Excuse me? I know you don’t want me to start swinging this stylishly on-trend ponytail all around.
I know I didn’t just spend three hours flat ironing my hair to have that bitch fire me for doing my job. Oh. Hell. No.
Yo Yo, Guido? Yeah. It’s me. I need your boys to drive by Walmart tomorrow and get all hoodlum on this loud Mom.
Umm, hello? I’m right here and I can totally hear you. Plus everybody knows Wednesday is Costco Day.
Girl, pleez. All I know is that not showing up to work yo’ job is straight up ratchet.
I know she’d get out of my damn seat a lot faster if I told her there were donuts at the front desk.
Oh, now you got the party started! One ponytail, ten fingers, two earrings, and the eyes? Who gon’ check me, Boo?
It’s like the old saying goes…
When the cat’s away, the mice will play.
Except that the cat is Abby Lee Miller. And the mice are all Dance Moms.
So it’s kind of the same, I guess.
And now that you mention it, these mice don’t really play. It’s more like they scream and shout and pop off and throw shade and generally just beat down on each other until someone loses an eye or storms out the door wailing “I’m Done.”
Again.
So, on second thought, maybe it’s really nothing like the old saying. At all.
Never mind. Moving on…
This week as everyone filed in and reported for dance duty, there was a little more room at the kraft services snack table because Abby Lee Miller was clearly MIA.
Gone, Abby, Gone. Nowhere to be found.
After an emotional week of stuffing her dead dog and coming to the realization that she would never be able to twerk it like Kristie Ray, Abby had gone into hiding.
Which meant that choreographer Gianna Martello was left running the asylum all by herself, with only an occasional assist from whoever that Rachel girl is who keeps showing up every few episodes to try and help shovel out that landfill of a front desk.
(Seriously. How has Hoarders not done an episode at the ALDC? Between the front desk and that fire trap Costume Cave? Aren’t they on the same network? Or is that A&E?)
Word on the street was that Abby’s Mom Maryen was ill and that Abby was down in Florida helping out. Nobody had any proof to back up that story, and Mom did seem fine last week when she got all Catholic School nun on Kelly‘s potty mouth right there in the audience before showtime. So who knows.
But regardless, Gia was all by herself. And freaking out a little bit.
There were routines to be choreographed, solos to be handed out and costumes to be ordered that were apparently being delivered on some slow boat from China, because Gia made it sound like the girls would all be dancing naked if she didn’t find the company Amex by noon.
And that’s how you can tell this show has become a Big Deal now.
Remember the first season when nobody knew who any of these people were and every week the Moms were all hot gluing Chiclets to last year’s gymnastic leotards like the pilgrims used to do? Back when the Moms used to all sew instead of swipe their iPhones? Remember those days?
Now they just buy costumes and tweet. Cuz they’re fancy like dat. Don’t be hatin’.
Gia knew that she would need some help, so she brought in some random dude named James to assist with choreography. I guess he must be a pretty big deal in that other studio on the other side of the couch because all the girls squealed a little bit and seemed pretty excited that Jimbo was in the hizzle.
Not as excited as they get when any of the dreamboat Nicks walk through the door, but I’m pretty sure Mackenzie still swallowed her gum.
We had to skip the Pyramid of Shame this week, though it wasn’t really clear whether Gia had misplaced the head shots or if only Abby is allowed to run that show.
Either way, it was directly to rehearsals for the group routine as the Moms all hit the Perch for front row seats to the Jill vs. JLo throw down. If you DVR’d the show and can only watch 45 seconds…watch this part and it will give you life.
JLo just wanted Asia to get a solo. She felt she deserved one since she kills every solo that she is ever given, thanks in part to her Inner Beyoncé and some seriously mad GotItFromHerMama booty popping skills.
Somehow the discussion instantly collapsed in on itself when Jill made a comment about Asia’s position on the last few Pyramids which JLo interpreted as a slam against her daughter being gone from the studio for outside opportunities.
We all know that the higher Jill’s Bump-It, the more self confidence she gains. It’s almost magical, really. And this week, it was definitely closer to Heaven.
Boom goes the F-Bomb.
Boom goes the JLo floor show.
Part Mime-In-A-Box. Part Flava Flav date night hot tub fight. Hands everywhere. Hair everywhere. Earrings everywhere. Even a little ambulance realness as JLo wailed OOhooooHOOooohOOOH! all around the room.
Love. Her.
And watch Melissa sitting over there trying not to laugh. You might want to work on your p-p-p-poker face a little, girlfriend. And don’t even try to make Holly giggle, because you know she was on the other side whispering “Don’t look at me” over and over again.
You’re a Hot Mess! No…YOU’RE a Hot Mess!
That scene instantly scored a spot in the time capsule.
In the middle of all the dramz, Christi hit up Kelly back home on her Sidekick to let her know the the coast was clear and that she should come back to the studio while Abby was gone. And come back quickly, which was easily accomplished since Kelly, Brooke and Paige clearly all live on the Starship Enterprise.
They must. I don’t know of any other way that human beings could have gotten to the ALDC that quickly unless they have own Star Trek transporter beam.
As soon as Kelly walked into the studio and saw Leslie still rubbing her dog butt on the carpet, it was on again with that Fill-In Mom.
Lemme break it down for you, in case you’re new.
JLo fights like a Real Housewife of Beverly Hills.
Leslie fights like a 2am school board meeting on basic cable access.
And that’s all you need to know.
When the dust settled, Gia had spoken to Abby and found out that Asia and Maddie were both doing solos this week when the gang all headed to Sandusky, OH for another Believe Talent Competition.
I’m dying to make a joke about an old Sandusky bus full of preschoolers, but I won’t. It would be in bad taste. HIGHsterical…but in bad taste. So look it up online.
But I will say that I do feel bad for all those factory workers who are are out of a job now since nobody probably wants an “I Heart Sandusky” Ohio Department of Tourism shirt anymore. At least not in little kids’ sizes.
Oh, snap.
Brooke figured that since she had been back in the studio for a full 24 hours now, maybe she could get the third solo, which was overload on Gia’s circuits. Hold that thought for now.
As Holly once again voiced her disapproval for Abby’s unprofessionalism, Melissa took a swig out of some drink that was blurred out on the television screen like naughty bits.
Guess the ALDC got denied its liquor license again.
The solo rehearsals were pretty uneventful, except for a visit from a girl affiliated with the Starlight Foundation, an organization that strives to improve the lives and health of kids and their families.
Melissa had hooked herself up with the Foundation and invited Mom Lori and her daughter Hannah into the studio to meet everyone. It was a nice moment that showed Melissa has a big heart and that you can’t always believe everything you read in a Gymboree chat room.
I did have to slap my forehead a few scenes later though, when Melissa made poor Hannah cry by reminding her that she was too ill to jump on a trampoline. I don’t think she meant it to come out the way it did, but it was awk…ward.
Abby continued her vague random check-ins, confirming via text and/or static filled cell calls that she was indeed back in Los Angeles doing…something.
She also found time to post a photo to her Instagram account that was clearly not taken at the bedside of anyone’s dying mother.
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I guess it could have been Abby and some hot nurse in the hospital cafeteria, but it definitely looked more like they were doing shots out on the Strip. Busted.
Abby also let it slip that if Gia helped choreograph Brooke’s bootleg solo, she would fire her a** when she got back into town.
Drama.
The final day before competition was also full of stress.
Leslie and Kelly rolled around in the mud again for a few hours arguing about who deserved to be on the Team. Leslie got a text from Abby saying that Payton could do a solo and that Brooke could go suck wind anywhere off the property.
If you squinted it looked exactly like the Friday morning after Thanksgiving when all those hood rat Moms were clubbing each other for cheap waffle irons.
Leslie called Kelly spoiled. Kelly called Leslie a hoodlum (…which I guess is different than the previously mentioned hood rat. I stand corrected…) and then got all OhNoSheDin’t when she called Leslie out for going to court for breaking a beer bottle over someone’s head.
Whoa. Wait. Stop. What?
You know what I’ll be Googling tonight.
And Jill was wearing white hot pants, which was probably the reason Holly had to take out her contacts and put on her glasses to stop the burning.
Jill. We’ve already had this discussion. Please.
Finally, it was Showtime!
Different location. Same drama.
Melissa tracked down Abby and put her on speakerphone, which is never good. When asked when she was coming back to Pittsburgh, Abby answered “When Brooke and Paige get the Hell out of my studio.”
Nice. Cue some crying. And then more Leslie and Kelly hilarity.
And right in the middle of it all, JLo walked across the room in some sheer flowing black Bitch Slap Ensemble like she was Celine crossing the Caesars stage to wave at poor people in the cheap seats.
Seriously. How much do we love her?
(JLo…not Celine. Though they do say her little circus concert was nice.)
And can we just give a quick shout out to Kristie’s outfit? Totz Gorg…in a non-creeper kind of way. Please don’t block me on Twitter now that we’re tight.
Brooke pulled it together and did a Gumby solo. Back bends, flips and that patented laying on her chin thing. Maddie dedicated her dance to Hannah, which was nice and Asia tore it up like the dance was some secret code for “Come At Me Bro.”
That’s how she do, mmmkay?
Gia must have used Kelly’s transporter beam to get the costumes all there on time because nobody danced in their skivvies, and the group number did kind of look like a Brownie troop from the future. Or at least to me. Just a little.
Everybody scored some sweet points and couldn’t wait to call Abby with the deets.
Except that a mysterious Mandy answered her phone. No Abby.
No clue who Mandy was. No clue where Abby was. No clue when she would be back.
Generally, just no clue.
Until next week, at least. Or maybe not.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
So sit down. And shut up.
And try not to get all hoodlum up in here.
That’s Leslie’s job.