America’s Most Smartest Model: Run, Russia, Run!

This week on America’s Most Smartest Model, the alliance continues, another ridiculously pathetic attempt at a runway show occurs (which Angela excels at, much to the audience’s annoyance), Andre works well with a team for once, and the Brokebackian relationship of Pickel and Brett is put to the test.

Get me a DumDum. I’m bored.

Disco-y credits, over which we hear Blonde Rachel say “Umbrella tree…?” And some other sound bites. House. Morning. Angela is upset that Daniel went home. Andre is glad Daniel went home and is happy about his alliance with Aussie Rachael and the power-couple: Pickel and Brett. They’re all laying out poolside, and Pickel looks kinda hot all stretched out with his hands behind his head, exposing his slightly hairy armpits and nice biceps, a tattoo on the right one. Too bad he has the personality of a hummingbird on crack. They all hate VJ. Pickel says the alliance is unbeatable. Uh huh. Famous last words, lameass. Go make out with your chicken. Or Brett.

Or me. Whatever.

Note du jour. It comes with tennis shoes and t-shirts and workout gear. Um, didn’t they already do something like this in the second or third episode? I swear, this show has no self-esteem. Kind of like Angela, who has to hide behind a veneer of confidence, which lies behind a mask of assurance, which is wrapped in a turban of bitchiness.

Angela reads the note, which says they need to be in teams of two, put on the workout gear, and meet Mary Alice in the living room in an hour, where she’ll be laying on the couch with a glass of Cristal and a bowl of baked Lays lounging while everyone else works. VJ asks Andre to be his partner, and seriously 5 awkward, silent seconds go by while everyone stares vacantly into space, trying to grasp the concept of human conversation. Andre finally says that everyone should take a moment, breathe, and then talk about picking partners. I think I’ll follow his advice and take a moment, breathe, and wonder why the hell I’m watching this crap.

Oh, yeah! Cuz this job’s making me RICH! RICH I TELL YOU!!!

VJ interviews that he thought he would take this opportunity to get to know Andre, while Andre interviews that VJ is a “snaky bastard.” Well. If that isn’t the sexual assaulter calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is. Angela says VJ has been strong in the last few challenges, and she decides to make him her ally. They think they’re a good team.

There’s an alliance meeting in the purple bathroom. They do the usual alliance talk, all, “We’re better blah blah blah, it’s us vs. them blah blah blah, we’re so pretty blah blah blah Pickel and Brett are registered at Pottery Barn blah blah blah.” Pickel and Brett are partners in the challenge. And will be life-partners after the competition is through. That leaves Aussie Rachael and Andre. Thrilling, thrilling stuff.

The “models” meet Mary Alice and Ben Stein in the living room. Ben Stein explains that one “model” has to answer questions quickly, while the other is on a treadmill. How quickly the “model” answers questions will determine how fast the treadmill will go. Brett, Andre, and VJ are running. All of the teams get the same questions, so Angela and Aussie Rachael have to leave so they won’t hear the questions. Ben fires questions at Pickel who does okay. Angela does pretty well, but Mary Alice is upset that she passed on the question, “Name a top designer from Italy.”

Really, Mary Alice? Upset and surprised? Because yes, you truly are grooming these people to be real models by making them act in workout videos with Gilad and answering questions so they don’t have to eat chocolate cake. And having one freaking runway show throughout the entire series, which wasn’t even a real runway show in the first place. If you want people to act like models, Mary Alice, maybe you should start training them to be models instead of circus freaks. Like Jesse. And Mandy Lynn. And Blonde Rachel.

Two bottoms don’t make a top. Don’t say I never taught you anything.

Aussie Rachael is next. She does pretty well. Pickel got 10 right, Angela got 13, and Aussie Rachael got 13 as well. Ooh, it’s a tie for first. Brett has to run at level 9; Andre and VJ have to run at level 6. I’m running at level 0, as I’m sitting on my ass with a glass of shiraz and a mystery-flavored Dum Dum sucker. Oooh! I’m Mary Alice!

The men run. And run some more. Pickel tells Brett that he’d rather he stop than pull a muscle or something. A love muscle. So Brett quits and runs into the waiting, open arms of Pickel. It’s between VJ and Andre, America and Russia. Oh, hey, Pickel says Andre is like the Ivan guy from Rocky. Way to jump on the bandwagon 6 weeks too late, Pickel. VJ and Andre run on the treadmill…

I take a break and drive to Milwaukee to tour the Pabst Blue Ribbon factory because I’ve always wanted to, and when I get back, they’re still running. Mary Alice tells Aussie Rachael and Angela to raise the level to 7 (mph). Ben Stein is seriously texting someone on his phone. I bet he’s sending a text to Matthew Broderick: “Hate this so much. Want 2 kill myself. Bueller 2? What do u think?”

Your pride called. It won’t be home for dinner.

Andre accuses VJ of cheating by “skipping” and holding onto the sides of the treadmill. Which is totally what I would do. Ben tells Andre to shut up as he texts. They raise the level to 8. It’s been an hour. VJ and Andre are sweaty. Aussie Rachael and Angela squirt either water or baby oil on them. Andre quits, so VJ wins. The level of competition astounds Ben Stein. VJ and Angela win a “changing station” close to the shoot, while the others will have “considerably farther” to go. Fascinating.

Oh, Russia, will you never learn?

Back at the house, there’s a letter on the couch. VJ reads it, and it says that he and Angela get to choose someone to share their changing station with. They pick Aussie Rachael. The Alliance of Delusion talks again, Pickel saying how they’re the best 3 guys. Angela overhears them, and like an 8th grader, goes to them and says, “I have a lot of runway experience guys, just so you know.” Andre asks her what clients she’s worked for, and she goes, “Enough.” Brett (I think, since it’s off camera) says, “I never heard of them.” Which is kind of funny. Angela is walking like she’s sore, which is freakin’ dumb since all she did was spray water on VJ. Then she practices her runway walk. It sucks.

Make-up and hair for the “models,” and they go outside where Mary Alice says that today’s challenge is two quick change fashion shows in the living room. Wow, exotic locations – just like real models! Again, Aussie Rachael, VJ, and Angela get a changing room right by the living room. The other suckers have to go through an obstacle course before they change each time. It’s your standard summer camp obstacle course, complete with monkey bars and that part where you put your forehead on the end of a baseball bat and spin 5 times to make yourself dizzy so that everyone can laugh at you. Where’s the part where you have to eat 10 saltine crackers and whistle? What kind of camp did these people go to? Not Camp Christy, I can tell you that!

This has nothing to do with anything, but I love it when homophobes dress like gay guys. That’s all.

To help Mary Alice judge this event, she’s brought in yet another B-list fashion person – John Pfiefer, a model casting agent. He has no idea about the obstacle course, because he would have said, “Hell no!” to Mary Alice if she had told him. The “models” have 15 minutes for each show, but they have to model 3 outfits each. Whoever wins gets the Callback.

They start. I guess they’re modeling street clothes, dress clothes, and then swim wear, in that order. VJ, Angela, Aussie Rachael throw clothes on. Angela is first. Mary Alice and whats-his-name love her hair and the clothes look fabulous on her, they say. VJ’s up, and whats-his-name says “Tommy Hilfiger. I made a T.H. note.” Aussie Rachael is up next. She has a hard time with her shoes, which are at least 2 sizes too big. Angela’s up again. Again, they say she looks great, which is pissing me off.

VJ again, wearing a tuxedo that anyone could rent at the Mr. Tux store at the Topeka shopping mall. Aussie Rachael looks sparkly and really nice. Even though VJ isn’t supposed to go next, because he already has his swimsuit on, he grabs a beach ball (seriously?) and heads to the runway. He hits the beach ball into the audience, which whats-his-name says is “playful.” Mary Alice likes VJ’s body. Join the club, sweetie.

Aussie Rachael comes out and a big-ass earring falls off her ear and lands with a clank on the runway. Angela comes out, and whats-his-name and Mary Alice say she’s “fierce.” That word gets thrown around more in the fashion industry than Naomi Campbell’s cell phone, and I, for one, am just sick of it. Aussie Rachael and Angela end up with 2 minutes to spare.

“Fierce” was over four years ago. Tell your neighbor.

The Alliance of Delusion is up next. Andre calls upon the . . . man, this is so embarrassing . . . “gods of fashion,” and as if that wasn’t bad enough, VH1 does this stupid cheesy effect with lightning and blue lighting or something. And just when I think that I’ve seen the lamest thing possible (for this episode at least), the Alliance of Delusion puts their hands together and shouts, “1, 2, 3, The Fellas!” That’s the name they came up with, apparently. The 16 people watching this show are holding their hands in front of their faces, shaking their heads in embarrassment and shame, not just for the Alliance of Delusion, but also for themselves. Me included.

This is either a cheesy effect or God has finally started watching this show.

They all change into their fashion-y street clothes and go through the obstacle course. First they must cross the pool on a slim bridge, then monkey bar across a pit of mud, then hustle their way through some tires, then do the bat spinny thing. Andre falls over after the bat. Awesome. Dude is dizzy. They all go in together. Pickel interviews that they wanted it to look like a real runway show as much as possible. Here’s a tip for that, Pickel: Try not auditioning for this show.

Brett’s on the runway first. He looks pissed off on the runway. Pickel looks like an idiot. Andre winks on the runway. 9 minutes left for 2 more outfits. They go through the obstacle course. Inside Mary Alice says to whats-his-name, “What is going on out there?” like she has no clue as to what’s taking so long. That’s kind of shady, if you ask me, but then again, it’s Mary Alice.

The men model their tuxedos. Pickel pretends that he’s a James Bond spy-type. VH1, apparently spending the graphics budget for the season on this one episode, does the James Bond opening-shot on Pickel as he walks away. Andre blows a kiss as he leaves the runway. 5 minutes left. Pickel and Brett undress each other outside. Ben Stein actually says, “Teamwork down there – Brett and Pickel down there helping each other take off their ties.” Hee. Skyrockets in flight! Afternoon delight! But there’s no time for the lovin’, as there’s still one more runway show to be done.

I don’t have a caption for this. I just thought I’d thank you for reading my recap by showing you some ass.

Aussie Rachael says that they’re working as a team. Angela, who can’t let anything go without making a bitchy, asinine comment about it, says, “Well in a real show the models don’t really help each other.” She does have a point though – nothing about this debacle of a show is real. The guys model swimsuits with various inflatable objects. Sadly, no inflatable sheep. Aussie Rachael says she did really bad and is going home. Probably so, sweetie.

Judgment time. They all line up. VJ’s first. Whats-his-name didn’t like the “pimp roll” he did while he modeled the street clothes, but other than that he did great. Aussie Rachael gets bonus points for not letting the dropped earring get her all bent out of shape. Angela, sadly, wowed the judges. Now the only thing bigger than Angela’s hair is her head. She does her best to act humble, which for Angela means that she brags about practicing the night before.

Scary Spice is everywhere these days.

Andre’s wink and blown kiss pisses Mary Alice off, while whats-his-name says that he doesn’t think Andre’s a model. Pickel’s tux show was cheesy. Brett didn’t do a good job and Mary Alice tells him he looked pissed on the catwalk. Brett says that you, you know, clench your jaw and squint your eyes. Both whats-his-name and Mary Alice are all, “Oh you poor simpleton, where’d you learn that?” Brett is not happy. And not attractive, I’m just now noticing. He’s all, “I’ve won the last runway challenges, why would I change anything?” And basically Ben and Mary Alice tell him to shut the eff up, which Brett wisely does.

Oh, dammit, Angela wins the challenge. She’s automatically in the next episode. Drink up, people. Andre whines about everything in an interview, and then back at the house. Angela walks by and Andre asks her how she can take credit for winning when other people have helped her with her walk and . . . I don’t know, it’s all very confusing and pointless since it’s coming from Andre. Angela is confused too, as she asks, “What are you talking about?” Andre interviews that he “taught her how to walk,” and I think he means on the runway and not in general, like when she was a toddler. I bet her parents helped with that.

There’s a flashback to the episode where the “models” had to make their own “outfits,” and Andre is indeed giving Angela pointers, but he is in no way teaching her how to walk. Ack! Who cares! I hate both of them. They argue some more. Later, Brett says, “Dude, it’s like now the only way you’re safe is if you win.” Pickel and Andre are all, “Dude, yeah, I know, really, that’s so right.” No one says, “Really, Brett? You think so? You think the point to winning this competition is, like, winning? Shut the hell up, man!” I wish someone would, though.

Again, readers, thanks for being here.

Elimination, bitches! Angela interviews that she expects Brett to go home because he did bad on the runway and had an attitude. Pickel thinks he’s going home. Brett thinks he’ll be in the bottom three. Mary Alice says that she expected to be calling a lady down tonight, but they both stepped it up, so they’re safe. Plus, they aren’t really ladies. Mary Alice says VJ’s safe. The Alliance of Delusion steps down. Mary Alice says Brett was combative and disrespectful to both she and whats-his-name, and she didn’t appreciate him questioning her authority as a judge. She goes on to say that if Brett doesn’t value her opinion, then he doesn’t need to be there. Oh, snap!

Pickel did crappy in the Edge challenge, and Mary Alice hasn’t seen Pickel do well individually. Did you not see him with the chicken last week, Mary Alice? She doesn’t know if Pickel is smart enough or enough of a model. Andre has a lot of modeling experience and was a disaster on the runway. Ben chimes in about how Andre was helping out Pickel and Brett in the challenge today and how he was like a whole new Andre. Mary Alice says that the 3 of them have formed an alliance, and Andre says it’s 4 of them, dragging Aussie Rachael into the fray.

Mary Alice asks VJ what he thinks of it, and he smartly says that he’s here for himself and anyone else who says otherwise is full of shit. Which is true. You know, now that he’s not boning bony Blonde Rachel with his boner, I kind of like VJ. Ben says that unlike “the days of Mandy Lynn,” it’s a hard decision to choose someone to go home. Ben gives a metaphor about the Mir space station and sends Pickel home. Aussie Rachael holds back tears. Pickel blathers on about not doing better and real life and second chances. Brett looks really sad, and VH1 does this awesome thing by slowing the video down and playing tinkly piano music as Brett and Pickel hug for the last time. They say “I love you” to each other, and Pickel seriously interviews that he wants to grab Brett and just hug him, but he can’t, and that’s sad. Awwww! Everyone in the house will wake up at 3 a.m. to the sound of Brett sobbing into his pillow.

Most touching game of tummy sticks ever.

Next Week: The “models” build go-carts and then race them. And then get to be (seriously) car “models” for a Jaguar. Just like Tyra Banks didn’t ever do!