Previously, and in some cases never-before-heard, on Making the Band: Ashley has a girlfriend, Shelli, who tearfully saw him off at the airport en route to Orlando. For at least the third time, we see Mini-Lou's first-day lecture, "I'm not really sure where your heads are at, but..." "But they're not in my lap," booms my pal Omar G, who in his first Band viewing has apparently already pegged Mini-Lou's internal monologue. We then see scenes of Erik-Michael with Herizon member Jenny, where he tells us he enjoys her company and that "I really enjoy kissing." Lou squirts some Binaca into his mouth and puckers up in front of his mirror. Cut to Ranger Marc asking the guys, "Is this about fun and games, or is this about making a group?" Grappling with this, the most nefarious of life's questions, I loudly bless the credits for answering it and alleviating my confusion.
Ranger Marc, a.k.a. Marc Piacenza the Boy-Band Nanny, apparently does not spell his name with a 'k' at the end. A pox on him for not being obvious! Nevertheless, he is still an edgy Man Van chauffeur with a heart of gold, spewing advice and moral guidance -- perhaps the "c" is for "caring." Or "sCripted."
Another full moon in Orlando. Jenny's talking to Erik-Michael, who's standing up hunched over the Bat Phone looking ready to hang up and flee at a moment's notice. He tells Jenny he just called to say goodbye -- not quite the Stevie Wonder sentiment for which she'd hoped. On a split-screen, we see the scene from two episodes ago when Ranger Marc gave Erik, Ashley and Jacob a tongue-lashing.... and then scolded them staying out late at a tattoo parlor. Erik-Michael says none of them got in big trouble, but were encouraged to realign their priorities. Jenny wants to know if Herizon is still allowed to hang out with the group, saying she's the last person who'd get in the way of their work. E-M assures her none of this is her fault, but he can't hang out with her because he needs to focus. "I'll miss you," Jenny whines. "Don't forget about me." Erik looks bored to tears by her words. In his confessional scene, Erik says he sees a conflict between having a personal life and embarking on this career. It's time to prioritize, he can't have a relationship right now, and damn his fishy, boyish looks for luring ladies to his lips like vultures to a cadaver.
Gathered around the kitchen table, the guys are practicing the harmony on "Love Potion No. 9," which sounds decent but not great. That's the pattern here -- they're always decent, never outstanding. Ikaika's trying to get creative with his part, but it doesn't work and he rolls his eyes and laughs and skips off to call Malia for the eighteenth time. On the other half of a split-screen, Trevor's broken record is playing: "everyone needs to practice," "in two weeks, the cut's going to be made," blah blah blah rejection blah snore. Bryan Chan pops up to tell us that at this point, no one has "taken the perspective of, 'I don't need to rehearse.' " Paul immediately rains on Bryan's observational parade, saying that he knows they should practice, but that "I'm not a big practicer. I have my part on Love Potion FLAT," he says, slapping his leg. Poor choice of words, Paul, since "flat" doesn't have any positive vocal connotations. Then he pauses and backpedals a bit, admitting that okay, maybe he does need to practice a little, he just doesn't feel the need to sit at home and do it because he can nail it in rehearsal. We see him sitting, bored, listening to the guys sing and adding his falsetto at the end, wondering why this episode revolves around everyone else. Erik chips in some of his signature profound logic: "We need to not be concentrating on things that do not matter right now." Confucius has spoken.
Bright lights. Big City. A girl appears who looks startlingly like Shiri Appleby's character, Liz, in Roswell -- and as such, I dislike her immediately. We learn she is Cori, and Mike tells us they met through Mini-Lou. Evidently, Trans Con Studios doubles as a den of strumpets that Lou and his minions ("mini"ons -- ha!) pimp out to the male talent. Mike and Ashley are walking with her, and Mike teases her: "She won't sing or dance (for us), she won't play the guitar. But she wants to be a performer." Dear God, please deliver me from aspiring singers. Amen. Mike tells us that the way he and Ashley react to women is very similar. Indeed -- it's called an erection, Mike, and through the wonders of biology and genetics, many men have them. Just ask Paul.
Back at the Flirtation Station, Cori is sitting in someone's bedroom listening raptly to a song Ashley is making up about her. He strums the guitar and sings, "Cori, I // Had a fun time tonight. // I don't understand // Why you can't // Spend the night." When Mini-Lou suggested that they all should be writing, I doubt he had this atrocity in mind. Mike and Erik-Michael sit earnestly nearby, adding harmonies. Erik looks about twelve years old, smiling like he's been sniffing Sharpie pens and pretending he's in any way relevant to the Cori story. Cori's got a friend there who's conveniently sitting off to the side, deemed far too unremarkable to participate in this musical orgy. In case our senses had been failing us, and indeed we wish they had, Mike reminds us in a voice-over that he and Ashley sat there making up "the stupidest song" for her. He admits there's some competition for her affections, and says he hopes she likes him better than Ashley. Mike adds, "Ashley is very aware of the feminine attention he gets, but he's very careful as well because he knows he has a girlfriend and he doesn't want to mess up." Oh, god, he's a Paul clone. Just what the world needs.
The only positive point about that scene is that Mike finally got a chance to sing almost-solo. He deserves props for having a fantastic voice -- it sounds wrong when blended with the others in those terrifying harmonies, but when he's on his own, he's great. Here's hoping Mike figures that out and sprints out of Jabba's lair.
In his room, Ashley starts to show Mike (for the camera's benefit) a photo of Shelli, and I take a deep breath and pray it will be a Glamour Shot. But it isn't -- if you can believe it, it's even better. It's a black-and-white shot of Shelli, who's got her head turned to face the camera but has leaned her shoulders flat against a wall so that her breasts look bulging. She's trying to look sultry by not smiling, but the whole effect is very Amazon-tigress -- that, or a promotional picture for the hit adult flick It's a Jungle Down There. Ashley tells us he's used to having a girlfriend around, so when he's away he gravitates toward women and always wants to chat with them. Mike decides to provoke Ashley, who's a lot more diplomatic than Paul. "Cori's really pretty," Mike observes out of the blue. Ashley says yes, Cori is pretty and cool to hang out with. "She has a nice butt, too," Mike says. "Really fun," repeats Ashley, lying on his bed and looking up at the ceiling, probably imagining all the rollicking good fun he could have with Cori's rear end. Mike, sitting on his cot facing Ashley, regurgitates the butt remark, to which Ashley semi-shouts in an exasperated voice, "Why are you trying to get me to say she has a nice butt? OKAY, she has a nice butt." Ah, 'butt' a cheeky Mike's not about to let it go, and goads him again: "You want her, huh?" Ashley decides to go to bed. Reenacting Paul and Trevor's scene from last week has little Romeo all tuckered out.
A bunch of guys stand on a street corner going, "Hey ladies!" and get completely dissed by all passing women. It's either beginning of a Starburst commercial, or a bunch of guys who just bought How to Pimp Your Wares, Paul's bestselling instructional video.
Jacob and Erik are bothering everyone by playing and singing their original song for Mini-Lou, who only says, "That's good." He's looking mighty red-faced and puffy today, a sunburned sweaty Michelin Man who wears the same shirt almost every day. He says he'll always encourage the guys to write. "You gotta write...you gotta write," he intones. Cut to Paul, arms crossed, thinking he should've paid more attention when his grade-school teacher tried to make him remember that really long, unpronounceable 26-letter word. Never one to shun the spotlight, Erik-Michael shouts out that there's another song, news that Mini-Lou greets with dread and disbelief as Jacob starts strumming again. Ashley yawns, Erik-Michael sniffs his armpit and Bryan Chan just giggles a little. What a dynamic group of young leaders. In the confessional, Erik-Michael says he'll always question his selection. "I feel like I'm filling the Latino quota for Lou," E-M pouts. "Like I'm just the 'token Latino' kid that has to be in the group... but he said I'm not, and that it's totally based on talent." So Erik, what you're saying is, you actually asked Lou if you are the token Latino cast member? Interesting choice. Why have such enormous lips if they don't help you suck it up and go with the flow? Lou giggles and says, "Heh-heh. You said 'member' and 'suck' in the same paragraph." Jacob takes over the action, telling us Erik wanted to write a song that's "a theme about what we are going through," and that writing it together brought them closer. This one's called "Finally." The only lyrics we hear are: "Finally // we're given the chance // to show our light // The time that we spend." Off to the side, Trevor is trying to mouth the words, but like the sidekick-twice-removed that he is, he clearly doesn't know any of them. When they stop, we see Mini-Lou staring dazed into the distance. "Cool," he says, bored. Paul looks at the floor, probably wishing E-M and Jacob would drop through it.
"Why did Erik go to sleep?" whines Jenny, who's got Jacob trapped on the telephone. "He's freakin' tired," Jacob answers. Jenny complains that Erik's been mean lately, but Jacob reminds her that what they're doing is more important and Erik's just trying to focus. "By no means am I trying to rush him," Jenny says, doodling J+E 4EVER on a napkin and writing "Jenny Estrada" in nice cursive. "I never expected to click with someone the way I clicked with him," she tells a totally disinterested Jacob. He then has an epiphany: "I'll leave him a note, or something, to tell him you called." She thanks him. Yes, that'll certainly do the trick, since paper doesn't crumple or burn and certainly never gets mysteriously lost in the shuffle.
Mike and Ashley are pointing the Man Van toward Cori's garage, nudge nudge. Mike reminds us that Cori is very attractive. "We are competing... but it's fun competition, just seeing who can make her laugh the most." They park outside Cori's house and follow her to her back door as she tells them, "It's gonna smell like cat food for a second, but then it'll pass, okay?" Omar notes, "That's how a lot of porno movies begin." Ashley jokes that it's fine -- Mike also smells like cat food. "Yeah... Friskies, baby," Mike doesn't say, but should have.
In Cori's bedroom, Mike and Ashley sit on the bed and Cori stands before them, about to perform. Mike drools in anticipation until he realizes it's just a vocal performance. He informs us that Cori's trying to be a solo artist, and what follows is the most pathetic display in the history of Making the Band, and that's up against some pretty stiff ("Teehee!" snickers Lou) competition. Not only does Cori lack rhythm, she's painfully off key and shows no sign of any talent -- raw, burnt-to-a-crisp or otherwise. The words are special. Let's enjoy them together.
I don't know what to do.
I never even did anything to you.
I can't help it that they think I'm fly.
Well I can't turn it off, I don't want your guy.
No no no, it wasn't my idea
For him to look at me.
No, no, no....
... "No, no no!" I shout, shaking my head, my hand covering my shocked gaping mouth. If Mini-Lou knew her, he must be coaching her -- which, judging by this display, is about as astute as swearing you can turn Mike Tyson into a figure skater. Cori even tries flipping her hair around and looking sultry, but it only adds to the inanity. To keep from laughing out loud, Mike and Ashley make her stuffed animals dance and I enjoy that more than the entire episode so far. As we see Ashley try desperately not to register any facial expression, his voice-over says, "I do like the added attention of girls. It's tough when there's a pretty girl wanting to spend time with you on a friendship level." Mercifully, the scene ends. We cut to the farewells. Ashley lies that he had a great time, hugging Cori. Then Mike hugs her. Then Ashley hugs. Mike hugs. Omar hugs his City of Angels tape. Ashley hugs. I hug my Michelob. Ashley gives Cori a long fern frond and hugs her. Ashley hugs again. Omar squeezes the Charmin. Cori actually takes the fern frond, holds it up to her head and says, "Hey look, I'm an Indian!" In this instant, she reminds me of Ralph Wiggam on The Simpsons -- you know, when he says "I'm Idaho!" or "Sleep! That's where I'm a viking!" Smartly, the camera guy cuts away before either guy rolls his eyes, retches, or asks about her wigwam. In the car, Mike says, "She's seventeen. I was seventeen two years ago and I still feel ten years older than her." Contributing to the Think Before You Speak file, Ashley goes, "I feel ten years older than you, man." Oh, Ash. Don't try to be funny; you fail. Mike tries to redeem Cori, saying she's one of "those girls" that acts really stupid and ditzy but really isn't at all. He does at least admit the song she wrote was rather terrible. "Oh yeah, that 'fly' song?" Ashley asks. "That was so funny." And Cori has officially struck out swinging.
Ashley is meeting Shelli, his girlfriend, who he's thrilled will be coming to Orlando to check out this whole boy-band thing. He sits an E.T. stuffed animal on a garbage can, holding a sign that says "Shelli," and he coerces the crowd to shout "Hi Shelli!" in unison when he gives the signal. They do; she rolls her eyes and then hugs her boyfriend, pointing out that he is indeed weird. "At least he wasn't late to the airport," sniffs Carrah, sitting at home watching. Shelli's clad in a skirt that barely covers her rear-end, and knee high boots. I'm thinking Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Then Ashley says something that sounds strange: "I like my girlFRIEND more than anybody I've ever met in my life." He uses exactly that emphasis. Curious. He continues to say she's the most awesome person, a true lover and best friend rolled into one breasted package. In the parking garage, Ashley kisses her slowly and then whoops, "How good did THAT feel? Woooooo!"
In the Man Van, Mike's telling everyone that by this time, Shelli must have arrived. Ikaika says he can't wait to meet her. "You've seen that picture, right?" Mike asks, knowingly, adding that he's gonna walk right up to Shelli and give her a huge damn hug. What the... ?!? Stop with the hugging, please. Sheesh. When Shelli and Ashley do arrive at the house, everyone's already there and Ashley introduces Jacob as "Jakey," which makes me laugh. He introduces Jacob's brother Brian, too -- apparently, he's visiting too, but no one cared enough to feature it. Mike gives Shelli -- wait for it! -- a bear hug.
Too voyeuristic to give Ashley and Shelli a moment alone, the camera films them through a mirror in Ashley's bedroom. They're making out, then he goes to work on her neck, then she returns the favor. "Other girls have liked me, but I wanted to wait for the right person," he says in voice-over. Cut to them getting in bed at night. Ashley points out that even though he's only eighteen, and hasn't met everyone in the world (really?), there's a lot to be said for young love. Mike tucks them both in; Ashley pokes his head out from the covers to check that Mike's really gone, and resumes preparations for a nude romp.
While Jacob's brother Brian plays on the computer, Mike gabs with Cori on the Bat Phone. "I haven't seen you all weekend," he says, and she giggles and asks if they're feeling Cori withdrawal. Insert sex joke here. She probably asks about Ashley, but we can't hear -- we just see Mike passing the phone to Brian. "Rip on that," Mike says, but Brian has no visible personality so he instead just sits there holding the phone like a useless lump of flesh. "Tell her Ashley says hi," Mike whispers, and Brian repeats it. Cori asks Brian where Ashley is, and he pauses. "He's lying in bed with his girlfriend. Say it!" Mike laughingly urges Brian, who obliges and repeats that sentence to Cori. "Girlfriend?" she asks, stunned. "Oh man." Click. She hangs up, and Mike cracks up. That'll teach Cori to prefer Ashley to him. Jacob laughs so hard he falls sideways out of his chair. This is not to be mocked, mostly because I've done that before and feel a sudden, if fleeting, kinship with Jacob.
McDonald's wants to sell me salad in a glass. Not even for Monopoly Game Pieces would I eat salad in a glass.
Hip-hop music. Fireworks. Lou. An Orlando nightclub. Jabba is taking his droid slaves to a concert -- Little J and Phoenix Stone. I thought a phoenix stone might be a painful male medical condition, but the editors tell us Mr. Stone is a former Backstreet Boy -- so, we're both right. As we hear what the closed-captioners call "uptempo dance music," we see several instruments on stage and only two people, neither of whom are fooling around with those silly music-making tools. Ashley muses that Shelli probably perceives this Orlando thing as a chance for him to meet gorgeous women and have the time of his life, meeting temptation at every corner. "It's gotta be tough for the person that's left behind," he says. Carrah calls me. "Didn't I cover all this shit last week?" she asks. In lighting that's almost as dim as he is, Ashley looks oddly like Val Kilmer.
Shelli watches the guys rehearse, which Ashley thinks is good for her so she knows it's not all parties and girls and jolly good times. Forgetting she's on camera, Shelli winces when she watches the group dance. Ranger Marc stops them and tells then they're dragging today. "You all sounded like [shit], basically," he says. "You sounded terrible, and there's a reason for that." Indeed there is -- it's called lack of talent. Paul posits that their lackluster sound is because they stayed up too late, and Marc agrees. Now, wait a second, Marc and Lou took the guys to that concert -- it's hardly fair to then turn around and blame the guys for being out late. Hypocrisy walks out and bitch-slaps Marc across the cheek. "Stop it!" Marc whines. "I get enough of that from Lou!" For the zillionth time, Marc asks the guys to choose between career or chicks. Cut to Shelli. Cut to Ashley. Cut to Paul. Cut it out.
On the Bat Phone with Erik, the ultra-dense Jenny says she'd love to come over for a quick hello, if "hello" means "shag." She offers to "come over, see you, suck on your bottom lip and leave." If I got a cheesecake every time I heard that one, I'd be 500 pounds and working with Richard Simmons. But Erik is not so worldly. "Excuse me?" he asks. "Friends don't suck on people's bottom lip." Jenny says, "I do," cementing her status as a confused, whining, desperate floozy while her Herizon bandmates hastily hide their mouths. Erik repeats himself: "Friends don't suck on people's bottom lip!" So parents, talk to your kids about lip-suckage before they get Hoovered by the wrong crowd. The More You Know. Erik-Michael tells us he doesn't need a girlfriend or companion right now, but for Jenny "no sucking" means "try harder." So she exclaims, "I poured out my heart to you!" and waxes poetic about how he stuck out right away like a sore thumb. "Because I'm hispanic?" E-M asks. Jenny says no -- he was the only one who acted "real" with her, who was simply himself around her, and she offers to drive all the way out there for him. "I don't want you to," Erik says, speaking for all of us.
Thus, of course, Jenny's car comes roaring up the O-Town driveway. It's obvious that this brief snippet occurred some other time and they just want it to look like Jen disobeyed her lord and master. She and Erik stand outside hashing things out, and he's in a navy t-shirt -- not the Yankees jersey from the phone conversation. Maybe "Yankees" sounded too provocative. But, back to it: Jenny tells Erik-Michael that "I've already crossed... I've been somewhere with you, and I feel what it feels like. Why would I want to go back?" Um, to regain your self-respect? Just a thought. Jenny tells Erik she's just trying to show him how she feels because he just doesn't understand at all. In a voice-over, E-M tells us Jen's shown nothing but emotional distress since they met. Jenny asks, "How can you feel something and then ask someone to pretend it never happened?" I bet Lou's faced that question a million times, but in a legal context. Erik tells Jen that nothing can come of their brief relationship, but he'd like to build a friendship instead as he concentrates on making the final five. Jenny storms off, crying. "I'm sorry," Erik calls after her. "I don't really know what I'm saying sorry for, but I'm sorry." It really isn't his fault Jenny doesn't understand rejection, unless his giant lips made it impossible for her to understand his many entreaties for her to back off.
Jacob's confessional tells us he saw Jenny storm into the house, cursing Erik and ranting and raving about him. He hears Jenny call Erik a "Spic," and realizes she isn't joking or apologetic. "Maybe she meant 'spic'tacular," theorizes Omar. "Or fantaspic," I suggest. But it's not excusable to use such terms, and deep down, Omar and I know Jenny's a hateful and bitter little honky.
The part looks seamless, but Erik's back in the Yankees jersey, so... who knows what the time frame was here. Jacob and Jen are talking in the hallway, and he's scolding her. "Well...... he said nasty things also," Jenny says feebly, but Jacob's having none of it because he didn't hear that, he only heard Jenny hurl a racial slur. And if Erik did say anything equally nasty, Bunim-Murray clipped it out to make Jenny look even more irrational, although she was doing fine without their help. "Okay, we're all joking around in there, and of course when you're angry you say things that are stupid," Jenny tries to reason. Jacob demands an apology, but Jenny stands there silent. "You want me to apologize to him? For saying that?" she asks, dumbfounded. Jacob tells her Erik will definitely know about it, whether she says she's sorry or not. Jenny says she doesn't care, and Jacob asks her to leave. "He's the family in this house," Jacob tells her. "None of the guys, whether they're mad at Erik or not, will stand for that. Jacob recalls that Jen just stood there, glaring, as though he was being unreasonable. "I was like, 'yeah, that's my brother you said that about, and yes it does offend me,' " Jacob tells us. Jacob's actual brother might be a little confused by that, but -- wait, my bad, no one cares whether his actual brother is still visiting.
Jenny sits on the kitchen counter and tells Erik she called him a Spic in the heat of the moment, and that she didn't mean it. Erik tells us he thinks she's spouting bullshit. Jenny tries to order him into a serious discussion, but Erik insists he has guests over (umm, who? Jacob's brother?) and doesn't want to talk. He walks away. "She could've called me an idiot... she could've called me anything she wants, but she used a racial term, and that shows her character." Jenny is no longer allowed to penetrate this Testosterone Zone.
Ashley is escorting Shelli back to the airport. "I was so excited when I came, and now I'm so sad," Shelli moans, sounding pathetic and about six years old. In case we don't get it, the chosen background music plays, "It's difficult to say goodbye...." Ashley says right now, Shelli is It for him. As she prepares to board, her voice-over reveals she's worried the boy-band will change him. "But I'm willing to like see him through this totally," she says eloquently, vowing to be like so by his side whenever he totally like needs her to not be like so far away, and shit. Ashley's philosophical about it -- if it isn't meant to be, he says, then it won't happen. But he thinks he was fated to meet Shelli, and that they'll make it though. Completing the symmetry with Paul and Carrah in last week's episode, Ashley stares morosely out the window at Shelli's plane. "Goodbye," moans the singer in the background. "Walk away... time to say... goodbye." A three-hanky episode, eh? Well... okay, it's a three-hanky episode, minus the part about needing three hankies.
week we get record contracts and an ashamed stepfather. Gather the whole family around the television, because this is the one episode parents and children must see. Unless that saucy Stone Phillips is on NBC.