LAST EDITED ON 11-17-04 AT 05:14 PM (EST)
Waiter, There's a Potato in my Soup!
Is anyone reading? Thank you. Certainly no one is watching. MBFOB drew only 143 viewers last week, which, by my calculation includes the cast, their families, Estee, CQ, Seahorse, PRE and myself. We all hated it worse than French diplomacy. Most of the cast has just entered the Witless Protection Program.
But if you’re one of those slowing down to stare at the fatal wreckage, here is what happened...
Last week 12 inbred morons were delivered by armored car to Chicago, where they met their new billionaire mentor, N. Appalling Toad. He’s not really a billionaire, but an “actor” with absolutely no credits in any professional venue.
According to Internet search engines, this guy doesn’t exist, and has never acted in his life beyond one failed gig as Sky Masterson at the Sheboygan Dinner Theater and Car Parts Castle. It's easier to find info on the Gotti Family. This guy simply appeared on the planet last week.
Our mow-rons fawned over this pseudo-actor with the pseudo-money despite his arrogant disdain for their pitiful lives. He sent the losers onto the street to hustle for money, which, to no one’s surprise, seemed the perfect challenge for the scantily clad strippers and whores of Femron. The losing men of ConCave spent a scary night in a heavily guarded vacant lot lit by 12,000,000-watt lights. Then they met with N. Appalling Toad in the conference room, where he berated them with stream-of-consciousness vitriol. Oh the horror. He called ShortGuy … short. Eventually he sent home Asian Guy, the only person on the broadcast who did not purchase a wardrobe at Target. It was the right move, for that fine tailored suit indicated he was far too intelligent to be kept around for Episode 2.
The credits reveal that some of these contestants have names, but none of them have identities beyond the basic physical attributes. Estee gave us brief bios last week, and I was dismayed to see one quarter of the world’s stupidest people are from NooJoisey. I’m not really going to bother learning who they are, because I’ll probably see them at Dunkin Donuts and kill them. Plus I’m still trying to scrub the cast of Forever Eden from my mind.
Suffice it to say I will identify those people who need a little personalization. Like Juggs McBarbie, the vacuous blond who arrived for the first meeting is a tight T-shirt and that ubiquitous white ruffle miniskirt favored by eighth-graders. Do we need to know her name is Christy? Not really. And, well, it’s not. It’s Whitney. I went back and looked. Christy is the other vacuous blonde bimbette with enormously disproportionate bazooms. But see? Christy… Whitney… Britney… Jessica… Ashlee… Nicole. Who cares what their mother calls them, when we can just call them Juggs and Chesty.
There’s also TruckerGal, Redhead, PaleHag and Anonymous Blonde #3. The guys? There’s BlackGuy, ShortGuy, BurlyGuy, CurlyBlond, BigNose and the recently ejected AsianGuy, whose name was probably Daniel. See? We can scrape below the surface if the summary requires.
Anyway, on to Episode 2, also known as The Final Episode.
Ten people wait in the penthouse to see who survives the conference room. They are all in shorts and T-shirts and are lounging around in various post-coital positions. ShortGuy takes the elevator all the way to that glorious sixth floor, swaggering with the martinet arrogance only short people can master. His teammates lift him onto the coffee table so they can all shake his hand. ShortGuy tells tales of the conference room, and the other bozos are aghast. BurlyGuy says something in confessional, but I didn’t pay attention. I was distracted by his identifying description. They called this guy “Liquor Distribution Executive.” In most frats, his title would be Keg-meister.
PaleHag has a confessional, and she is wearing a most hideous powder blue porkpie hat, which she got free with a bowl of soup. It looks good on her, though. What did she say? Heck, why do you care?
It’s Day 4 of this tragedy. Two team bosses, TruckerGal and ShortGuy get personally delivered invitations to an Executive Privilege reward, which will be a tour of N. Appalling Toad’s Astor Street townhouse. ShortGuy was located in the kitchen in his boxers. TruckerGal was in bib overalls and a white T-Shirt, sunning herself on the balcony alongside Anonymous Blonde #8, who was wearing a rainbow sequined bikini. TruckerGal choses to bring two teammates with her… the two blondes sunning themselves in bikinis. ShortGuy brings along BlackGuy and BigNose.
They arrive at the townhouse, and Toad actor William August tells us that the townhouse is rented, and the actors first saw it that morning. Speaking of actors, we are introduced to two more. There is a gold-digging wife, Lynn, played by a soap opera reject, and a spoiled brat daughter, played by actress Danielle Schneier, whose acting skills require her character be named Danielle. This is to avoid confusion when people speak to her. The two look approximately the same age. Actress Tamara Clatterbuck tells us that Lynn Toad is the traditional billionaire’s trophy wife, but she’s flattering herself. A trophy wife would have twice the cleavage and only 10% of Tamara’s wrinkles. In fact, she would look a whole lot more like Chesty or Juggs.
The townhouse is opulent, decorated with objects d’art, intricate moldings and gold leaf. It is intended as parody of some other billionaire’s mansion, but fails miserably. Donnie Rump’s garish Whorehouse of the Gods is immune to parody.
The Toads conduct a tour, which includes a pop quiz on the vases of Napoleon. N. Appalling Toad gives a roundly applauded but dog-killing concert on the 1927 Steinway piano. Eventually they move to the den, where we find a huge block of money encased in glass. Toad says it is his first million. It’s actually a block of plastic with a few hundreds glued to the surface.
He whips out a can of AquaNet, and sprays the area in front of the plastic box, revealing a Tom Cruise-worthy network of crisscrossing laser beams. It looks like the security system at the CIA, but its really six hidden dime store laser pointers.
In virtual proof that none of these contestants have an IQ higher than this channel number, Toad reveals his next treasure: King Arthur’s Excalibur. Yes, the character is largely fictional. Yes, the sword in the stone story is a complete fabrication. Amazingly, these idjits believe in Excalibur. They also believe in the fantasies of the Easter Bunny, Willy Wonka, and Compassionate Conservatism. TruckerGal opines that only a person of true heart can wield Excalibur, so she has a new outlook on N. Appalling Toad. We have a new outlook on TruckerGal’s Intelligence Quotient.
Toad laughingly reveals that the prop is a cheap sword they found on the Internet. They “antiqued” it under the wheels of a car. It looks as if its made of gum wrappers.
They all tromp off to the master bedroom, where PaleHag tells the Toad that she’d look good in this house. This “upsets” Mrs. Toad. PaleHag tells us that she wasn’t hitting on him, she just wants his house. But the hook is in, and the improv takes a quick and ugly turn. Mrs. Toad is insulted by the shameless hussy, while Toad himself begins leering.
Day five dawns. A cheap 1978 rotary dial phone is ringing in the suite. Anonymous Blonde #11 runs to pick it up, and the cameraman aims up her short shorts. After the call, Britney tells us that they need to meet at Buckingham Fountain for the next challenge. Once again, these people dress as if they picked through the dumpster behind K-Mart.
They arrive at the Al Bundy Fountain, and are given the next challenge. Toad says, basically: "Our customers are pretty stupid. We have to tell them what they want. It’s hot, it’s humid. Go sell bowls of hot soup.”
To drive home the idiocy of this challenge, Toad’s male accomplice challenges the mow-rons with a little game in which he plays the Eskimo, and they sell him ice. PaleHag survives by talking. He tells the men he’s Satan and they must sell him fire. ShortGuy impresses by suggesting Satan can use some extra fire for those Off Topic “discussions” with PagongRatEater.
The women huddle to form a strategy, which involves passing themselves off as a catering company soliciting opinions on a new product. These women like to rely on the one business skill they learned as teenagers: soliciting.
But what’s this? Anonymous Blonde #42 will sell soup, but her morals forbid lying! How did she get cast?
Luckily the men have no such moral qualms. They know that the women will succeed in street sales. So the men decide their first move is to sabotage the women. They send out a team of losers to interrupt and harass the women to drive the customers away. It’s working too well. Eventually both teams settle down into the simple strategy of failing miserably.
Oddly enough, when we return from commercials, Chicago is slurping up the soup. The women are selling soup by the cup full. Specifically D cups, or possibly Double D cups. Our producers have some sabotage of their own, of course. A platoon of Italian ice vendors arrives. Soup sales crumble like a stale cracker.
The men respond with clear intimidation. BurlyGuy tells the ice vendor it would be healthier if he left the city. The women respond like the women on that other business-related reality show. They fret, they formulate a stupid plan, and they focus on pinning the blame on the one person who made them feel bad.
Back to the men, who have revived their soup sales by designating CurlyBlond an Abercrombie model, and flaunting more noodle than chicken.
The challenge ends, and we go back to commercials.
When we return, we are back at the fountain. N. Appalling Toad’s female accomplice, Jamie, gives a negative report on the women’s team, and says they sold soup by using their sexuality. The women are shocked. Jamie says that flirting won’t work in the business world. The women, most of who wear skimpy tops or bikini tops for their confessionals, are shocked, shocked, that anyone could accuse them of trading on their looks.
David reports on the men, and applauds them for using their sexuality as a sales tool. In fact, he fawns all over them. The men, in confessionals, are suddenly leery of David’s orientation, while the women, in other confessionals, are bemoaning the double standard.
PaleHag even asks us: “What am I supposed to do, put a potato in my pants, and act like a man?”
Hmmm. That might have improved the sales, but it would not have improved the soup.
After all this drama, the soupy sales totals are revealed, and the men have won the day. And of course, they celebrate offensively. N. Appalling Toad turns to the women, and berates them, concluding with the statement: “One of you broads is going home.”
Ack! PaleHag is telling us how offended she was… and she’s wearing that hideous blue hat! She wants to report Toad to Human Resources. I want to report her to the Fashion Guerillas. Even Emo Phillips wouldn’t wear that hat.
As we break for commercials, we get a shot of N. Appalling Toad, smiling smugly at the broads.
When we return it is Night 6. Apparently nothing of consequence happened on DAY 6, which isn’t much different from any of the other days in this time wasting farce.
The women are in the conference room. Toad begins by spouting a bunch of nonsense about being tough, and being a killer whale among sharks. The women are all nodding like puppets. Then Toad throws the curve ball. He starts to refer to his notes, and begins asking why Redhead undermined the team leader. This is the previously named AnonymousBlonde #86, who now will be known for at least another two minutes as “Annette.” Redhead denies being a biotch. Jamie clears her throat and gives Toad a serious hand signal. The Femrons are puzzled. So am I. There’s a woman there in a business suit and glasses, with blond hair pulled severely back. She’s almost disguised herself, but those watery red eyes reveal that it is PaleHag! I liked her better in the clown hat.
To confuse them further, Toad tells them they did a good job. He then credits PaleHag with an idea he liked, which was actually Chesty’s idea. Both Juggs and Chesty try to interrupt him to make sure Chesty gets the credit, and he cuts them off. He then begins confusing the names, revealing he has no clue which Fembot is which. The women are befuzzled. Toad said they did well, but it wasn’t enough, and TruckerGal leaps in to say they didn’t have a good idea. Juggs argues it was a good idea and begins to babble. Now I’m confused. At what point did any of these women actually think? But hey, I’m not rewinding for that.
While Juggs babbles on, Toad’s cell phone rings. It’s his wife. He blithely dismisses her and returns back to the conversation in the
boardroom conference room. He gets “Annette” to provide real names for the two eviction candidates. I’m surprised to learn the Chesty is really named "Christy" and that PaleHag is really.. uh…uh.. hellfire. Her name is probably PaleHag. And I’m not rewinding for that either. Luckily the other four are dismissed before I have to name them.
For the next confusion, Toad asks PaleHag to give him three reasons why he should hire Chesty. Two are obvious to me, but these are PaleHags bitchslapping backhanding reasons:
Chesty believes she’s honest.
Chesty has a unique perspective because she doesn’t have the business background the rest of us do.
Chesty really thinks about things before she answers the question.
Now Toad want Chesty to provide three reasons to fire PaleHag. (please please please say the hat.)
PaleHag has a negative attitude.
PaleHag doesn’t think before she speaks.
PaleHag makes enemies everywhere she goes (in that hat).
Toad sends the women into the lobby, and PaleHag is stunned. Something seems a bit unfair. The women exit, and Jamie is furiously and ominously writing away on her legal pad. When the door closes, she reveals she’s been doodling boobs.
Toad now exits to go talk to the boss. The real boss, who is yet to be revealed to us. We see Toad enter a big office from our perspective behind the boss’s chair, but we can’t actually see the boss. The boss does not speak. Or grunt. Or squawk, squeal or moo. And we go to commercials.
When we return, Chesty and PaleHag are cooling their heels in the lobby. Toad returns with the boss’s answer, and Jamie summons the victims.
The real boss never provides a reason for the decision, so Toad just makes stuff up. He says PaleHag has a bad attitude, but on the other hand, that’s a good thing. He tells Chesty she is not a team player, but on the other hand, “get the hell out of my office.”
...Huh? This is the big moment, and the lead “actor” stumbles into it. Sort of like watching him play Sky Masterson in Sheboygan.
Both women are stunned. Chesty sits there for a few seconds in disbelief, while PaleHag begins to smile broadly. Chesty exits, and PaleHag thanks Toad for the chance to stay. He tells her she’s the new team boss, and she should go back to the suite and burn her hat.
Chesty leaves the building, bemoaning Toad’s ruthlessness, and how it is at odds with his possession of Excalibur, which indicates a true and pure heart like in Disney cartoons. And then she wanders away to the nearest street corner, where she can return to her former career. It’s a place where just being Chesty is good enough.
Next week (HA! Like there’ll BE a next week. Fox is right now delivering a huge green apple to the producers):
Toad brings the women aboard his yacht, and tries to get them all in bikinis. Redhead is insulted. Juggs is not. They’ll meet the boss’s son. The challenge, to be judged by a class of third graders, involves creating a cuddly mascot for a company that manufactures the deadly poison… cyanide.
And given the ratings of this dunghole of a show, some Fox executives might just find that cyanide…
in their soup.
Better that than the potato.
These reality show contestants need a reality check!