OFFICIAL BB3 Ep 12 Summary: “As the Worm Turns”

Previously on Big Brother

As reigning despot, his Head-ship Roddy aspires to divine supremacy as he masterminds the ultimate Eve-iction, the nomination of Paradise’s cutest couple, Amy and Marcellas, divas of the fashionably spoiled gossip-mongers.

GodRod gives them a dressing-down, but makes it clear that it is Amy who has drawn his wrath. God’sRod unsheathes his frightful . . . um, well, make that embellished . . . sword and demands a total rout.

Amy begs Marcellas to preserve her dignity, *sob* “Just a scrap,” she pleads, *sob* and Marcellas cries, “No. *sob* Why, oh why, couldn’t you lay off the . . . * big sob* forbidden fruit, Amy?”

“My cheese?” gasps Amy.

SSSSSCREEEEECH!

Ok, that’s it. I’m not going there. Jeez, the things I could do with “forbidden fruit,” and it’s painful (I’m not going there either). *sigh* I’ve given “witty” a try, and it doesn’t fit. My brain hurts (no wise-cracks from the peanut gallery – be glad I’m screaming Uncle). These are all the “cheesy” lines I can think of, and since my “wit” reads more like a bad novela (a Mexican soap opera for you non-Texans) mucked up with purple prose, I’m pulling a switcharoo . . . .

Ahem . . . . *switches hats*

So Amy’s ego and Marcellas’ paranoia clash over a mercy vote . . . yup, lots of drama . . . but essentially insignificant because GodRod was in position to stage a power play, lining his ducks in a row, and he did. All seven quackers booted Amy.

And how did Daddy’s-little-girl-who-always-gets-her-way handle the gang-boot? Jumped for joy as if she had just made the winning touchdown . . . which either validated Dawg’s conspiracy theory or proved that she is truly blonde. It was as if she KNEW that she was going to Mexico to party, party . . . then again, it could be that she’s TSTL (too stupid to live – that’s romance jargon for those bodice-ripped heroines who scream “I hate you, I hate you” and then jump into bed with the bodice ripper) . . . . .

. . . or . . . it could be that Amy was more omniscient (ok, in this case, clairvoyant – ask Swami) than the God of Rod’s self-inflated penetralia mentis *snicker* . Perhaps she “knew” that the Camelot lovebirds would soon be squirming as the Geriatric outcast acquires sovereignty of the round table? Nyah, TSTL.

The preview ends with another shot of Erod’s defining moment, when, in abject confusion, he realizes he has lost the HOH competition to studly Gerry, who struts his stuff as a connoisseur of female inches. Eric, honey, size really doesn’t matter.

Judging Amy

So now, for the Eridiotics out there who didn’t get it last Thursday, Amy’s eviction was seven to zero—that’s right, every ducky . . . Aflac, Aflac, Aflac . . . ta da! Seven! And to add insult to injury, the little duckies try to convince us that what we thought was, wasn’t. Jason assures us that it was all love. Lots of love for Amy and even more for Marcellas. Chiaho says, yeah, gang-love.

Hello, do we have Eric written across our foreheads? The only part of Amy that Chiaho loved was the sight of Amy’s backside exiting the front door. I smell DR.

Marcellas, who is sooooo offended, responds: “Excuse me, do you see Eric on my forehead? Those lying hos loved Amy right out the door! They’re all hypocrites – nasty, germ-infested, poorly clad gang-lovers *shudder* . . . . I loved Amy. I loved Amy. I loved Amy. Yes, I loved her the most . . . but I’m here and she’s not. *smile* I’m here and she’s not. Teehee! I’m here and she’s NOT! *cackle* Damn these hypocrites, I’m supposed to be here because it’s my money, and by the way, Dan-ho, it is my money.”

Dani in the DR: “Three suckers down, seven to go. And under her breath she chants: I need the money. Roddy is the devil. I want the money. Josh is the devil. I need it the most. Eric is the devil. The money is mine.” (Ok, let’s count ‘em . . . Jeez, where do they get these people?)

Eric’s now in the DR to piss and moan about his plight. He’s a hero, ya know, and everybody in the house loves him – except the big guy. “I’m a big, big guy—so he’s a big guy and I’m a big guy—and I did everybody a big, big disservice—what can I say?—I f’d up BIG!” (Ok, I confess, Chiaho said some of it, but no biggie, they’re practically one and the same—just throw in a ton of “likes” for Chiaho—and like, ya know, like lots of space you know where.)

Now we have the big guy himself, resident outcast and wannabe stage actor, whose favorite pastime activity in the house is to stalk the cameras and any stationary being with his hammed-up soliloquies, opines: “The worm has turned.” (Gee, Gerry, didja read the rest of the poem – you’re still a worm!) “All comes to he who waits.” Yeah, but you’re still a worm. “I get to be center-stage!” One word. Worm. (Eric, baby, you need two words. That’s right, two. BIG. Worm.)

Cuckoo! What’s a worm to do?

Squirming time. Now we get to see the good stuff, that time between HOH and the nomination ceremony. Squirm, worms, squirm. Yeah. Paranoia sets in and the fun begins. “It’s you. No, it’s me. But it could be you. No, it’s me; I know it’s me. But then, it could him or her. Oh, God, it’s meeee. If he does, he is GONE. I guarantee, next week his ass is on the line and outta here.” (Of course, these people always think they will be there next week to do the ass-whoopin’ cuz they know they got the votes, yes, sir, they do.)

Ok, the squirming begins. Gerry shows off his goodies in the HOH room and everyone oohs and aahs and schmooze and schmaaze. “Gerry, of all the HOH’s, yours is the best. The best food, the best liquor, the best music – Oh, Gerry, we LOVE your music (pssst – look at him, *Chiaho elbows Roddy* , just LOOK at him, Josh is all OVER Gerry’s bed, and loooook, he’s listening to Gerry’s music)—and the greatest, most beautiful family” —

Josh, headphones cover ears, yells: “Hey, Ger, how come your kids are so cute and you’re so ugly?”

Gerry: “Joshie, you’re not sleeping in my bed.”

Marcellas in DR: "Gerry is now in bed with Josh."

Conversation on the web cam -----
Roddy: Josh is working Gerry. It is pathetic.
Chiara: Um . . . is that bad?
Roddy: It’s disgusting.
Chiara: So, that’s good.
-- Pause for Chiara’s brain cell to warm up –
Chiara: Whaddya think? I’ll launder Gerry’s clothes.
Roddy: Peeew. Pathetic.
Chiara: Ok, good. And next I’ll wash his feet.
Roddy: Yuck. Disgusting.
Chiara: Ok, OK!! What do I . . . uh, you think? How about a bj?
Roddy: Jeez. Sickening.
Chiara: OOOOKAY! Thanks.

Yup, I tweaked it, but as far as I know, she did two out of the three.

In the meantime, Lisa’s brain cell is warming up, too. She twitters to Chiara that she’s a little nervous because Gerry might be looking at breaking up the *gasp* couples. Chiara gasps back, “You mean like . . . (recharging the brain cell, so big pause) . . . us?” Well, apparently it takes awhile for Chiara to recharge because next we see Chiara in the DR and she is still connecting the dots: “Ya know, Gerry is like, ya know, sort of a loose cannon . . . *frown* . . . we’re all at risk here . . . *grimace* . . . well, some of us are more at risk than others.” No kidding.

And of course, as soon as something makes an appearance in Chiara’s lonesome cell, everyone soon knows about it. She runs to Dani and Dani says “mm hmm” and pats her on the back and tells her not to worry, that Mommy will always save her – hugs, kisses, and crocodile tears. Then Chiara runs to Roddy and tells him Dani is her new best friend and sobs, “ya know, when things are down you know who your true friends are.” The camera zooms in as Roddy struggles to keep a straight face.

And a worm’s still a worm. Gerry asks Roddy if their deal includes saving Chiara, and Roddy says, “Who? Nyah. Hey, I’m a big boy.” Ah, jeez, here we go again, and speaking of the BIG boy, Eric squirms with the best of ‘em. “Hey, if Lisa’s gotta go, she’s gotta go.”

A Worm’s Life

Ok, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Gerry’s nominees, so now we waste time watching a day in the life. The hamsters sunbathe all day, play with rubber ducks at night, and pop zits day and night.

And Marcellas has issues. The ducks are his personal toys, and the other hamsters have kidnapped his darlings to play an abominably cruel game called Duckball. HG’s award points for hurling the duckies from a distance successfully into or against a bucket on the basketball court. Marcellas wants to call the SPCA. And he’s sick of watching the “gorillas” groom each other – pick, pick, pop, pop! – and he’s got just the thing – facials for the guys! Now Josh wants to call the SPCA.

Next we see other nighttime activities—Dawg’s favorite part, the sex that ain’t and never gonna be—and the IR camera is on Eric and Lisa making out, and suddenly Lisa jumps up and starts crying and it’s a happy cry. Did something finally happen and we missed it? But Eric is startled and confused – did he miss it, too? Yup, evidently, cuz she has to explain it to him. “This has been my thing forever . . . I feel like a princess in a story book . . .swept off my feet . . . I now know what it feels to have something real.” Jeez, Eric, you are good. So tell us, what did you do? But he’s still confused, so the princess whispers, “You said, ‘Hi.’”

There ya go, Dawg. A technique proven to evoke orgasmic delight . . . yup, right here on Big Brother. Oh, and Eric wanted to call the SPCA, too.

Ger’s Diner

Food challenge: “I can eat anything better than you.” Members from each team face off to bet on who can consume the challenged amount of the food in question in 2 minutes. The losing team eats PB&J for one week.

Red Team: Chiara, Dani, Roddy, and Josh

Blue Team: Lisa, Eric, Jason, and Marcellas

First face-off: Lisa v. Chiara
Final bet: Lisa bets that Chiara can’t eat 12 brussel sprouts in 2 min
Chiara loses dismally.

Second face-off: Josh v. Jason
Final bet: Josh bets that Jason can’t eat 8 twinkies in 2 min
Jason wins with no problem.

Third face-off: Dani v. Eric
Final bet: Eric bets that Dani can’t eat 15 jalapeño stuffed olives in 2 min
Dani wins with nearly a minute left.

Fourth face-off: Roddy v. Marcellas
Final bet: Roddy bets that Marcellas can’t eat 5 deep-fried chicken
livers (Roddy’s description: bile-filtering of dead
“carcassi”) in 2 min
Marcellas wins, gagging all the way.

Marcellas is the hero of the day. Blue team wins.

Center Stage: The Round Table

This is showtime for Gerry. He starts with the obligatory “this is the hardest thing I’ve ever done” dirge—oh, get outta here, you’re loving it—and pulls the first key. The paranoia is palpable, until finally the last sigh. Lisa and Eric. Keyless and clueless.

Ok, now for the BIG question: Hey, Ger, be you worm or king today?

Gerry justifies his nominations: “They gave us that game, you know, the chess game, and there has to be a reason. So I think, ok, that’s a game and this is a game. See? This is just a game. So I nominated Eric and Lisa for strategy reasons, because in a game you use strategy. So there you are. In this game, you are the Queen, Lisa, and Eric, you are her knight. Strategy.”

*snicker* Gerry thinks he’s the chessmaster.

Sorry, Ger, not even close. *winks at the clown*