So, Brendon is “sure everyone had a good time in New Orleans, but it’s time to move on. Browgay! Time for some tour earnings info:
FLICK -- 5854
HARLOW -- 7176
SOULCRACKER -- 7535
Atlanta’s the town. Woo hoo. Ramsey and Sutton say goodbye to their girlfriends as Amanda and Chimene watch and comment. Heh. Amanda (about Kelly, Ramsey’s chica): “She’s got a great ass. She looks like she needs to be bent over.” Chimene: “You’re fucking evil.” Agreed. Amanda: “I like [Sutton’s] girl. She’s cool.” Chimene: “Too cool for him.” Laughs. Okay. Whatevs.
The bands are on their ways to Atlanta, The Big…Uh…In Georgia. Ramsey estimates that “it’s about a ten-hour drive.” That’s nice. It’ll take us about a minute, as always. In what way is this important?
Over in the FLICKVAN5000, Fletcher is wondering “what we’re gonna do . We’re two thousand dollars behind first place, so we’re just along for the ride at this point.” Too bad, man. If you guys didn’t drink, um, all the time, you could probably get some serious loot. But I guess then you wouldn’t be FLICKERSTICK, would you? Food for thought, folks. Food. For. Thought. Not. Cory is convinced HARLOW doesn’t really want to win at all. “They’re so close to first, you would think they would get off their asses. I guess not.” Touché, Cecil. I mean, Cory.
It’s funny, cuz Amanda and Rayshele are talking about winning too. Amanda: “Do you think we could do it?” Rayshele: “Well, we’re only three-fifty behind. But I’m wondering if it would be in our best interests to win this thing.” What are you talking about? Buck up, camper. I understand your desire to keep things “on the underground tip,” but there’s also some equipment and promotion opportunities at stake that could make your band life a lot easier, so get in gear, girlie, and try to win this thing. Somehow. God knows your music won’t sell itself.
Beastie is talking some shit about how conscious the other bands are about their images. Well, dude, they’re bands. You know how it goes. You’re in one. And let me tell you something else. Your band has an image, too, whether you like it or not. The image is “shit.” So shut up. Buttlock.
Becks is getting some dude she knows to hook HARLOW up with a radio interview in Atlanta. How the hell does she know all these people? Waddup wit dat, y’all? Whatever works, I guess.
We enter Atlanta to the classic sounds of the B-52s and a lover-ly montage of Atlanta-ish sites. Sweet not.
CRACK goes straight to their venue, as they are wont to do from time to time, and Beastie declares that it is a SOULCRACKER kind of place. Remind me to never go there if I ever go to Atlanta. Apparently, it’s trivia night, and all the CRACK boys are trivia whizzes. Ramsey: “We tend to have a lot of, kind of, useless information.” Not gonna argue that one, either.
HARLOW has decided to stay in tonight. Fine by me.
Rex and Dominic are feeling demotivated. Dom: “We lost our drive to sell, not our drive to be on the show.” Understandable, dudes, but like I told Rayshele (and I don’t know why I thought you were even listening; I swear sometimes I don’t know why I even bother), you guys need to buck the hell up, campers! Damn. You know you could sell as much merch as CRACK if you spent maybe less time drinking. I’m just sayin’ is all. So, to heed my advice, FLICK goes a-boozin’. Not. They get so ragingly sloppy. What is this, Cancun? There are girls just pouring liquor straight into their mouths. They’re wrestling. They’re puking. They’re not selling a damn thing. Oh, forget it. You guys are a lost cause. I love ya and all, but Jesus, guys. Shot of Cory housing some camera-hog, spliced with a shot him talking about how much he loves his girl. I think we get it. Cory loves his girl but wants to boff others. Great. Story. Line. Not. I’d rather hear about Bob’s spastic colon.
Merch!
FLICK -- NOTHING!
HARLOW -- NOTHING!
SOULCRACKER -- $10 (STOOOO-PAAAHD! You so STOOOO-PAAAHD!)
So, Cory’s on the horn with Leanne, who wants to come to Atlanta and see FLICK play. She’s pretty amped about the whole deal, but Cory seems reserved. Hmm. Cory: “I wanted to tell her ‘don’t come.’” So why didn’t you? Whatever. The rest of FLICK gives him a lot of shit, which is always funny. Dom: “The guys always tease me a lot for getting a lot of girls, but now that Cory’s got a three-year girlfriend at home and another on the road, I get to watch him squirm.” You’re a good friend, dude. Seriously. Not.
HARLOW’s going shopping. Becks: “I think the image is just as important as the music is. It’s a lifestyle, really.” Rayshele is freaking. There are apparently too many awesome outfits to choose from. She looks a goth-fembot about to explode. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Heh.
BONUS!!! An in-store performance at Guitar Center will pay out $150 for the first band to answer three trivia questions about Georgia musicians. Great. Wonder who’s gonna get this one. Not. I don’t wonder that at all. HARLOW goes to a record store (good move), and totally wins. Finally, a band that isn’t SOULCRACKER wins the goddamn bonus. Brandin: “Hopefully this will put HARLOW in front of SOULCRACKER before the battle of the bands.” True. Beastie: “Shit!” You suck, dude. Go sell some merch or something. Sutton writes a song about losing. Something new and different.
For once, SOULCRACKER decides to promote by actually drinking and meeting people instead of playing a gazillion shows. However, it is karaoke night, so they’re psyched. Dude, Sutton’s wearing an “N-train” t-shirt. Not. That’s my train, beeotch. You’re not even from New York. Take that shit off. AP gets up and sings “California Girls,” which sucks. Sutton and Beastie boo him. Heh.
FLICK is wasted again, and Cory’s talking shit about how Dom went from “geek to chic.” Whatever. Dominic gets spanked. Yeah, really chic. Not. Rex: “He has to masturbate ten times a day, I dunno. There’s something wrong…down there…nobody should need to have that much sex.” I agree. I honestly would settle for once a year at this point. Sigh. Cory: “When Dominic gets drunk, he’s just looking for love. Sometimes, he’s looking in all the wrong places.” Agreed. Dom says something about being screwed over by an ex, so he threw up an emotional “brick wall.” Whatever.
HARLOW is at The Earl, meeting Donny, the promoter for their show. They start to booze and bar-hop. Rayshele: “He made our time in Atlanta fabulous.” Rayshele wants to do drugs, but doesn’t mention what kind. Chimene: “All drugs are stupid, but I drink and do other things. It’s how a rock band works sometimes, and when you constantly have stuff being shoved in your face, eventually you fold.” Fair enough. All the girls take trips to the bathroom with Donny for some Colombian marching powder. Rebecca: “I really hope that’s not how we’re portrayed because it’s not really what we’re about.” Understood. Chill, guys, we get it. People do drugs, and yeah, they are stupid. I’m over it if you are. Anyway, it does the trick, 'cause they rage all night.
Merch!
FLICK -- $150
HARLOW -- $40
SHUT-UP-AP -- $303
It’s now 6:45 AM, and HARLOW has a radio interview in fifteen minutes. They haven’t gone to bed yet, and they're wondering if the radio people are gonna know how drunk they still are. I’m betting yes. They do fine, even though the “radio personalities” give them a gentle ribbing about smelling like booze. Oh well.
SOULCRACKER is at Georgia State, promoting in their normal fashion. Bob and AP are worried about the band's dwindling revenue. Mr. Stupidhead tells them to shut the hell up, to no avail.
FLICK is still passed out, and it’s 11:45. The phone rings, and it’s Leanne. Cory does not seem pleased. Rex gives him some more early-morning shit, which is, as always, hilarious. Anyway, an hour later, Leanne and her friend, Esther-Esther and Cult Jam, have arrived. Cory still seems sketched for some reason. Dude, if you didn’t want them here, you should have just said something. The girls go to the mall while they think Cory is sleeping. He’s actually talking shit with the guys. Rex (imitating Cory): “Baby, I just want to be in the same city as you.” Heh. I love that guy. Remember when I didn’t? That was weird.
Everyone in CRACK is getting on Beastie’s case about his inability to sing anything well, ever. He gets pissed (rightfully, I suppose). Beastie: “I used to have more leads, but now Sutton takes more of the spotlight.” Bob: “Yeah, he’s a little upset that he got…moved.” Shut up, dickhead. Beastie isn’t my fave, but he’s Thom Yorke compared to your ass. Whatever, they’re all making this big deal out of one line in a song that sucks anyway. I can’t even deal. .
HARLOW is driving to Guitar Center for their bonus opportunity. They look like cadavers, and for once it isn’t because of their makeup. The performance sucks (because they’re all dead and can’t play). The power keeps going out. Amanda: “It seemed really Spinal Tap to me.” I totally agree. Eventually, they just leave. I can’t really blame them. But hey, while they’re at Guitar Center, they stock up on strings and drum heads and crap, which is always fun. But where do they get the money? Merch? Twenty bucks a day doesn’t nearly cover that stuff. Whatevs.
FLICK is playing their show, and they rock, naturally. Leanne agrees: “They were awesome.” Aw. That’s so sad. Cory’s so through with you, girl, and you flew down to see him. Ouch.
FLICKERSTICK and HARLOW are back at the hotel, and they are piss drunk. Cory and Fletcher slash SOULCRACKER’s tires, which is so immature I could just scream (with absolute delight). Cory: “After thirty or forty beers, it sounds like a real good idea to let the air outta someone’s tires.” Dude, I’m completely sober and I think it’s great. Does that really make me all that immature? Fine, but I gotta be me. Anyway, back in the room, Dom is hookin' it up with some camera-hog, while Leanne and Esther-Esth and the Funky Bunch lie around bored and pissed. Cory stumbles into FLICK’s other room (where Leanne isn’t) and jumps into bed with some other camera-hog. Leanne has had it. She and Esther bounce outta there pretty quickly, but they have to go to Cory’s room to get their stuff. As they leave, Esther says (quite audibly), “Foulness.” I hate to say it, but Leanne knew what she was getting into. Cory’s a dick. But his band rocks, is always drunk, and is on the road. They’re exempt.
So that’s Atlanta, for now.
week: CRACK thinks HARLOW let the air out of their tires, and all sorts of beef erupts. AP thinks everyone is being a dick; HARLOW “pimps a millionaire,” according to Rayshele; Dominic kisses, pukes, and kisses again. Cory attempts suicide, but everybody thinks he’s a scumbag from the whole Leanne thing, so they don’t care. Be there or be…well, just be there.