Hit me, Bitch.
Hire me, Seacrest.
Feed me, Please.
Commit me, Now.
Werk me, Girl.
Shoot me, Mom.
You’d better stock up on batteries, bottled water and a few cans of Spam.
It’s the End of The World, people. Or at least the Dance World.
Now I’m no authority on Armageddon. Or even Abbygeddon for that matter.
But based on my current research, I can’t imagine that when the world really does finally come to and end that the apocalyptic event could possibly be any more over the top than this week’s Survivor-themed Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.
End of the World, I tell you. Abby Style.
Picture Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome meets your niece’s dance recital meets a rather heated PTA meeting that for some reason Jennifer Lopez was attending.
It was like that. I swear.
After last week’s unexpected and tragic death of everyone’s favorite token Dancer Boy Zack, it was down to a room full of 8 girls and 8 Moms.
And before some hysterical tweenie bopper goes and starts a memorial Facebook page for my skinny buddy…calm down. There’s a slim chance that Zack is still alive and only got cut from the competition.
But I can’t say for certain. Based on the hysteria that ensued at the end of last week’s competition, it was hard to tell if ZackAttack was just kicked off the Island or crushed by some theater light rigging that may have fallen from the rafters.
There was so much crying and confusion during last week’s credits it was kind of like they were subliminally previewing this week’s Apocalypse.
So he might still be alive. Don’t give up hope, or take his picture out of your Trapper Keeper just yet. On General Hospital nobody stays dead forever, so maybe the same rule applies to Reality TV. Look at David Hasseloff.
Regardless, it was down to 8 girls and 8 Moms. So you do the math. It was tense before the first round even got off the ground.
This week Kevin Manno was styling in his new v-neck sweater, shaking it up a little from his usual banker vest as he introduced the gang to Abby Lee Miller and their newest challenge.
I still can’t put my finger on what it is about this guy that makes him so endearing, but I may need his face on a t-shirt soon. He is just so into it. Thumbs up. Little wink. That click he makes with his mouth that you usually only hear when bad girls snap their gum in front of the liquor store.
I still don’t know how they do that. And I’ve tried to practice when no one is looking. You know, when you bite down on your gum and it makes about 27 snaps and you sound like the kind of chick who would cut somebody if they texted your man.
Anyway. TMI.
So this week was all about the End of the World, with a focus on the technique of Survival. Fighting to stay alive. Showing how hungry you are to win. And maybe even eating bugs.
All the things you need to know before you go out and audition for A Chorus Line.
Guest choreographer Frank Gatson put the girls through their 45 minute drill before unleashing them on Abby.
Poor tidbit Asia had some trouble with the counts and the routine due to her young age and shrinky dink size. But cut her a little slack, mmmkay?
Everything on Asia, except that sassy pants Divatude, is literally half the size of the other girls so she always has to really get that booty in gear to keep up with the crowd. This time she struggled and didn’t win the prize.
Top honors went to Hadley this time around, which made cuckoo Mom Yvette almost wet herself because the winner got to assign all the dancers to all the dances.
Let the hilarity ensue.
In lieu of an actual loony bin War Room, Yvette and Hadley plopped down and spread the dancers’ glossy head shots across the floor like they were sending soldiers to Iran.
Initiate Operation: Sabotage.
Yvette’s goal, aside from seeing how long she could keep a crazy smile on her face like some kind of psycho bitch staring contest, was to stick all the girls into their weakest dance styles and then sit back and watch the castle crumble.
And smile some more, of course. Why So Serious, Joker?
After confirming that everyone else was strategically set up to fail, Yvette and Hadley announced all their choices like they always do on Glee when they stick stuff up on the bulletin board. The resulting Mom aftershocks were exactly what you would have expected.
Erin and her comic book eyebrows had a few opinions on the decisions, and also wanted to know why nobody commented on how much she looked like she could be a Jersey Mob Wife. Love her.
Girlfriend was werkin’ that jungle print. Either give her a fur coat and some Newport Lights, or get her a station at the hair salon. Stat. Meow.
Then it was off to rehearsals.
Hadley, of course, had somehow mysteriously gotten a solo number this week.
I know, right? Go figure.
As she and Bond girl Kitty McNamee tried to figure out how the last person on Earth would do a backwards something or other, Yvette clung to the edge of the couch like one of Andy Cohen‘s Real Housewives. I would love to make a tiny incision and look inside Yvette’s head to see what’s really going on in there.
Just once. Because sometimes I swear she thinks this is Bravo TV.
After driving Kitty into rehab, Yvette took a little stroll down the hall to poke her nose and finger into Kristie and Asia’s world.
Initiate Operation: Sabotage Phase II.
I guess there is some non-stalking clause in the Dance Mom world where you are not supposed to get all up in other kid’s rehearsals, because the split second Yvette and her crazy face showed up at Asia and Brianna‘s turf, it was on.
Like Donkey Kong.
Yvette said she was just there to “observe.” And then Boom.
It was Kristie and her JLo earrings vs. Yvette and her whacko smile.
MmmHmm. Bitches were all up in each other’s face like OhNoSheDin’t and pointing and screaming and almost knocking the poof outta Kris‘s hair as she tried to intervene.
Hit Me. Hit me. Move on. Move on. Earrings flapping everywhere. Crazy smiles everywhere. I got up and slapped my television twice just so I could participate. That gum snap thing would have come in so handy right about now.
Then of course, in the middle of the OhNoSheDin’t, all the kids start crying and here we go. Kristie said the whole thing was F***d up and next time Lifetime is gonna need handcuffs and a medic.
Oooooh Girl. Kitty got claws.
After a few more threats to take the whole thing outside during their weekly BeDazzling get-together, it was finally Showtime.
Richy Jackson was just as fierce as last week, complete with a few more Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy moves and a little girly cat scratch fight with Robin Antin who had lost her voice, most likely from droning on and on about how she gave birth to the Pussycat Dolls. Did you know that? She did. For realz.
Abby had somehow made it out of hair & makeup without anyone noticing that her eyelashes were on upside down. Seriously. There was some major Betty Boop going on over there. Google it.
Kevin was in his new Adam Levine slim fit suit (…umm…a little snug down there, dude…) and was psyched to get the party started.
First was the Bad Girl Barbie with a gun number. Lexine, Elisabeth and Amanda swung their neon plastic rifles around while defending some futuristic city from looters.
Sob story Elisabeth didn’t do so well, so you knew we would be guaranteed some form of waterworks by the end of the show.
Hadley’s solo was a hot roadkill mess. She got called out for laying down with sickle feet before the number even began, and you know how Abby hates them sickle feet. Yvette stood in the wings dancing like those crazy Toddlers and Tiaras Moms do behind the judges table. Work it, Smoochie.
Richy couldn’t even process the dance mentally or emotionally, and had to ask Hadley WTF he just sat through. You could almost hear Yvette hyperventilating off-stage. Or maybe she was just winded from having done the entire routine as well.
As everyone ripped into Hadley, the other Moms were all glued to the monitor in the Green Room, like they do on Celebrity Apprentice. Seeing Operation: Sabotage fail in front of everyone was like a gift from the Dance Gods to Kristie.
I’m pretty sure one of the other Moms had to sit on her so she didn’t rush the stage and do a field goal touchdown dance right in Yvette’s face.
Hit me.
Jordyn and Madison‘s sickle footed spaceship duet barely made it off the launch pad as well. I swear Abby can smell sickle feet from the other room.
It probably didn’t help that Jordyn’s Lost In Space dress kind of looked like a limp white hula hoop that needed a few more pumps of air. I get the concept, but it really did look like a ginormous white sausage link flapping around her butt.
Asia and Brianna had somehow managed to track down a tube of hopefully non-toxic adhesive and découpaged fabric and metal on half their faces for their Man/Machine routine. They busted it out, bitches.
Let’s just say that the whole sabotage thing backfired right up Yvette’s exhaust pipe.
Asia ended up killing the routine. She still had a load of work to do to compete with big girls. But for 47 pounds of Fierceness, she did just fine and ended up in the top with Lexine. Yeah…the top.
Take that, haters. Love it.
I also love when 9 year olds say that they have been training their whole life for this. Their whole life.
The mood in the Green Room was as tense and stiff as Erin’s eyebrows by the end of the competition. Yvette pretty much admitted to sending her own daughter to the slaughter house, and Kristie pretty much admitted to having the Best. Day. Ever.
Back on stage, Abby called out Yvette for her botched plan and Kristie somehow managed a somersault in that tight croco two piece suit.
And then Abby cut Elisabeth from the competition.
Que the waterworks.
Industrial sized.
Elisabeth had the Mother of all Meltdowns. The Mutha.
It apparently really was the End of the World.
She ran off stage. She ran out of the building. She sobbed and screamed. She ran back into the building. She collapsed on the floor like she just took a sniper’s bullet. She screamed all the way through the credits.
Hadley was horrible. Hiccup. Wah. It should have been her. Hiccup. Wah.
Insert any random spoiled girl who thinks she’s prettier than she really is whine here and you get the picture: _______________________.
Her screeching “I don’t give a crap” is now my new go-to response whenever people bother me at work.
Erin tried to sum it up with “You win some, you learn some” which didn’t even make sense. But in her defense, it was partially drowned out by Elisabeth’s wailing. I do not wanna be anywhere near Barbie when she gets dumped at the prom this year.
Seriously. Get your s*** together, girl.
And then there were 7.
