American Idol: Two More Contestants Found Murdered
So the judges now have one magical veto they can use just once. Deal with it, America! They didn't use it last night, though. So poor Jasmine Murray and Gloria Estefan were sent home, weeping.
So, first, this new rule. Ryan all skinny and stiff there like an ironing board in his black suit, delivered the news dramatically. "Chris Daughtry... Jennifer Hudson... Michael Johns... Tamyra Gray..." What did all these people have in common? They were all voted off glowing, spinning Shit Island too soon. Whatever. Tamyra Gray, honey chile I didn't watch your season. Michael Johns? No. J Hud? Thank God she didn't go further, otherwise she wouldn't have the Oscar. Chris Daughtry? Whatever, dink. I'm glad they showed the brief clip of him looking so shocked when he got eliminated. That was a tremendous Idol moment when it happened, lo those nineteen years ago. Anyway, the judges can now save one of those too-early eliminees with their Flaming Golden Veto. They have ONE OPPORTUNITY (spaghetti on Paula's sweater already) to throw a Randy Jackson-shaped lifesaver to a contestant, to give them one week's reprieve, until they are hauled off out back and shot, their corpse left to molder and bake in the unforgiving Burbank sun. Then next week, two people are eliminated.
It's a fine rule, whatever. So who will they use it on? Well, certainly not the first two fools sent packing, Jazzy and Zombie Selena. My guess is that Alexis will get an early vote-off but will be saved when Simon stuffs Kara down her throat, thereby making her puke up all the Anti-Votes that the other dimensional Negatrons cast to get her voted off. That's just science.
Let's see... Let's see... [rattling around in box of swizzle sticks, pretzel Goldfish, and loose change that is my memory from last night]... What else happened? Oh they showed the kids in their huge mansion. The increasingly annoying Matt Giraud was like "I'm the prince!" No. No you are not. You are Matt Giraud, and you are on a TV talent competition that you will never win, then you will just be Matt Giraud again. Never forget that. At the end of the video they were all waving and yelled "Season 8!" And it sorta sounded like "Section 8!" and I thought it would be funny if it was just a really fancy housing project. So I guffawed and that's a good story. How I made myself laugh dimly, late at night, while I watched American Idol, still reeling from having met THE FUCKING HOUSEWIVES OF NEW YORK CITY, just hours before.
Also: Remember when everyone was worried about the group numbers and about how Scott the Blind Guy would maneuver them? Well, problem solved. He was led around gently by Alexis. It looked fine and barely noticeable and whatnot, so good on the choreographer for figuring that out. (It should be noted: The 'choreographer' for the group numbers, when all the contestants just aimlessly mill about the stage while making up song lyrics, is just an old lady from the Los Feliz Senior Center. This is her Monday afternoon activity. At 4 o'clock, Bernice comes in the van and takes her back home.) Here's a question for people who aren't actively destroying their memory cells: Do they do group numbers until the end of the season? Like are there three person group numbers? I honestly don't remember. Illuminate me.
So, that was that. Jorge and Jasmine hoped they'd get saved. Megan Joy whispered audibly to Jasmine as they hugged "The judges love you, you'll be fine" or something. She was wrong. So they were dragged by their hair outside, where they felt the air and saw the cars puttering by, making the sky a dusty brown. This was it, these lives of theirs. A producer put duct tape over their mouths and told them to kneel. Jasmine obliged and the producer cocked his pistol. Jorge suddenly sprang up and tried to run, but the producer took aim and hit him square in the back. Jorge fell over onto the pavement and was still, forever. Before she went, Jasmine knew one important thing. It was a truth so big it was like meeting God. It was a truth as old as trees and sand. And it warmed and filled her but also made her sad. But she knew it, just before she skipped this mortal plane. She knew it. She should have sang an uptempo song.
Bang.