When we return, we don't get a pimpmercial so much as "Pimpmercial: Behind The Music." We're on location with the Top 11 somewhere in, it appears, the moors of England. Seriously, it's all lush and green and freezing cold. The plot of the video is that the contestants are...making a music video. In the 1950s. So everyone laughs and goofs around and huddles together to conserve body heat, and the video is some Plan 9 From Outer Space thing, which fits the pimpmercial theme because "So Bad It's Good" is kind of what they aspire to. That and making you want to buy a Ford.
More elimination stuff! David Cook is up . Ryan reminds him that Simon called him smug last night -- how does he respond to that? "I don't," David says...smugly? Stoicly? Simon appreciates the reaction either way. He may indeed be smug, but how do you answer that question besides being all cloyingly "I'm reeeeaally not!"? David will have time to figure it out, because he's safe. Kristy Lee Cook is...not safe. As she, and we, expected. She joins Carly at the stools while Jason Castro takes the stage. And holy shit is Jason a tiny kid. Almost shorter than Seacrest, and definitely slimmer. What a tiny wisp of a thing to be in the Top 10. He joins the others and freaks out with David and Michael about making the tour. Ramiele is , and obviously with two of the three stools occupied she's totally safe because they won't name the third until they've gotten through everybody. Indeed, she's in the Top 10. She's also crept into the Top 10 of people who are annoying me with her whole little girl routine she pulls with Ryan. Pout and baby talk on your own time. So Carly and Kristy Lee get to stew some more while we go to commercial.
After the break, it's the Segment That Will Kill Me Dead, the viewer questions. Let's get this over with. Almost all of the questions are for the judges rather than the contestants, which shows you just how compelling this year's crop really is. So Caller 1 bitches Simon out about his wardrobe, and the judges play slap-and-tickle for a while about that, and Ryan somehow lets us know that Simon's car is too cramped (...) and bleeeeeeehhhhh. The question is about Simon and Paula's raging sexual chemistry. .... Finally a question for a contestant, asking Ramiele what she's downloaded onto her iPod lately. The answer is some R. Kelly song. That's your second strike, kiddo. : Is Michael Johns's Idol experience everything he thought it would be. "And more" is Michael's cliché of an answer. Fascinating! He does actually say, "Apparently, I peaked in Hollywood," which is some nice self-awareness and humor, so I'll give him that.
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Ryan calls all three girls to the center of the stage: Carly looks petrified, Kristy Lee looks amused, just like last week, and Amanda looks like she can't decide whether she'd rather go home tonight and get it over with or stick around for a few weeks and be sentenced to a whole summer touring with Ramiele and Castro and Archuleta. After the break, Ryan sends Carly to the couches, to her great and honestly surprised relief. "Carly's Husband and Friends" are captioned, even though that's totally not the Tattoo Face that I know and love.
Simon is called upon to validate the voting results, and he says America got it right again. Which...that's shooting fish in a barrel this week because he hated almost everybody. Kristy Lee, says Ryan, is...safe "for another week." Heh. Yeah, nobody's kidding themselves about her chances at this point. Amanda looks half-sad and half-relieved and assures Kristy Lee that "it's fine." Her video journey reminds me both why I enjoyed her (REO Speedwagon!) and why I was sometimes annoyed by her (devil horns upon devil horns), in equal measure. Also annoying me is the stupid Ruben sing-out song. I'll celebrate you home, buddy. She tells Ryan it's been a wild ride and finishing 11th out of everybody is pretty cool. The singout is kind of a mess -- once again she and the band are on completely different pages. Carly's weeping, of course, but nobody else looks super broken up. Ramiele's got dry eyes, so that should tell you something.
So farewell, Amanda Overmyer. You'll probably be much happier at that bar back in Lafayette. week: more Beatles songs! No, not really. I think we've finally learned our lesson, right?
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