Excuse me? Who you calling a big fat cheater? It’s the pants that make my junk look like this, thank you.
Lawd. You’d think with all these mirrors in here, somebody would actually use one once in awhile.
Girl, pleez. Do not make me unleash my Nia Face on you. I ain’t no cheater.
Forget that. Check it out…I’m just about to unleash my crazy face on somebody’s big ol’ a**.
Why did she get to wear the green dress? You’d think just once I could be the star. This sucks.
Scandalous, I tell you.
Did she or didn’t she? It was the question that nearly brought down the ALDC.
Forget voter fraud, frivolous Wall Street stock scams and all the drama surrounding the new Facebook Timeline. We’re talking scratched CDs here, people.
This week, Dance Moms…which pretty much felt like an hour of filler squished between 95 commercials for the premiere of that hot mess Bristol Palin reality show…was so chock full of cheating accusations, crazy faces and whining that I’m surprised they found the time to actually get to the dancing part of the show.
After bringing home a steamer trunk full of trophies, plaques and dusty Zombie couture, Abby Lee Miller was obviously looking for another victory the next time they hit the stage. The troupe was a big hit at last week’s Energy Dance Competition, and now it was time to see if lightening could strike twice.
But you know the rules, by now. First was the Pyramid of Shame, formerly known as the Duh, It’s Not Rocket Science – Maddie Will Be On Top Again Pyramid.
Since the lowest spots on the Pyramid are basically reserved seating for any offspring sprung from Kelly’s loins, Brooke and Paige were scotch taped right down at the bottom. Again.
Neither of them had really done anything wrong other than unintentionally share their mother’s last name. Abby has basically chosen them as sacrificial lambs in her Anti-Kelly campaign, and not even Paige’s still too old for her age haircut could save them.
Paige is a patootie, but somebody backstage keeps curling her up into a 1940′s starlet, and she’s starting to look like Brooke’s older sister just back home from college with no boyfriend and a baby.
Both of them were on probation, with big Dynamo label maker “Probations” stuck to their photos like those internet black boxes they put over the eyes of anonymous hookers, but only lower.
The bottom row was finished off with Chloe’s face, who became another lamb innocently sent to slaughter. Last week Mom Christi had yanked Chloe from rehearsals to take her to the doctor, the chiropractor and that new Avengers movie, and Abby wasn’t happy at all.
As previously discussed in depth here in past weeks: Unless something that should be on the inside of your body is suddenly showing on the outside, there is never a good reason to skip rehearsal.
Not even Robert Downey Jr., thank you. He’s dreamy, but you’re gonna have to wait for the Director’s Cut Blu-ray. Sorry. Now back to the studio.
Middle of the pack was set aside for Nia and Mackenzie, who let out a big excited gasp right through one of the gaps that will soon be filled with a big girl tooth. We love her.
Mack Attack just needs more ballet classes, and maybe one of those Simon light up games from Toys ‘R Us that help increase your memory skills. Abby would like her to make it through an entire number without spacing out or leaving the stage before Adele finishes the song.
Speaking as someone who couldn’t even remember to put shoes on at that age, I think she is doing just fine. Lay off, lady.
Nia just needs to keep being Fierce. That’s my call, not Abby’s. I don’t really care what Abby thinks. I don’t even remember what she said.
Team Nia in yo’ face, bitches.
And sho nuff, lookie there…Maddie was on top!
Last time, even though the CD skipped during her performance, the Maddie Soul Train kept chugging away until the commercial break.
And that’s when the whole El Scandalo Thang started to percolate.
Word on the Mom Street was that Abby had put Maddie through rehearsals with a skipping CD and even gave the judges a bootleg scratcher as a guarantee that she would score highly. I guess the deal is that if your music has a big goober in the middle then that somehow gets you some kind of high score on the Pity Point scale. There must be ways to keep track of these kind of things though, otherwise I’m going to assume that everyone who ever entered a dance competition would tie their CDs to the mini-van trailer hitch like beer cans on a wedding day and show up ready for First Place.
Everyone just let that one stew for a bit longer while Abby handed out assignments.
The gang was headed back to yet another Energy Dance Competition, this time in Michigan. I could hardly wait to see that poorly lit, out of focus Power Point backdrop logo again. Not really sure why it bothers me so much, but it does. Get used to it, because every time we go to one of their events you’re gonna hear it again.
The group number was going to be a Silver Spoon theme. I immediately got all excited that maybe Ricky Schroder would be making a cameo since he seems to have a lot of spare time on his hands these days.
(I’ll pause here so the younger set can Google “Ricky Schroder” and see why the Silver Spoon reference is so hysterical. Gah…when did I get so old?)
But then I realized that Abby meant silver spoon like you’re born into a spoiled, gifted life with the spoon in your mouth. And we’re supposed to call him Rick now, anyway.
Nia, Maddie and Mack Attack all got the thumbs up for a solo number.
Maddie was doing a Helen Keller dance, which I won’t make a joke about because that would be in bad taste. I just hope they put crib guards up around the edge of the stage because it’s a long way down.
Nia was going to be channeling her Sasha Nia again, which I love, and doing a more mature dance. Looks like Abby has finally…finally…given up on her dreams of an Aunt Jemima Broadway Revival and Nia can now dance without an afro pick in her hair.
Holly was thrilled. She and Christi are tied for who has the best Proud Mom Face. I can’t decide.
Mack’s routine was a Daisy Chain number. While you’re Googling “Ricky Schroder” you might want to just take a quick drive-by and see what the porno definition for that term is all about. I really wish Abby had called it something else because…well…just because.
I know it was innocent enough and Abby just wanted to dress Mack up like a character from H.R. PufnStuf and let her roll around…but…just Google it.
And how about all my TV Land flashbacks this week? What’s up with that?
I’m dying to say something about some of the tight pants on selected Moms this week, too…but I’ve already dissed Helen Keller, slammed Rick(y) Schroder and talked pornography and we’re still on the Pyramid, so I’m not really sure when I’ve crossed the line.
Let’s just say that some of them camels need to put their shoes back on and leave it at that. If you get it, you get it.
Up in the Mom Perch, everyone was talking about how China makes pants so small this year and how Melissa ratted out Chloe for going to the movies. (Ok…I made up some of that. You figure out which part.) All the Moms ganged up on Melissa about the bootleg CD until she couldn’t sit still anymore.
Melissa bolted downstairs and burst into the duet rehearsal to confront Abby about the allegations of cheating.
Blah blah blah…Abby’s reputation. Blah blah blah…Abby’s good name. You can figure it out.
Abby swore she didn’t purposely nick or scratch anything, but I kept looking at her new Morticia Addams extra-long nails and I can totally see where she could slice off an entire song just trying to open the CD shrink wrap. As Melissa and Abby went a few rounds, the Moms were glued to the action like Chloe at the Avengers. I thought I even smelled popcorn.
The Ricky Schroder number was based around a prop. A ginormous prop.
Somewhere in Pittsburgh Abby had tracked down a massive 3 foot tall spoon that appeared to be made of solid lead. The poor girls could barely hoist it up over their heads.
After Maddie almost blew out her thoracic vertebrae trying to fling that thing around, Abby decided to take it home for private ice cream nights and replaced the prop with a smaller piece of flatware.
Throughout the rehearsals there were many…many…of those special Kelly “Abby hates my kids” moments that I won’t bother going into detail on. Same song. Different outfit.
By the time it came to finalizing the costumes, Kelly was firing on all 8 cylinders.
The individual and duet outfits weren’t too bad. Mack looked like a Springtime Muppet while Nia looked like Beyoncé tangled up in sailboat rope.
That group number on the other hand. Yikes.
The pastel dresses were just an odd combination of Sound of Music meets Nutcracker meets Easter Parade meets that Cult where everyone had the same hair and all married one dude.
The one with the uni-brow ladies.
Those dresses were bad.
I’m praying they’re not burned into my plasma like the freakin’ QVC logo. Seriously, as they argued and swapped colors and tried to get it together, I was expecting Anderson Cooper to burst in and do an exposé on the ALDC Compound.
Since Abby hates Paige, she stuck the poor thing with a dress 5 sizes too large, while Chloe was forced to squeeze into green sausage casing that almost collapsed her right lung.
Kelly went completely Kelly on that one. Twice, actually.
Finally it was time for the competition. We’ll speed this thing up since you’re not really here for the technical play by play anyway.
The duet was great. Abby said the two girls never danced together better than they did this time. Christi was scribbling like crazy in her program the entire time like the people who are always at the greyhound park keeping track on their racing forms. No score gets by this woman. I smell a spin-off….Bookie Moms.
The best part of the group number was the very end. If you freeze frame it and really study it, the scene pretty much sums up everything that Abby lives for…
Maddie standing tall and proud, silver spoon (…complete with newly added fancy bow…) held high over her head after clubbing all the other girls into unconsciousness. It was like the crazy caveman who beat down all his opponents for that one juicy piece of wooly mammoth meat. Last man…or dance girl…standing.
Check it out. I’m not lying. It was either a really strange coincidence, or Abby Lee Miller’s best subliminal jab into Kelly’s eye sockets ever.
They scored a second place even with baggy dresses and that creepy OB/GYN spoon, as did the duet.
Solos on the other hand…not so much.
MackAttack came in first place for the Preemie division after remembering where she was and keeping that big daisy on her head. She even got a little crown. It was pretty anemic by Toddlers & Tiaras standards, but it was her first one and she was poking her tongue every which way through all those endearing empty spots in her mouth. She is too cute.
But Nia and Maddie didn’t pull in the high scores that Abby wanted, so you can imagine the kind of mood Ms. Miller was in by the time Kelly went in for the kill. Kelly definitely needs to work on her timing if she ever expects to walk away from a fight with more than a black eye.
Everything spinning around in Kelly’s head all came out at once. The favoritism. The bad costumes. The whole hating my kids thing again. Same song. Different outfit.
Again.
It wasn’t their best fight, but I have faith. Kelly is a ticking time bomb and I’m living for the day when Abby starts tearing off her nails like she’s about to throw down on the Jerry Springer Show.
You already know she can toss a chair with one hand.
Say it with me:
Abby! Abby! Abby!
