Then some major nerds: Chris Kirkham (26, Ogden) wearing a Simon t-shirt, and his friend Greg the Rabbit ("I call him 'Grabbit'). Randy goes, "Bunny! Hi, Bunny!" Which may well be the best thing in this whole episode. Chris sings -- and this is exactly what I'm talking about -- Del Amitri's "Roll To Me," a song that should never be sung but especially not in 2008, while the Grabbit bounces around being all hot and beardy like Iron & Wine in a pink bunny suit. Why not just be gay? I know I say this every year, but honestly. It's natural, it's super fun, and way easier than this happy crap right here. Nobody has to know.
So anyway, he sings the song, and Simon finally gets all, "This is getting too real." Kara says he should have hopped like a bunny instead of bouncing on their heels, and Simon goes, "It all started to become normal, and I can't do that." I know exactly what he means, you know? Like you only have one shot to stay sane, and this is not helping. Chris tries another song, and Kara plays with his Simon puppet, and they say no to all of it. Randy loves the big pink bunny, still, and then the big pink bunny sort of... humps Simon. He loves it. Anyone would, come on. Grabbit is the only good thing happening here so far.
More lovely valleys and scary Utah sameness, and then a bunch of No from Simon and Paula, leading us hopefully at some point into the worthwhile thing: a tiny blonde guy, the back of a girl in heels named Laura, a tall sad man with curly hair, a skinny blonde with lots of hair and a weird smile, the back of a pretty girl in boots and leggings, the front of that pretty girl still in boots and leggings from this direction as well, the lady we'll eventually be getting to and her baby, happy auditioners laughing Mormonly, hot skinny dude with a soul patch and a vest and a choker with a gold feather on it stubbornly remaining hot regardless of these things, adorable laughing girl in a weird beaded Renaissance shirt, an elderly black cowboy with an absurdly knotted tie -- seriously, it's like a twelve-in-hand knot this guy's working -- and a whole lot of bling, adorable sparkly-eyed nerdy girl refusing to let disappointment get her down, the back of a girl in a big floppy shirt and flares, many buckteeth, many shots of Simon looking astounded and all Ain't That America, a guy I swear I've met in real life in a striped pink shirt, Simon dozing off angrily, a hot ginger kid, Paula's face getting so weird, and various losers we don't need to worry about.
Ryan goes out into the holding room and tells the group to put up a fight and refuse to accept defeat no matter what the judges say. You can tell he's doing this to dick with Simon, and I think most of the auditioners are aware, but their morale is improved notwithstanding. Then there's a lady with a baby who was born to do this and also dance around, and wants us to understand that we will love her voice. Also, she has been visualizing success. I think we're supposed to like her, but I kind of already don't. Frankie Jordan (24, Hollywood, CA) is a stay-at-home mom and full-time believer in herself. Luckily, she has a fair amount of skill and a sort of Holliday-via-Winehouse style, and an acceptable vocal talent. On the other hand, she's singing a Winehouse song, which kind of puts her in that Scott Savol place of being a wannabe. However, Simon informs her, she has a "cute little face" and a good voice, so they put her through. She won't get far, I don't think. Or, as Ryan puts it, "Frankie goes to Hollywood." Relax, Ryan. Jacob say relax.
From the smile and tired eyes of Megan Corkrey (23, Sandy, UT), we can surmise a couple of things before she even speaks. One, she definitely has a baby. Two, she has a sad story. I hope she keeps it a secret! First up: yep, there's the baby. And yes, his name is Rider. And yes, she is getting divorced, and has been crying for a long time now, but her kid has been charged with stabilizing his mother's emotional state. That will end well. "World I Know" plays as she explains that being a single mother at her age is exactly what her destiny should be, plus being on this show of course. From my smile and tired eyes at this juncture, you should be able to surmise a few things about my situation right now.
On the plus side, she's a font designer, which is a wicked cool job assuming she's actually doing it and not just answering the questionnaire aspirationally, and she's going to be singing "Can't Help Loving That Man Of Mine," which is sort of darkly hilarious. Can she sing? Sort of? Yeah, no, actually she can. You can tell her nervousness is doing her no favors, but she has an interesting voice and a grip on pitch. Paula's bordering on loving her, Randy's into her, Simon calls it one of his favorite auditions because she's likeable and has a cool voice. Kara likes her incredible face. Outside, Ryan accidentally backs into a conversational cul-de-sac where neither of them have anything to say, and she exits gracefully. Still, I foresee drama at the Hollywood stage. up: a story that will break your heart and dread your locks!
On the other hand, can she sing? Basically, yes. There's a passion you can't really fake, and she's got a lot of soul behind it for a 17-year-old that looks like a gross dirty-footed hippie begging for money outside the Starbucks, and she's a lovely girl, and doesn't have too many issues with pitch. So I mean, shut up and put her through and stop messing around with her head, because obviously she's going. Simon tells her he absolutely loves her, and finds her to be very special, and says he'll remember her for once. And she unanimously gets through, and dorks out and hugs everybody, and comes out screaming, and her friend hugs her, and she jumps around on her filthy feet. Good for her.
So, we've got thirteen Golden Tickets from SLC: Rose, a twirling girl, a screaming girl, a member of the clergy, a man with bad hair, that mother, the very young blonde, Chipmunk Cheeks II, some dudes, presumably Austin. After everybody leaves, Ryan's like, "Simon, that girl you said you'd remember forever? What was her name?" Let's let his answer remain a mystery.
TOMORROW: I will gratefully get back to cursing and swearing throughout the entire last audition episode, where we've apparently smashed San Juan and NYC together: the usual bunch of awful attention- and drug-seekers, and a weird number of people slamming into walls and walls slamming into people. Either this means they both suck -- Is "suck" a curse word? The perennial question -- which equals two halves of suck, or they both suck in such a way that smashing them together means it will be a non-stop hour-long filler-free thrill-ride. I don't think I could even have managed to hope for the latter until I met Austin, who taught me that sometimes you don't want things to fail, because things become so much nicer when they succeed. Yes they do.
THEN: HOLLYWOOD. And among the lovely shots of people going completely insane and making this entire show worthwhile each year, there are a surprising number of people I recognize. Probably a record number, actually, if I'm remembering correctly. Not by name, you know, but I see some people. I see that horrible Tatiana, and I see Rose, and the two gay dudes. So that's good, because as much as the sob stories are completely ridiculous and manipulative this year, the people on the other side of them seem pretty interesting from the get-go, so somebody is doing their job. Oh, Hollywood. You make one week out of twenty so beautiful, and you last such a short, lovely time.