “I pretty much suck at dating, but what I do know how to do is music.” Actually Bret, you rock at dating. I’d rather watch you date than anyone else. Please stop putting yourself down. Seriously.
Anyway, Bret’s song is called “All I Ever Needed.” It’s sweet.
Bret explains that Jes still has that wall up and that he’s all about bringing it down. He’s soothing the beast with music, if you will.
And then, he and Jes dine.
We learn that Bret wrote “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” over a broken heart. I thought he wrote it over rice. Kidding. That song really is beautiful and moving, as we learned last week. And also, 16 years ago. We also learn that Jes has never been in love. Oooh! First time! As long as we don’t have to listen to her impression of a “dirty nanny,” I think we can handle it. At some point Bret and Jes share an open-mouth kiss.
Is there any other kind? Anyway, it would seem that the wall is coming down. Explosions!
The good times don’t last for long. The next day Bret receives Heather’s note and becomes as furious as a duuuude with a bandana gets (which is to say: not very). He calls Heather into his room and she’s all scared that she’s in trouble.
But she isn’t. Bret believes her story and commences to gossip about Erin with Heather. It’s a shame Heather didn’t bring her hairspray and teasing comb in. They could have played beauty parlor while they were at it. “Erin, first of all, I think she still has a boyfriend,” says Bret. Really? Unless something happened that we haven’t been privy too, this seems kind of ridiculous — that notion came from Heather playing scissor-fetish with the truth and Erin already set the record straight like three episodes ago.
Bret goes on.
“Like, I can hear, like, frickin’ Justin Timberlake was gonna be in her restaurant eating and I’m here. And I’m like, ‘Waita minute. You’re trapped here?’” Ha. All the Timberhate on this episode is pretty awesome. He is so not rock. He is the Misfits to Bret’s Jem in this house of rock.
The next day, it’s time for the batch dating that is rightfully Brandi, Mia and Magdalena’s. The Bret Mail basically spells out what they’ll be doing: going to a shooting rage. This thrills Brandi.
While they prepare, Lacey and Heather get all slimy with Erin by the pool, attempting to get her to say…something that they might be able to use against her later.
Erin admits that she likes jock types. This concludes your daily dose of shock and excitement.
Meanwhile in the car, Bret gossips about Heather with the other girls.
You ever notice how much gossiping goes on in the limo? Well, you know what they say: if these lips are flappin’, don’t come a-rappin’.
They hit the shooting range.
Mia sucks, Brandi has potential and Magdalena is savant-like. The end.
The place they eat lunch is covered in taxidermy. It is Lacey’s nightmare in room form.
Kinda makes you root for her retroactively, no?
Meanwhile, back at home Lacey and Heather are still yapping about Erin.
They’re really mean, aren’t they? Like extraordinarily. Erin hears all this and walks in the room when it’s least convenient for them. Go Erin. Without doing very much you’ve moved to my favorites list. Funny how that works.
Erin’s entry throws them off entirely. Here’s what Heather tries to pass off as a save:
Now you know she’s lying, because seriously, whose hair looks more fun than Heather’s?
When Brandi and Mia return from their date with Bret, they and Jes confront Heather about her exposure.
It’s kind of crazy because Heather usually carries herself as a total bad-ass, but then when she’s confronted, she falls to pieces one stammer at a time. Her strut becomes a stutter. And you’d think she’d thrive on confrontation, too. These girls are emotionally complex! Anyway, she basically tells them that she didn’t say anything about them (yeah) and that the note concerned her and her shame for being topless so much (right!). Brandi kinda winks at the camera during an interview and in response says, “There’s no way Heather’s writing a book about her life. What is she writing? Stripper Diaries? Please.” Actually, that sounds kinda good. Could you please write that, Heather?
While Lacey decides to go defend Heather to Bret…
…the other girls catch Erin up to Heather’s burn book. It’s sort of awesome that the girl named “Heather” rules the school, isn’t it?
Brandi suggests that Erin confront Heather and Erin does. Wow. What’s amazing is not just that everyone in this house has a plan for manipulating the situation at hand, but that the next person seems absolutely eager to jump in the last person’s trap. It’s seriously like a chain that’s just soooo proud to be a chain.
Erin and Heather bicker. Heather tells Erin, “You’re not here for him!” Gee, where have I heard that before. Oh yeah: VH1. Like a million times. And that’s to say nothing of the reruns. Erin ends up going to Bret’s room in an attempt to clear the air, but he won’t even let her in.
Yo, Erin’s getting a bum deal, for real. Everyone else is allowed to plead their case and Bret more or less tells her to go away. He’s really bruised about the Timberlake thing. When Bret returns to Lacey, no less, she says, “You’re popular tonight!” In response, Bret deadpans, “Mmm. Well, they know I’m pissed.” Ha! I’m glad he’s taking this as seriously as the rest of us. We’re all in this together!
But not for long. Eliminations loom.
As does the smell of hairspray. If Erin’s hair “looks fun,” Heather’s looks like a kegger. She went to a party last Saturday night…and what happened is unprintable on a family blog.
Unsurprisingly, Jes is called first. Surprisingly, Mia is called second.
Not that she isn’t pretty or seemingly pleasant, but really, why is Mia kicking ass so majorly? Guess you have to be there?
When Bret calls Lacey to get her pass, he makes note of her “crazy eyes.” Judging by Lacey’s response, she’s awfully proud of them.
“Will you stay in this house, not kill me in my sleep and rock my world?” asks Bret. God, the man is amazing.
The Bottom 2 comes down to Heather and Erin. Here’s another shot of Heather and her hair because I know you’re dying for it:
Bret goes with his gut and sticks with Heather. Here’s Erin’s immediate response:
She’s less than bummed because, as she says, “I have plenty of men that are waiting for me back in Chicago.” I think maybe she’s taking solace in the fact that Tiffany’s back in Chicago, too. At least, I would.
For her final trick, Erin says, “I have had bigger and better stars than Bret Michaels.” So she’s a serial groupie? Above the stripper/whore level, indeed. Erin leaves a woman of her word.