LAST EDITED ON 09-12-02 AT 06:31 PM (EST)
****OFFICIAL BB3 Ep 18 Summary: “Seconds, Thirds . . .Huuuuck Spit . . . Fourths aka Squargle”****
Previously on Big Brother
*eyes search left, right, left, right* Roddy slips into Chiara’s wasteland, gliding through the vacuous chasm of her mind, reconnoitering his territory, and suddenly senses danger. *eyes twitch hard-left, hard-right, left-right* Roddy swiftly slithers out and sighs in relief.
Almost didn’t make it this time, didja bubba? Yup, Chiara has another brain fart in that lonely cell of grey matter, and the sneaky snake comes close to expiration from the foul . . . . um, well, expiration. Flatulent Chiara nominates two of her allies, Josh and Roddy, forcing Roddy to slither his slimy heart out to keep his head intact. Josh gets the axe.
In the meantime, Amy and Eric go through the “motions” as they jockey for Comeback Queen, and, yup, it’s Amy (did anyone ever doubt that it would be Amy after that TSTL-Paula-Abdul-I-am-cheerleader-yes-I-am moment of inanity when she was evicted unanimously—she had to know that she was coming back . . . didn’t she?)
Amy comes back. To the filthy dregs of the BB house. Literally. *snicker* And I don’t mean that tub of seaweed, either, sweetie.
Once again, we see Amy and fellow hos jump into the Texas-sized bathtub for a pissing contest . . . well, if Will were there it would be (fond memories of Will pissing gleefully on the waterbed as Nicole screeches in delight—yup, the sickos make it interesting, don’t they?) . . . to see who can out-scum the scummiest and be Hoss of Huck.
Huckster Chiara, peddling her wares as usual, dumps twenty gallons of dead fish into the tub. Roddy, exhibiting alarming symptoms of psychological trauma due to his recent forays into Chiara’s “wasteland,” is gun-shy, yes, siree, he’s askeert , and he gets the hell outta there. He don’t want none of dat. Betcha his sneaky snake stays clear of Chiara’s chasm. *snicker*
Who’s next to succumb to the wicked allure of sanity? *looks around suspiciously* Who ya talkin’ ‘bout?
Are the remaining idjuts psychologically impaired? *glares* Damn straight.
And who’s the Hoss of Huck? Well, duh!
And if you haven’t figured out by now who the Hoss of Huck is in this here show then you’re about to find out again and again and again and again and, yup, you’re gettin’ there, darlin’, AGAIN. Doncha feel SPECIAL? And the BEST? Cuz the Hoss of Huck is giving you his very special, the very best, and the NEVER BEFORE SEEN Big Brother 3? ***HUCK***
Back to the tub o’ hos sloshing around with dead squid. Chiaho continues to peddle *teehee* and dumps buckets of slimy seaweed and pond scum into the wicked brew *cackle*. And she is having FUN, because people are screaming and swearing, just like her fav-o-rite passttime, and she misses sex, sex, SEX -- O! It’s exactly what she misses most, SCREEAAMING and SWEARING ---- OO! Yup, doesn’t take much to make her happy. Multiple orgasms right there on our teevee. And germ-aphobe MarciASS has a fit of his own, screeching and bellering as Chiara slings a large pile of slop on top of him. And Chiara says, OOO!
Abrupt cut to Damni-who-never-lies-or gossips in the DR: “With Amy back in the house, the cattiness and gossip will start up again.”
Gossip??? We move from mindf . . . um, frolicking and muck . . . frolicking to GOSSIP? And Damni, oh, Damni, tell us it ain’t so, cuz, sweetie, did the dreaded Vee-bug bite ya? Are you one of them thar Christaccrutchians — another bible thumpin’ *gasp* Backbladeous Hypocritius? Darlin’, how many times this week did ya do that voodoo Rodgod-is-the-Debil incantation? Oh, not gossip, you say? It’s da TRUTH. Ok, sweetie, I gotcha. It’s God’s truth, straight from God, yes, siree, and God don’t pee on your back and call it rain. *nudge*
And what’s with the “start up AGAIN” crap? Nooooo, please, no. Good God Almighty, Arnie, if this is what I think it’s gonna be, I absolutely-if-it’s-the-last-thing-I-ever-do will join the Killarnies—yup, a card carrying member, that’s what I’ll be. It’s bad enough that we get PREVIOUSLY over and over again. Now we get PREVIOUSLY and AGAIN, again and again. ****HUCK SPIT****
Ok, let’s see what juicy tidbits these hos wanna share with us today. Do ya think we’ll hear about Demonielle’s passionate life-long stand against voting? OMG—now that’s scandalous! And Jeez, she votes each week on this show without a qualm, the two-faced disgustipating vote-hor----WHACK----*slaps forehead* ok, ok, ya wanna know what’s happening on the teevee, the juicy stuff? Well, whaddya think? It’s AGAIN and it’s bOrInG, BoRiNg, bOrInG. Marci tells us he likes to gossip. Duh! Chiara’s not sure but she thinks there’s gossip going on. Ya think? Well, let’s see, first, Marci calls Tonya a ho; then Josh calls Amy a whacko, who calls Chiara a ho, who calls Amy a bitch, who then calls Chiara white trash. Chiara now hates Lisa’s whining, while Josh hates both of them because they’re complete morons who can’t see the BIG picture *snicker* hey, Eric, tell him about BIG -- then Marci calls Tony a fake bitch who calls Lori a real whacko and Lori makes a really good whacko face that looks just like . . . . . . . Demonielle at her whackiest.
Now we go to the BEST FIGHT of Big Brother. Last year we saw kinky knives and get-down-and-dirty toothbrushes so we’re a little jaded, but bring it on, Arnie, show us your best. And this had better be that new footage ya promised us, Arnie-baby, cuz we haven’t seen anything—nope, nada, zilch—that comes close to a GOOD fight, much less—ah, Jeez, AGAIN, dammit! That friggin’ whacko Demonielle doin’ her infrared Beetlejuice impression!
Yup, Dani screams, “DON’T TOSS MY SALAD WITH YO’ NASTY HANDS,” and casts a bug-eyed curse on Lori. And Psycho Lori who is having a psychic moment dares the Hypocritius Demonielle to come out of the closet, “Come on, I dare ya . . . how did it get so two-faced!” And everybody straightens up and looks nervously at each other. Two-faced? No, no, no – not me. How ‘bout you? No way! What about you? Hell no! And they all look at Lori. Yup, we know who got the boot that week.
Time to check on the tub scum. Yup, all the slimy squargs still wallowing. Chiara’s still peddling and Roddy’s not buying. *eyes blink rapidly, glance left, glance right* Uh oh, where ya going, darlin’? *sigh* Here we go AGAIN—dammit, Arnie, watching Roddy mindfrolick with Chiaho is too damned BORING and I hope she farts the hell out of—OH! where ARE ya goin’, you litlle shit-stirrer, you?
Roddy slides away from Chiara, closer to Amy. “Hey, Amy, tell us everything you know about what’s happening outside. We are starving for information,” Roddy begs. *eyes jerk frantically, searching* Now, Amy, a good southern girl like you knows that ya don’t show ‘em everything, doncha, darlin’? Ya give just a little and keep ‘em—“Julia Roberts got married again,” Amy twitters. *eyes glaze over* Yup, she cut that sucker off at the pass. He don’ want none of dat. And he got the hell outta there, too. Ya go, girl.
Now Amy wants to know what happened in the house while she was gone—NOOO! Do you hear me? DO NOT GO THERE!! Dammit!! Tell Amy later on HER time, not OURS. Jeez, now Dani is describing the bidding-war food competetition. So we hear it and then see it and that’s four gazillion times too many in this crapalanche of . . . CRAP. And if she talks about MarcellASS making a wimpy ASS of himself over a few pieces of fried chicken—Yup, she is—Oh, fer chrissakes, Dani, five pieces of liver do not a hero make, vomit or no vomit. ****HUCK SPIT****
We’re with Chiara now in the DR, and she is “thinking” again as she slowly drawls in rote repetition a question a crew member has asked, “I think . . . that the best use . . . thus far . . . for PB&J in the House”—OBJECTION!! Doofus leading the No-Brainer—oh, puhleeze, could ya not make it more obvious that you are scripting *lifts eyebrow at Dawg* this thing, Arnie? USE?? Who the Sam Hill USES peanut butter and jelly? NO, don’t say it—it’s a rhetorical question—please, I don’t wanna know. But we sure as Sam Hill know who USES it in this squargly bunch of doofuses (hey, GodRod, would that be doofi *snicker*) cuz we see it AGAIN and AGAIN.
And, oh, what a scream to see Miss No-Brainer struggle to answer this question. Gee, Chiara, just how many USES are there?
*sigh* Ok we see the doofasses (um, Rotti-dear, I’m confused—would that be doofi, too?) em-bare-ass and peek-a-bOOb-alate one more time as they prance around in melting PB&J for our prurient pleasure.
Dani in the DR: “Dey po’ mamas. Dey po’ chillun.” Amen Sista. Dat’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.
Back to the squirelly squargs who have scummed around in the sewer slop for forty-two minutes. Baby Jason can’t hold it. He needs to go. The Geriatric needs to go, too, and pragmatically observes that it would “warm” things up a bit, wouldn’t it? Screeching and hollering and Chiara wakes up—what’s that about peeing? she chirps. Ok, Arnie this is not the new footage we want to see. Don’t be showing us NOTHIN’ about Chiara and peeing.
NOOOO!! Good God Almighty, if I have to watch these No-Brainers grope each other on my teevee again, I swear on my beloved teevee’s carcass that I will campaign for a slow, excruciating, hideous—ya got that, Hi-deous, horri-Hi-ble, fri-Hi-ghtful—death at Killarnie. Oh, BTW, I take it back. Jeez, listening to Chiara boast her proclivity for peeing in strange places beats this analgeezic, chucklish concrapulation you call romance.
*deep breath* Ok, I’ll zip through this. Lisa twitters. Eric grunts. Lisa squeaks. Eric snorts. Lisa gropes. Eric snarls. Lisa coos. Eric growls. Lisa “plays.” Eric growls BIG. Lisa mewls. Eric says Hi. Lisa howls. Ho. Hum.
Things That Make Ya Go Waaaaa!
Now we get to see BB3’s best hanky moments. And if we see Eric’s BIG growl, I’m smacking him right off my teevee. Don’t mess with—OH, ok, looks like we get to see Marci growl and Amy howl. Yup, it’s the BIG FIGHT that Marci tells us never happened and, gee, he tells us again. Oh, give it up, Marci, we’ve already seen you pitch this diva fit AGAIN and AGAIN. See, there ya go, screaming and browbeating down-and-outta-there Amy over one stinkin’ pity vote. Yup, ya made Amy cry. Waaaaa!
Yeah!! We’re back to the goofies in the grunge, gaggling through the goop and Whoa, Nellie, some ACTION. Marci and Gerry squargle out of the tub squealing and flopping like mud-wrestled pigs at the State Fair. Amy tells us in the DR that she won’t be squargling until the last squarg squargles.
Oh, looky here, another squargler. Dani squargles out choking and gagging, and then she tells us in the DR, unnhuh, no way, she did NOT squargle—she slithered. *snicker* Ooooh, darlin’, be careful there, don’t wanna be taking on any of those Devil ways, now wouldja? Dani sasses, “Hey, you think I can’t act?” Then smirks, “I let others do the dirty work for me.” Amen, Sista. Dat’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. And forget the money, sweetie. I’m thinking . . . . . um, exorcist.
Another hanky moment. Joshie makes Marci cry. Hurts his feelings, that meanie. Waaaaa! Josh says to Dani, “All I did was tell him the truth . . . if not for Gerry, he was toast!” Dani says to Josh, “And the truth shall set you free,” and under her breath, “without my 500 thou!” Bub-bye Joshie.
*Ding* Time for more grucking and mucking and did I hear . . . shucking?—OH! sorry, it’s SHOCKING! Twenty gallons of electric eels. Dead fish again. SHOCKING dead eels—NO? ok, shocking DEALS . . . ideals? . . . . How about idgara (I don’t give a rat’s ass)! Cuz I know where this is going--*slaps palms over ears*--ho hum—yup, there he is, Mr. Ideal Man making a big deal about deals with the devil and selling his soul. Lalalalala. Nope, don’ wanna hear it. Too much SHOCK and I’m gonna SHUCK this thang if—well, let’s see what Marci has to say. “Gerry saved my soul.” ****HUCK SPIT****
What now? Expect the expected “Expect the Unexpected.” In fact it is soooo expected that we know exactly what to expect about the unexpected—yup, AGAIN Dani tells us that it takes many twists and turns. Yeah, but if it is expected, is it still unexpected? What a twisticated mangalage. ****HUCK SPIT****
In the meantime, the squargs twist the twist. They are so pissed. T’aint fair. Whaddya think this is, a VACATION!! We’ve been squargling for money, working hard—didja know that lyin’ and backstabbin’ is STRESSFUL—so don’t be messin’ with us, baby. Bring it on, Arnie, and we’ll twist that sucker right on outta here. We’ve even got a name for it, yes, siree, cuz it’s legit, totally real. Operation Revolving Door.
Yeah, right. Yada, yada, yada. And, hey, that door revolves every five back-stabbing minutes. Ain’t no way any of you squargs are gonna boot out a mark who gets ya closer to the green . . . well, except Chiaho . . . hmm, and maybe Marci . . . and then there’s Lisa . . .
*DING* One hour and fifty one minutes. Chiara is channeling Rodgod, “You can do it, Lisa, go Li, go Li, yes Li, yes, Li, go—NO, LI”—Lisa squargles out, bawling and squalling. And then she sobs to us in the DR: “I knew that I would have to put up Chiara and Roddy.” Gee, darlin’, is that something to cry about? “I still want to be . . . *sob* . . . innocent.” Innocent? INNOCENT? Um, sweetie, dry your tears, you passed that a long time ago . . . *wink* you, bottle licker, you.
In the DR Amy now tells us she’ll shoot ‘em all dead before she squargles out. She will be the Last One Squargling.
Back to Amy and Jason in the tub. Whrrrrrrrr. Nnn. Nnn. Whirrrrrr. Amy is in love. Camera love. The sound of the cameras makes her go . . . mmmmmm. Chiara says, “yeah, nothing like having 72 cameras up your ass” . . . um, Chiara, is that a bash or . . . “If those things didn’t exist I could tell you some stories, mmhmm” . . . ok, a bash, and now the other squargs join in. Eric has finally figured out that “there’s infrared and everything . . . and they home in close and get every DETAIL.” Yup, every disgustipating, groping, em-bare-assing, zit-popping detail.
And the camera bashes back. We see nasal cavities and crotch shots. Tonya fondles her frankenbritneys. Eric primps and Gerry farts. Chiara humps Lisa and then frenches Tonya. Tonya is now fondling Chiara and Jeez, Louise, we know were this is heading. Expect the friggin’ EXPECTED cuz we see it AGAIN and AGAIN, the make-Josh’s-day-shower-cream-BIMBOS. ARRGGG!! ****Double HUCK SPIT****
*DING DING* One hour and fifty eight minutes. Two squargs left. Two buckets of cod liver oil.
Jason: “Amy, this really stinks.”
Amy: “Mmhmm – deadening.”
Jason: “It’s pretty slimy.”
Amy: “Mmhmm – fatal.”
Jason: “And scummy.”
Jason: Amy, welcome back.
Jason squargles all over Amy.
Makes Amy’s day.
Yes’m, she loves dat squarglin’.