If I wave a turkey sandwich at you, would you knock me out? Please?
Fine.
So, America has decided that they don't give a flying fuck if some bubble-headed fame whore selects a man based on his "personality" instead of his appearance, because by now we've all figured out that these dipshits will agree to do anything for a chance at guest-hosting some shitty cable entertainment show. So they cut the finale for Mr. Personality to an hour to give us more American Idol clip shows and pointless interviews and clip shows and singing the same damned songs over and over and over again.
Kill me.
We open with some assistant producer of some sort "waking up" Ryan "King Of All Fame Whores" Seacrest, who is "asleep" on a couch in his dressing room. They both pretend that it's Monday and Ryan has this special show to do, but this was all actually filmed last Wednesday after Kimberley got ejected, so shut up, you two. Shut up and die. Ryan whips off the sheet to reveal that he's fully dressed in his ugly vintage-wear, and heads out to host this stupid, pointless show. Hate.
Credits. Please come and kill me, terminator mascot! Look, I'm Ahnold! See, I've got the shades! Ah'll be baaaahk. See? Kill me! Don't slink away! Come back! Kill me! Sigh.
Ryan heads back out onstage to the same screaming audience as last week. He blathers on about the show and leaves Chris Harrison and his "most shocking rose ceremony yet" blather in the dust by declaring that "never has a battle between two consenting adults created such a national fervor." The sad thing is that I can't say he's wrong. He reminds us about what this is all about and exaggerates the results, declaring that the second place winner gets nothing. Yes, nothing. Justin who? Movie? What movie? Album? What album? Shut up, Ryan. He lies that we're going to "get inside" Ruben and Clay's heads this evening, though really, Clay ends up getting inside the heads of one of his fans and is probably still quivering in fear.
, Ryan introduces the judges again. They've changed clothes to try to trick us into thinking it's a different night. It's Wednesday still. Shout it from the rooftops! Weeeeeedneessssdaaaay! Randy "Prince Of Tides" Jackson, Paula "Queen Of Wishful Thinking" Abdul, and Simon "Duke Of Churl" Cowell head out on the stage, over to the couches where the kids normally sit. I just accidentally typed "sleep" instead of "sit." I hate this show. Ryan runs up and pretends to tackle Simon. Save it for later, boys. There are impressionable right-wing bigots watching. Ryan lies that the judges saw over 70,000 people in the preliminaries. I've come to the conclusion that they saw maybe 500 max. This inspires a clip show that goes all the way back to the dawn of Season One. This is some sort of nonsense about the "evolution" of the judges. Paula was the nice one. We see her say nice things to the crazy cheese lady. Randy is the "laidback" one, whatever the hell that means. Oh, it apparently it means that he gives criticism, but he's not an ass about it. Except when he is. There's Tah-MEE-kah. They don't let her rant again, thank God. And Simon was the asshole. And none of that has changed. They're the same as they were last season. I guess this is the creationist's interpretation of "evolution" among the judges. They show clips of stuff Simon said yesterday. Er…"last week." There's a cute little clip montage of Randy saying "dawg" repeatedly, reminiscent of one of Homer Simpson's "D'oh!" symphonies. And there are clips of the "love/hate" relationship between Paula and Simon. Meaning, "We love the cameras and hate not being the center of attention, so we'll pretend to have this Maddie/David thing going on."
Back onstage, Ryan asks stupid questions. Why did Randy become so mean? He was mean last season, too. Oh whatever. He non-answers that he calls it like he sees it. Ryan brings up Paula's sense of "style." Incidentally, she's wearing a pink blouse with an oversized white men's tie. She looks like a bridesmaid at Avril Lavigne's wedding. She responds by insulting Simon's sense of fashion. Oy. Kill me! Please! Simon is wearing a gray shirt and faded jeans. His manboobs are more prominent than ever. She whines that Simon has a fashion budget. Which I assume means that Paula doesn't. Wow, I had no idea this show had a stance against enabling. Ryan blathers to Paula about being a positive influence or some bullshit. She blathers back about how she's an "artist" and knows what it's like and Simon doesn't and I saw this scary guy down on the corner and I think I'm going to ask him if he has any guns for sale. There's some nonsense about Paula being the "nurturing mother," Simon being the "disciplined [occasionally abusive] father," and Randy is the "supportive brother." I guess that leaves Ryan as the "funny uncle." Paula blathers on more and more and more. Finally when she stops for a breath, Ryan turns to Simon for some more adversarial blather. Simon jokes about how Paula's words have moved him so, and I'm having this weird déjà vu moment that I've seen this all somewhere last season. And now I'm having a déjà vu moment that I've actually had this déjà vu moment before. This is what happens when they show the same damned shit over and over again, and say the same damned shit over and over again and sing the same damned shit over and over again. I think somewhere in my recaps is the secret to time travel. Ryan points out that Simon was a behind-the-scenes producer, but then he discovered the glory of fame-whoring, and now he's all drinking in the spotlight. Simon mocks Ryan over his comments, because everybody knows that Simon will never be half the fame whore Ryan is. Ryan pulls out a Simon bobble-headed doll by way of example. An example of what, I have no idea. Capitalism? Simon then snarks, "The only reason I made this doll is to give something back to the children." Juanita would be so proud. Ryan gives the doll to some girl in the audience. I think eBay's going to be paying for some lucky girl's college education.
Now it's time to prop up a failing reality show. Ryan heads down to the audience to introduce us to that bimbo nitwit from Mr. Personality and her two moronic suitors. They're wearing their stupid masks, even though by this point, everybody, including the bimbo, knows what they look like. Ryan also, clearly, has never seen this show and doesn't know who these idiots are. It's like when David Letterman has the folks from Survivor on. Ryan asks her whom she's going to pick. Bimbo doesn't say anything, clearly expecting the audience to shout out responses. Dead silence. Crickets chirp. Nobody fucking cares. Hysterical. She actually has to encourage the audience to cast their vote. Which they do, limply. I don't think they're even shouting out names or anything. Just cheering. Then Ryan turns it around to ask her who is going to win American Idol, because nobody gives a flying shit who she's actually going to pick for anything. And since we don't cover Mr. Personality for the site, I'll give you a quick recap of the entire series: Nobody is beaten to death with a tire iron. Recapper's grade: F-. There's more blather about how Bimbo could only choose who would win if they sang in masks. Shut up, Bimbo.
up is a collection of C-list celebrities casting their votes in a clip show. Amanda Bynes loves Ruben. Jamie Kennedy votes Ruben. Lisa Ann Walter -- who the hell is Lisa Ann Walter? She votes for Clay. Frankie Muniz says his "girlfriend" loves Clay. Yeah, that wasn't your girlfriend I saw drooling over Clay at the X2 premiere, was it, Frankie? Was it? Shannon Elizabeth is rooting for Ruben.
Commercials. When we return, Ryan's back in the audience. Ryan says that they brought back all of the finalists accept for Josh, because he's on "active duty." I think that's code for "doing ten thousand laps for making the Marines look pudgy." Oh, and Corey's not there either, of course, though there's no mention of that. It's like he never existed. I can't say I oppose the idea. Anyway, they did fish Vanessa Olivarez and Charles Grigsby out from the rug they swept them under and allowed them back to sing along with "What The World Needs Now." Again. Jesus. Kill me. Anyway, it all sounds like it did last time. Schroeder plays the piano. Trenyce is dressed crazy, of course. So is Vanessa. Ruben appears to be wearing yellow pajamas. Kimberly Caldwell is back in her trashy curls rather than the femullet. Rickey's got a goatee. Unsurprisingly, Kim Caldwell stares into the camera during the chorus, even though everybody else is looking in the opposite direction over the piano. Hi, I'm Kimberly! Look, a camera! I'm on TV! Hi! I'm Kimberly! Hi! Julia still gets that stupid final word as her entire solo. Hee!
Most of the kids head over to the sofas after they're done so that Ryan can ask them stupid questions. Hey there, Charles. You still exist? Yes, yes he does. He says life has been crazy since he was ejected from the show. And he likes that, fame whore that he is. Kimberley Caldwell, do you still crave the love from the public that you don't get from your scary stage mom? Yes, yes she does. She's hosting a FOX sports show, even though she admits that she knows nothing about sports. Why should she be more knowledgeable than anybody else at that network? Simon burns Ryan by pointing out that Ryan hosts American Idol, even though he knows nothing about music. Ryan lacks the presence to shoot back that Simon has made millions off music even though he clearly knows nothing about it. There's nothing about sex in that sort of comeback, so Ryan doesn't think of it. Vanessa! Let's pretend Vanessa is still part of this whole program. Is she mad at Simon for what he said? No. Simon's really a sweetheart. Carmen, heaven help us, is going to "warm up" for the Dave Matthews Band in some new amphitheater in Salt Lake City. I hope "warm up" is something different from "open." And it just goes to show that Nibbler's people on Futurama were right -- the Dave Matthews Band really isn't all that cool. Those little muppets were right about everything. So, the tour. Trenyce, are you excited by the tour? Yes, she wants to -- okay, moving on to Rickey. Seriously, they cut her off, or edit her out, halfway through her response. I hate you people! Hate you! Rickey? Isn't this tour thing intense? Rickey responds, "No, idiot, it's in theaters." Geddit? Geddit? Okay, fine. I need sleep! Sleep! Rickey blathers on about there being lots of stops on their tour.
Apparently they sent Kimberley Locke backstage after the group sing, because Ryan introduces her back onstage. She joins the other non-winners on the couches. Ryan asks her how she's been these "past couple of days" and what she's been doing since she was eliminated from the competition. There are a lot of quick cuts to eliminate the audience laughing because they don't want us to know that they filmed this, like, minutes after Kimberley was ejected. Why they feel like they have to do this, I have no idea. What's the big deal if we all know this took place last Wednesday? I swear, these reality shows have gotten so caught up in manipulating the environment that they don't even stop to consider if it's even necessary anymore. She gives a non-answer about how it feels to have Ruben cry on her shoulder, and blathers away about nothing because she was ejected ten minutes ago and can't possibly answer the question. Who does Kimberley think is going to win? She thinks it could be either of them. Ryan tells us we'll talk to Clay and Ruben after the break.
Commercials. When we return, Ryan reminds us that there's the whole show thing, and singing. Who is going to win? People shriek out their answers. Ooh! Clip shows. Ruben is first. They replay Ruben winning over the judges in the early rounds while Ruben's rendition of "Sweet Home, Alabama" plays as background music. Everybody loves Ruben. Everywhere. You love Ruben. YOU LOVE RUBEN! You are required to love Ruben. Loving Ruben is mandatory. Even though we all love Ruben, he ended up in the bottom two one week, causing everybody to forget that Trenyce existed. Oh, and everybody loves his smile.
Back on the stage, Ruben heads back out in his yellow pajamas and goes over to the couches. The kids are all gone, though the judges are still there. Ryan says stupid things. Ruben gives polite non-responses. Ryan reminds us all that Ruben recently returned home for a visit. I feel bad for the audience members who just heard all this already not thirty minutes ago. Ruben tells us how he reconnected with his old band and saw his old teachers. What did it feel like to have people in his hometown shrieking at him and running up to him and stuff? It was different. Real different. Fascinating.
To make up for the fact that Ruben has no actual personality of his own, they brought in his brother, Kevin, again for some special little Newlywed Game-type segment. They asked Ruben's brother several questions. They have Ruben try to predict his brother's responses. What food wouldn't Ruben eat? The choices are "sushi," "pesto," or "what kind of question is that?" Ruben says he hates sushi, so that's the answer, but on the tape, Kevin responds, "What kind of question is that?" Did Kevin support Ruben's singing when they were growing up? Those of us who remember the first round of finals will recall that Kevin used to beat Ruben up to try to get him to stop singing. Too bad nobody tried that on Corey. And the final question: At the age of twelve, why did Ruben knock Kevin out? It turns out that it was over a turkey sandwich. That's right -- Ruben cleaned Kevin's clock as a child and knocked him unconscious over food. As a kid. Isn't that hysterical and not at all a disturbing cry for help? Er…not that my sister and I got into a screaming, shoving, hair-pulling match once over who got the last of the orange juice when we were around that age or anything.
Ryan and Ruben blather on some more. Ruben recently had dinner with Neil Sedaka. I'm hearing radio ads for Sedaka's Vegas show now where I live, and his constant enthusiasm sounds even creepier when he's just a voice. He's really, really excited about everything. Sedaka gave the kids the sheet music for their performances of his songs. How utterly self-indulgent. I had a crazy ex-boss who insisted on giving me an autographed copy of a textbook he wrote, like anybody would fucking care at all. I just left it in the office. It's probably still there. Anyway, the story is just a segue into Ruben singing Sedaka's "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do" for us again. He smiles and warbles his way through the song. He sounds nice. Everybody loves him. People shout "Ruuuuuuuube!"
Commercials. I will buy Excedrin. I will buy Excedrin. I am in your power.
When we return, Paula's got her little pet Chihuahua sitting on her lap. The yippy little dog looks confused and addled. Insert your own joke about dogs looking like their owners. Simon snarks that the dog is Paula's scriptwriter. Anyway, up is Clay. Clips! Clips! Clips! Clay was a geek. But he could sing. It is so shocking that a geek can sing! Geeks aren't supposed to sing! They're supposed to fix the computers and scream like little girls when you punch them in the shoulders! He lost on the semifinals, but won in the wild card round. And now he's in the final two. And he winks! Clay!
Clay heads out onto the stage in a tan suit that's two sizes too large and a mint-green shirt. He sits down to the judges. Ryan insists that this is all "surreal" to Clay, because he was voted in during the wild card round. No, it would be surreal if Clay were actually a singing cactus voted on to the finals. The misuse of that word is getting up there with the misuse of "ironic" and "literally." Clay says it's "humbling" to be there. Why do these people think it's humbling to be all the rage of the media everywhere? Tell me how humbling it was again in three years when you're back to working with kids, Clay. Is Clay thinking about the whole fame thing because Kelly Clarkson's all big now and stuff? Yes. Yes he is. Ryan points out that Clay looks completely different from the way he used to look. How would he sum up his experiences on the show? What? How do those two statements correlate? Shut up, Ryan. Clay blathers about how amazing it is and all and he's still the same person and shut up, Clay.
And now Clay comes face-to-face with his scary, scary future. Ryan heads out to the audience and grabs some Clay fan and brings her back to the stage. Okay, this woman? She's wearing a black shirt with a pink cartoon outline of Clay's head with the word "Claymate" written above it in pink script. I think that's grounds enough for a restraining order, even if she never says anything even slightly threatening to Clay. Her name is Erin. Clay hugs her. Ryan escorts them over to the drinking fountain stools to give her a test of her Clay Aiken knowledge. How much was Clay Aiken's red pleather jacket? I burst into tears because, thanks to reading through thousands and thousands of Clay posts, I actually knew the answer to this question immediately. Kill me. I forgot Mother's Day, but I remembered how much Clay's jacket cost. Erin guesses correctly that it cost $1,200. Other people in the audience start cheering immediately, because they also immediately knew what the answer was. Clay is a little unnerved that she knew the answer. Ryan asks Erin what Clay's nickname was at the "Y." Hee! Hee! Hee! Oh, right. Kids, not gay locker room sex. Anyway, she knows the answer was "Gonzo." I cry some more because I knew it, too. Clay laughs uncomfortably. He's thinking, "If she knows what my blood type is, I'm just going to sprint for the fire exit." For the last question, Ryan asks Erin how old Clay was when he became a high school mascot. I sigh in relief, because I didn't know this one. He became the school's mascot at a mere five years of age. Jeez. Erin knows it. Clay is totally creeped out. This is your future, Clay. Strange women thinking every little thing about you is adorable. Run. Clay hugs Erin, who plants a tracking device on his back, then leaves.
Now it's Clay's turn to sing something we've already heard before. Clay sings "Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me," which is a perfect song for him, what with it being ridiculously over the top anyway. He tilts his head back and belts and smirks and sings and belts and pops his head around. The audience loves it. I realized that the reason my recaps seem to be getting shorter is because they sound the same every single time, and I'm running out of interesting ways to say it. The wad is about all but shot.
Commercials. When we return, there's still more time to kill in this pointless hour. Let's take some questions from "random" audience members. Much like how the finalists picked their songs "randomly" last week. A woman asks Ruben who he'd like to perform with when he becomes a "star." He reveals that he wants to do a duet with Tamyra Gray. In fact, it sounds like he did do a duet with Tamyra, for some song called "If This World Were Mine." Well, how lucky that this audience member just happened to ask him about it. Some girl softballs a question to Clay about what he finds most appealing about becoming the American Idol. Clay wants to have "influence." Oh, heaven spare me from performers with aspirations of influence. I want to make the world a better place with my talented epiglottis! People should be nice to each other! Stop being so mean! Hey, are you listening to me? Don't switch over to Eminem! Come back! Ryan challenges Clay on this, not understanding how somebody couldn't devote his life to drinking in any second of fame available. Clay responds that he certainly wouldn't turn down fame and fortune, but people pick a job because they enjoy it. Not because of the money. Yes, those folks down at the chicken processing plant working twelve hours a day for minimum wage look really happy. Some hunky chipster named Dan with really, really nice arms (What? Shut up) asks Randy, "What's up, dawg?" Randy says he's chillin'. That's not the actual question. He asks Randy what advice he has for the other two judges. Randy has nothing of importance to say. Paula's fine. Simon needs a tan. Ryan throws the question over to Paula. She's equally incomprehensible. She thinks Randy is fine, and her suggestion for Simon is, "Whatever." Which, coincidentally, is what Paula's doctor has written on her prescription orders. Simon's advice, predictably, is "Listen to me."
Ryan runs back up to the stage and pulls Ruben and Clay back to the stage. Ryan's going to flip a coin to determine who goes first. Ruben calls it. He calls heads. It's tails. Clay gets to choose. Clay chooses to go last, the final spot being the prime real estate for glory-note whores. Are we done? No, not really. We are, but we're not.
Commercials. The time a stranger instant messages you to tell you how long his penis is, keep in mind that he could be a monk.
When we return, Ryan reminds us how well the kids have been doing on the charts. Aw. I'm crying again. Now the kids are going to sing us out with yet another nausea-inducing rendition of "God Bless The U.S.A." With Josh gone, it falls on Ruben to pretend that he has a wife and kids. Vanessa and Clay are amusingly melodramatic together. The kids sing for a while, and are then cut off so FOX can make room for that insipid Mr. Personality show that nobody watched. And she picked the rich pretty boy anyway! What sort of fucking payoff is that? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to get five minutes of sleep before recapping the remaining thirty-five hours of the finale.