LAST EDITED ON 09-10-03 AT 12:24 PM (EST)
Amanda: Well, here we are again. Unfortunately, Paranoid Hotel has settled into a routine with each of you doing more plotting than partying. So we tried to shake that up by reaching back for some drama that you could all relate to, a cornerstone of American life.
Amanda (CONTINUED): The producers thought that High School, a time you were all at your self-centered and obnoxious worst, would be the perfect setting to separate the Geek from the Popular Kids and create some tension. Dave, Alex, Amy and Tara . . . by running for Prom King and Queen, you reflected the classic American political process with campaign posters, a debate and a swim suit competition.
Alex: At least I had a campaign platform. It was “scary fun”.
Amanda (CONDESCENDINGLY): Of course it was. (SHE TURNS HER ATTENTION BACK TO THE GROUP) We haven’t done a satellite hookup for a couple of days, so I wanted to show all of you this. CUTAWAY to Schwartzenegger Campaign headquarters, where the California candidate is intently watching a replay of the PH swim suit competition and making notes on a legal pad. The former Mr. Universe looks up and notices the camera is on.
Ahhnold: Huhlo Paradise Hotel pee-puhl. At this moment, my staff is presenting a campaign reform ballot measure that would force a swim suit competition between me and the other candidates. This brilliant campaign tactic will virtually assure that I will be the next Governor of California. Can you imagine Cruz Bustamonte and Gray Davis oiled up and walking the runway in Speedos? Gary Coleman? Hah! I don’t think so. . . Thank you, Paradise Hotel for this campaign contribution.
(THE SATELLITE CONNECTION FADES AWAY)
Amanda: In another jaw-dropping surprise move, the King and Queen will now retire to the other room and make the room assignments for the coming week.
Keith: Anybody ever notice how your jaw drops when you yawn?
DAVE AND TARA EXIT, DRAGGING THEIR KING AND QUEEN SASHES BEHIND THEM. THEY RETURN MOMENTS LATER.
Dave: This was not easy . . . blah, blah . . . take everyone into account … blah, blah, blah. (BEAT) Kristin is out.
Amy (whining to Amanda): No! I was supposed to leave. I told the Prom Queen and Jester to send me home. If I leave can Kristin stay?
Amanda (channeling Monty Hall of “Let’s Make A Deal”): What do *you* think guests?
Scott: Door number 2! Door number 2!
Holly: No, pick curtain number 3!
Keith: Whatever you do, take the case of Clearasil!
Amanda: I’m sorry Amy, but the rules of Paradise Hotel which we carefully create using a Ouija board and a roulette wheel, state that, although you sometimes act like a WWE Wrestler, you cannot “tag in” for Kristin.
Amy (HUGGING KRISTIN): Oh baby girl, baby oil . . . oh screw it. I’ll stay.
Amanda: Kristin, do have anything to say to the group? Please keep in mind that angry, emotional rants make for great TV, and PH could really use the ratings boost.
Kristin: Unfortunately, Amanda, that’s not going to happen. You see, my mother is a former nun who took a 20 year vow of silence and my father is a retired street mime, so I never learned to express myself using what you would call “words”. Besides, I usually let my implants do the talking.
Kristin (CONTINUED): I’ve been told that the producers looked at hundreds of hours of footage for my “goodbye” tape package. They were trying to find all the times I showed some sort of personality or said something interesting. They ended up with less than 45 seconds from all the weeks I’ve been here. (SIGHS) I know that there are at least two editors who are sleep-deprived and they tell me that one of the producers is on suicide watch. Sorry about that. (BEAT) I really thought we were on to something when Alex and I cheated on Casino Night, but that just turned out to be a $hitstorm in a shot glass, didn’t it?
Amanda: Wow, Kristin! This is the most you’ve ever said at one time. Anything else?
Kristin: No, I guess not. I just know that Alex will be faithful to me even after I leave and will not jump all over these remaining tramps. At least that’s comforting.
KRISTIN TURNS AND WALKS BY THE REST OF THE GUESTS, NEVER TO RETURN . . . UNLESS THE RULES CHANGE AGAIN.