I Love Money Recap – Episode 5 – Cry, Cry Again


These two aren’t a licensed comedic team…

…they just play one in our minds.

We begin exactly where we left off, which wouldn’t be exciting at all except that we get a fleeting shot of Heather totally adjusting her boobs as everyone retreats from elimination.

That one always has her eyes on the prize. And speaking of which, I Love Tatters would make the perfect spin-off of a spin-off of many spin-offs of a spin-off of a spin-off, no? Because if there’s one thing people love as much as money, it’s tatters.

Then, there is scheming.

In what would seem like an offshoot (or a spin-off, if you will) of the pre-elimination discussion 12 Pack had with his team last week, in which everyone wanted Destiney out and he was like, “Uh, yeah, no,” Toasteee, Pumkin and Hoopz talk to Real, Whiteboy and other members of the Green Team. Basically, everyone wants Destiney out of there because they ultimately want the Entertainer out of there. Why this is beyond the obvious lechery isn’t specified. And, you know, the Entertainer can’t be all bad. For moments later, we see him snuggling with Destiney and reporting…

You really know you like a girl when you have to fart and you hold it in.” See? He’s a good guy. Considerate and able to articulate the pain of love succinctly. That feeling in your heart? It’s gas.

We also are treated to a shot of Heather and 12 Pack intertwined.

You know, all the (probable) ass-tattoos and nuzzling are making this show into something like a live-action version of My Little Pony. It’s oddly wholesome.

It’s time for the challenge announcement. Everyone get out their hearing aids!

Toasteee will be captain of the Gold Team, while Real takes on that responsibility for the Greenies. To indoctrinate him, Brandi gives him the captain’s hat.

Real voices concern that because this hat belonged to Mr. Boston, it may have lice. Of all the possible things to contract in that house, lice is probably among the least worrisome. Again: wholesome.

12 Pack notices that Hoopz is acting pissy, so he confronts her about it, but gets nowhere. She’s about as emotionally available as a backboard. During this exchange, it’s notable that 12 Pack, from a certain angle, looks exactly like John Travolta.

Could Scientology be so far off? Move over Heather and Destiney, 12 Pack’s gunning for an alliance with Xenu!

The groups are carted to the location of their challenge, which is announced by C.J. as “The Crying Game.” Don’t get excited. We won’t be diving into the pants of anyone to find out what’s really going on. Mysteries of gender and sexuality will remain mysteries. Sadly! But on the bright side, the challenge is kind of awesome. Each member of each team (except for Hoopz, who sits out to even out the number of people participating) must make himself or herself cry using various tools…

…like onion…

…a cigar…

…cayenne pepper…

…hot sauce…

…and a pair of tweezers (for plucking nosehair). Not pictured: the contestants’ senses of shame. But it does come into play! One member of each team must elect to use nothing for their attempts to cry. The reliably hysterical Rodeo volunteers for the Gold Team, while Brandi C., decides to be the one to try for the Green Team.

Oh, and the tear must cross a makeshift mustache drawn on these people’s faces…

As if crying for our entertainment isn’t humiliating enough, these people get drawn on. Quick, someone tape Megan’s butt cheeks together and knock that dignity out of the park!

The games begin.

Due to what can only be described as seasoning affect, Pumkin is the first to cry.

She explains: “I have no idea what cayenne pepper is, so I figure I’ll just rub it all in my eyes.” That is a truly wonderful way to process any foreign substance. The continued existence of chemists shows that we don’t place enough emphasis on the importance of rubbing of things into eyes, as a society. Except, of course, that sometimes when you put things in your eye, it hurts. Yeah, there’s that. Pumkin learns this the hard way, when her eyes threatened to leap from her face after her mistreatment.

Don’t ever put cayenne pepper in your eye,” reports Pumkin as a result of her experience. What a worthy PSA. Next week, we’ll be warned against those impulses to flood our lungs with water. I loooooove education!

Then cries Heather.

Then the Entertainer. Then Chance, who reports, “Gangsta down.” Where? What gangsta? And what does that have to do with Chance crying?

Then, a completely possessed-looking 12 Pack.

Then Toasteee…

How does she achieve this tear, you ask? The oldest method in the book.

I mean, really. The book has never been too woman-friendly, you know?

And so, everyone on the Gold Team except for Rodeo has cried at this point. What follows is awesomeness.

Heather pulls at the heartstrings as though Rodeo is an emotional marionette.

Heh. Heather’s never met a situation she couldn’t triumph over with her superior agitating skills.

Megan cries, which is, like, amazing.

Now she just needs to close her eyes and wish real hard and she, too, will be a real girl!

And so, the Green Team is catching up with the Yellow. Desperate times call for…

…the manual manipulation of tears. If 12 Pack could fit his finger into her tear duct and extract liquid manually, he would.

Meanwhile, Brandi’s having a hard time. Megan tries to pull a 12 Pack…

…put she’s so blasé that she can’t even put passion into her slapping. Use the opportunity for catharsis, girl!

Brandi decides to gag herself, reasoning that this always produces tears…

I can’t believe that I’m in the position of hoping that she has gained this knowledge from giving oral sex and not from routinely purging. Crazy as it may be, my fingers are crossed.

Finally, Rodeo makes her craziest face yet…

…and at last produces a tear. Hooray! This is, like, the most exciting thing to ever happen in history!

Heather predicts the imminent celebration: “I’m safe, don’t have to deal with elimination. Good times. Margaritas I’m gonna be making.” Party on, Yoda.

It’s not so festive for everyone, though. Destiney starts packing once back at the house, as she figures that everyone on her team wants her out, and her time is up. How prescient.

The Entertainer is bothered by this, so he hatches a plan: they’ll get in a fight, she’ll chalk it up to his insensitivity and everyone will sympathize with her and keep her around.

The Entertainer suggests that the fight should be about him bringing another woman to bed. I love that a secondary kick-back is that his ego will be stroked. Next, they should fight about his large, injurious penis. The Entertainer advises Destiney: “And, yeah, I want you to smack me. Don’t be afraid. You’re gonna be doing that when we’re having sex, anyway.” I understand spanking, but smacking? Is he planning on being inappropriate in bed? What am I asking? Of course he is.

Anyway, Destiney and the Entertainer sit down to execute their plan.

But they are upstaged by ass-kissing and general drunken revelry. Their loss is our gain as these people get more awesome than they’ve been all season.

And, my personal favorite…

It seems impossible, but watching these people let totally loose reminds us how dignified this show has been up to this point. More drunkenness from now on, please! Put the ponies away!

The failure of the Entertainer and Destiney’s plan only makes the Entertainer seem crazy…

Sorry, I mean crazier.

The vault session is perhaps the quickest ever.

Brandi offers herself up for the box, since she wasn’t able to cry during the challenge. Then everyone (except Brandi) votes in Destiney. And then Real, too, offers himself up for the box. Why so civilized?

The answer to that question becomes apparent on the Power Outing. The group snorkels and has a shark-scare…

Meh. And then Real gets all worked up over cuts he claims are there but, in fact, aren’t…

Meh-ha-ha. It’s hard to say if he’s playing the I’m-weak-keep-me-around card, or if he really is that much of a wuss. Toasteee points out that she’s not buying this, since she’s faked injury before, too and apparently subscribes to the universal law that goes, “It takes one to know one.” And, oh yeah, what the hell happened to her “injury?” Did she just stop faking it? Did everyone on her team just forget about her claims of a sprained-ankle? Could it be the self-involvement really runs that deep?

Then, they lunch.

Destiney brings up the alliance she and Toasteee formed at the show’s very first Power Outing. As we will see, it went the way of Toasteee’s ankle, and she didn’t need a friendship brace or anything.

When it’s one-on-one time, Toasteee chooses the spend the 15 minutes with Real.

Convincing ensues. It is conclusive, but we can’t know that yet.

Neither can Hoopz, who’s pissed when she finds out that Toasteee is thinking about eliminating Real.

Betrayal in this house. Imagine that.


Brandi C., who can’t do anything right except for stick around this competition (which obviously makes her a threat, despite the popular opinion), gets her check first.

Then, Toasteee calls up Destiney…

…and informs Destiney that she already has an alliance, meaning their bond is as void as Destiney’s check. $250,000 is not in Destiney’s destiny.

She exchanges “I love you”s with the Entertainer, which may be the single most disturbing moment in VH1 history. I mean “love” when it’s not in reference to a second-wind pop culture figure, a decade or money? NO. SUCH. THING.

To her credit…

…Destiney seems not at all broken up about things. Good for her. The Entertainer, however…

…is another matter entirely. Poor guy…?

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