Entertainment Magazine

Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition: If It’s Miss Asia Monet Ray Back In Da Hizzle, Then It’s Diva Week Fo’ Shizzle.

By Danthatscool @DanScontras



All I know is that if Mama doesn’t get served some of that cake pretty soon, every one of those kids is going home.




Pardon me while I unleash a Bucket of Sass all up in your face. You might wanna take notes.




How ’bout Asia’s Mom and those stilettos? Bitch probably doesn’t even own flip flops.




OhMyGod. Asia? This calls for three hair bows AND a glitter headband.




Yeah. I’m all set with that one, thank you.




Seriously. What happened to you people while I was in Pittsburgh?




Plus I think I read on TMZ that her Mom bitch slapped JLo or something. I forget. Crap, they’re fierce.


Girl, pleez.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

You better pop off those Hello Kitty acrylics and make sure yo’ wiglet is sewn on real tight, because the Battle of the Mini Divas is about to go down.

And while you’re at it, you’re probably also going to need some protective eyewear and a bicycle helmet.  Maybe even a medical waiver.  And definitely something sparkly.

Because this week was Diva Week on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition.

And Miss Asia Monet Ray was back in the hizzle to spell it out for you.  

D-I-V-A.  All in caps.  In glitter glue.

With only five tiny dancers remaining, the coffee pot was really starting to percolate now and both the Moms and the kids were feeling the pressure as they filed in for this week’s mini challenge.  Especially when they came face to face with Abby Lee Miller and her pink boa.

Because any time you pull out the pink boa, you’re pulling out the Big Guns.

The theme:  Divas.  Sassy ones.

The skill:  Performance.  Because that’s what Diva’s do.  Duh.

The challenge:  Diva Dance-Off.  Oh, yeah.  It is SO on.

The number of times that Rachelle Rak will probably stand up and chew on some produce during the judging portion of this week’s extravaganza:  I can’t count that high without a calculator.  And I still can’t believe she can trademark ‘Apple Bite.’


As soon as the kids heard the word ‘Diva’ they got all excited.  Because kids love being all sassy and stuff.  Especially Honey Bow Bow JoJo, who was clearly bred in some underground laboratory solely for the purpose of wearing reflective hair ribbon and being fierce on the playground.  This was gonna be her week.  That’s what she said.

(Spoiler Alert:  More than you know, honey.  More than you know.)

The winner of this week’s Dance-Off Challenge would get to choose their dance routine and then hand off the next choice to the next dancer…and so on and so on down the line.

Like a Diva Chain.  Which set me up with so many jokes in my head that I can’t remember any of them right now, except for the dirty ones.

With a flip of her Big Gun boa, Abby announced that they would be dancing off against the Ultimate Diva.  The Diva’s Diva.  The Diva of all Divas.  The biggest Diva in the history of Divadom.  Wait for it…

Divas to the Dancefloor Drumroll, please.

Asia Monet Ray!  Come on down and show these little wannabes how you do, mmmkay?

Boom.  Boom.  Front flip.  Pow.

Last season’s booty poppin’ breakout star (…and recent Dance Moms SassyPants…) was back to get the party started.  And she had taken down her signature pumpkin donut hair bun on the way to the studio, so you knew she meant business.

Asia don’t play when she loses her bun.  I whip my hair, bitch.

One by one Asia faced off against the girls until only Kalani and McKaylee remained standing.  When the Diva Dust finally settled, Kalani threw enough glitter and shade to win the contest and the other girls took their place on the Diva Chain.

Side note:  Kalani’s Mom Kira kept the whole Fake Kristie Ray thing pretty low key during this week’s challenge, most likely because she knew the real Kristie was backstage somewhere getting ready to flap those hoop earrings around if anyone tried stealing her identity on national television.  You don’t mess with JLo’s shiz.  You just don’t.


Isn’t that right, Yvette?

After coming to the realization that our public school systems don’t even teach history anymore (…Marie Antoinette who?  Cleopatra who?…) the dances were assigned and everyone headed off to rehearse and Google ‘Name Some Famous Divas from History’ on their pink iPads.

Seriously.  Do they still make encyclopedias?  There’s a cigar bar in the financial district that I swear used to be a library.

Kalani had played it safe and given herself a sassy jazz Movie Star routine during the Diva Chain, choreographed by the guy I mistook for a Harlem Globetrotter in a previous episode.  As Victor Rojas tried to bring out her inner Sasha Fierce, Abby strolled in and voiced her disappointment in Kalani not challenging herself with something more acrobatic.

Kalani squirmed a little.  Kira sat on her hands and tried really hard to not to go to her Kristie Ray dark place.  And then Victor shot a three pointer.   I have no idea who this guy really is.

For some reason that nobody could seem to fathom, JoJo had not only chosen a hip hop routine (…which she imploded on last time…) but also chose Trinity as her duet partner.  So basically she had set herself up with a style of dance that she was not comfortable performing and then picked the girl who had out danced her in a previous routine.

I think Mom is tying her bows too tight.

As choreographer Q Pittman balanced a tiny yellow beanie on his head and tried to figure out how to turn two young girls into Down N Dirty Divas without getting NBC’s  Dateline cameras involved, he somehow KaBoomCha KaPowie Booyeah’d the routine into a krunk-worthy piece of KaChowza PowZizzle.

I swear Dance and Cheer people talk in Klingon just to mess with my head.


Down the hall, Giaaaaanna had finally figured out who Marie Antoinette was in the big scheme of things and was now working on a Let Them Eat Cake routine, choreographed by Joyce Chittick.  I’m sure she knows her stuff, but Joyce has the same haircut as everyone who works at the Chico’s in my mall and I prefer my choreographers to have edgier coiffures.  But maybe that’s just me.

The coolest part about Giaaaaanna’s dance was that she got to flap a Cee Lo Green fat lady in church fan and use a real Betty Crocker cake as a prop.  Shut.  Up.

I know, right?  Eating AND dancing?  All the time?  At the same time?  Add free internet and that’s pretty much what Heaven must look like.

Giaaaaanna’s Mom Cindy was still holding onto that grudge over JoJo being in the competition for another week and was once again slouched back in her comfy chair like she was back home cleaning out all the old General Hospitals from the DVR.  You know she bawled like a baby during Luke and Laura‘s wedding.  You just know she did.

Plus, she’s from Philly.  L-O-V-E.

Due to an apparent rip in the space-time continuum, Victor Rojas was also in another room choreographing McKaylee‘s Queen Of The Nile routine at the same time.  Now I’m not sure If I remember this guy from the Harlem Globetrotters or Star Trek.

Mom Shari was all bug eyed and stressed out again about the dance, because they were from Nebraska.  And in Nebraska they only raise cows and corn.  And sometimes sheep.

But not Divas.  So this one was gonna be a challenge.

I’m thinking that Mom might also want to double-check that theory with Shania Twain to confirm whether or not country girls can actually be Divas, if you know what I mean.

Man, I Feel Like A Woman.

Finally, it was Showtime!  And Asia and Kristie Ray time!

Did you see them in the audience?  When they waved at me?  Because that’s totally what they did, you know.  Because JLo and I are tight.


Hey, Girlfriend!

Did you also see little mini-Asia Bella next to Mom?  Not many people know that Kristie and her husband (…who could bench press me with one hand while shaking up a GNC protein drink with the other, by the way…) are secretly creating an entire society of fierce little Miss Thangs as part of their long term goal of World Diva Domination.

It’s true.  She told me.  Because we’re tight.

Let’s Go!

My boy Kevin Manno was rocking yet another skinny suit and pointing around the stage like a traffic cop.  I keep telling you…Adam Levine better watch his skinny legs and back, because the Kevlar knows how to work the slim fit, too.

Richy Jackson was in another signature comic book vest and an armful of plastic watches.  His hair grows awfully fast, if I do say so myself, because I swear he has a different crop circle pattern on his head every week.

Miss Grown-Up SassyPants Rachelle was already werkin’ the judges’ desk like a theater prop before Kevin even finished the intros.  She was also basically wearing underwear and a vest, disguised by a bazillion silver studs.

Live It.  Want It.  Own It.  Bump-It.

Speaking of.  Giaaaaanna was up first with some major lift in her hair as she flapped her fan around and ended up cramming a fist full of cake straight into her face like she had just gotten out of a woman’s prison.  It was pretty hot.  And sloppy.  D-I-V-A.

Rachelle and Richy L-O-V-E’d it.  Abby, not so much.  Something about her shoes not matching her leg color and the prop guys not using the tasty frosting that Abby specifically requested from Cheesecake Factory.

Then it was down the Nile with McKaylee’s Cleopatra routine.  Two tear-away costume changes and a two finger wave from Richy and she was clearly safe for the week.

Of course, Rachelle stood up and showed McKayKay how the Egyptians used to werk a vanity mirror before Richy shoved her back in her seat again.  It’s called ‘Sass.’


Can you even imagine sitting next to Rachelle on an airplane?  I mean, really?

Kalani’s Movie Star dance was ok, but her DivaFace was more DisneyFace for a good portion of the routine.  And then Rachelle stood up again.

But Trinity and JoJo’s hip hop routine was when it really got good.

Clearly blinded by the dust that Trinity was kicking up as she hit each move wicked hahhhd, JoJo didn’t stand much of a chance against her partner.  Maybe it was the can of Lady Gaga soda wrapped in her bangs that was slowing her down.  I told her to stick with juice boxes, but she never listens.

As soon as they finished the dance, Rachelle was on her feet, channeling every Diva on the DVD box set.  She was testifying like Whitney.  She was spinning around like Patti LaBelle.  She was giving us Celine Realness.

That crazy bitch even threw her white fur coat across the room at Trinity like it was Holy Water.  Like some shot putter at the Drag Queen Olympics or something.

I don’t know if she was trying to knock JoJo down or what…but it was a true D-I-V-A moment.  And a middle finger to PETA.

Once Kristie Ray’s husband finally rushed the stage and restrained Rachelle with a few of those buckle straps that nobody can chew through, it was down to eliminations.

Kalani and JoJo ended up in the Bottom Two.  No real surprises.

In the end, JoJo was sent away to pack up all her hair bows and hit the road.

It was not her day.  She cried.  Everyone cried.

Good luck to JoJo.  And good luck to Rachelle trying to get her coat back from Trinity.

And then there were four.

Diva Week was over.  Go home, please.  Nothing to see here.

Miss Asia has left the building.

Everybody wave buh bye now.


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