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This week on I Love Money, the challenge is so earth-shatteringly gross I gagged many times while discussing it! This was charming to everyone near me, as I wrote most of this recap in a train station. Hello, world! Enjoy my mucous!
We open to everyone lounging in the living room while The Entertainer runs his mouth, a shock to no one. He’s convinced he’ll be the Paymaster this week, so he tells everyone to be worried and then adds, “Except for you” to Heather. Nothing like keeping your alliance a secret! Heather isn’t exactly reassured, since The Entertainer is incompetent and everyone hates him. Personally I can’t believe she wouldn’t want to be associated with that bag of tricks. She decides to hunt out some sympathy, so she searches for Megan, who’s busy being a cripple.
Lend her a hand, will ya?
Heather joins Brandi and Megan on the lawn, and she’s so super fake it’s delicious. Last episode she was screaming about Megan being a whore, now she’s sitting on the grass and mumbling, “So excited, like yayyy, funnnn!” Love it! When the Brokedowns ignore her ass, she tries to make friends with Lily instead, but even the dog is too smart for her games. Heather has no choice but to flounce inside, but it’s good timing anyway – it’s time for the call from CJ!
This challenge will test their strength, agility and accuracy. It sounds enjoyable but if you recall from last week, the challenge is a fucking Spitathon and that’s enjoyable for no one. Megan worries about the competition since she doesn’t know what agility means. Sadly I’m not just ragging on her, she legitimately asks that question. She asks Brandi, the Harvard graduate.
Wait, did you ask for the number of my manicurist?
Everyone loads into the vans and heads off to a soccer field. Toastee wears a tiara for the trip because well, of course she does. The stipulations for this round are similar to the last – the first person to lose is in the strongbox, the last person standing is the Paymaster. Simple enough. CJ introduces the challenge, the grand ol’ Spit Olympics, and Pumkin is delighted! Look at the history she created! Everyone laughs and laughs, except for Whiteboy who seriously does not want to catch hepatitis and resents everyone in the house who has it. Read: everyone in the house.
The challenge will have the houseguests spitting for distance, height, and accuracy. So fucking foul. They start off with the long spit and it involves terminology like “spit speckle.” I wish I could stop throwing up in my mouth but I can’t! It is so damn gross, and I’d love to get past it but cannot. We’re going to keep this shit short and sweet, kids. Everyone drinks green liquid and then spits it all the fuck over, and it’s really something. It inspires Heather to talk about her bronchitis, with an emphasis on the “ch.” I wish Heather was just doing a voiceover on top of all the spitty sounds, I could get into that! Luckily Brandi helps ease the grossness of it all, delighting the world with the fact that she’s “better at swallowing than spitting.” Thanks, girl! Hilariously, VH1 has to censor the word swallowing. In that light, she might as well have said cum-guzzling, it all plays the same.
The Entertainer worries he won’t make it past the first round, since he’s never spit in his life. Yeah, I totally believe that, what with him smoking for 45 years. Nice try. He manages to come in first in the distance round, though! Megan, Toastee and Brandi are kicked out, with Megan being in the strongbox for sure. First they have a spitathon and now they’re taking my Megan away? Damn the man!
The second round is the high spit, and again The Entertainer out-garfs them all. Hoopz, Heather and Pumkin are eliminated, and that means it’s down to the boys. Heather is stoked that The Entertainer is doing decently at something for the first time in years, but reminds us she only cares that he’s loyal and has a heart. That’s all that matters! Why not make an alliance with Lily then, shit. Anyway, the last round is for accuracy, so the fellas have to spit into targets and you know what? It’s still gross, although the spray is minimal. Thank you, Jesus.
The requirements for the accuracy round are to hit as many targets as possible in one minute. The Entertainer wants to produce liquid from other places, but it’s a no-go even though he illustrates it quite nicely.
Double Fisters Anonymous.
He hits almost everything with his mouth, so I reckon he and Brandi could be quite a pair. Whiteboy is awful, and while Real is better, that’s not saying much. The Entertainer wins! As always, he’s super duper calm. CJ reminds them that someone will be leaving Mexico tomorrow, and The Entertainer hollers, “Not me!” In case anyone had any doubt, right? He’s so casual about celebrating things, people tend to miss his victories.
Everyone heads back to the house, hopefully to never speak of the spitting contest again. Whiteboy, Hoopz and Real are worried since The Entertainer wants them gone. Other people he wants gone include: everyone. He makes sure to tell this to the house, but he adds that Megan’s the least of his problems, which is a pretty sweet change of pace for her. Finally it doesn’t matter that she’s a conniving ho – she’s a non-threatening conniving ho. He tells the girls he wants Real and Hoopz in the box, and Megan promises to make it happen. This pisses Heather off though. She wants Megan in the box, except…that already happened like ten minutes ago. Awkward. The Entertainer threatens to send Megan home if she’s annoying or something like that, I don’t know. It’s too distracting that he’s drinking an entire pitcher of smoothie.
Nom nom nom?
The Entertainer travels upstairs to chat with Whiteboy. He wants to “call troops with Hoopz,” which I don’t know what that means but he should probably be talking to her about it instead. Whiteboy calls her a smooth gorilla in response. I know what that means – Whiteboy’s a total racist, right? Obviously. While they talk game, Megan lingers in the doorway and just gawks at them. Surprisingly that doesn’t inspire them to keep talking strategy in front of her. Turns out they don’t like that, who knew? They finally guilt her out of the room, and The Entertainer resumes kissing butt. He swears up and down he’ll never do Whiteboy wrong, never ever, and they fist-bump 44 times. It’s worth mentioning The Entertainer is fabulously drunk, so he tells Whiteboy to keep bumping until their fists bleed. Whiteboy does it since he’s the cream of the intelligence crop, and then The Entertainer drinks the blood. Screw hepatitis, watch out for AIDS, Whitey!
The next morning, Heather and The Entertainer meet outside to chat before the vault. He promises he’s sending Megan home. He just wants Hoopz and Real in the box to make them sweat, and then they’ll all wind up in a big happy alliance. I’m so sure Heather and Hoopz will be down for that. Most importantly, Heather’s Bret tattoo is poking out while they talk, and it just kind of reminds us all why she needs to win – gotta get that shit lasered.
Megan corners The Brokedowns and informs them The Entertainer and Whiteboy are striking a deal. The obvious response to this is to make sure Brandi and Heather wind up in the box, that way Heather can go home. I think they’re forgetting The Entertainer is the Paymaster this week, but all right. Their conversation ceases when Heather comes inside and says, “Toaster Oven, what’s going on?” and legitimately strokes Toastee’s hair. I don’t know why, but this is so fucking cute even if it’s fake; Heather should win the cash automatically.
Not as cute: gold teeth.
The houseguests pile into the vault, where Megan’s check is immediately placed into the box, sad panda. Real does his usual routine of asking who should go in the beezy, starting off with Hoopz. No one raises their hand, not even Heather! Way to make The Entertainer proud, lady. Everyone votes for Heather, and that makes Real go, “Woooow” ala Flava Flav. Y’all know he wants to bone Hoopz, so I guess he figures that’s the way to her heart? It’s real sexy. Then everyone votes for Brandi and voila, the vault ceremony is done! It lasted all of 15 seconds so hey, not too bad.
CJ calls The Entertainer in and reveals the nominees. As usual, he is outraged about life. Everyone fucking lied to him and fuck this and fuck that! When he angrily returns to the house, Heather immediately tattles on the other girls and informs him that no one voted for Hoopz. She thinks that will make sure Megan is eliminated, but The Entertainer deduces she didn’t vote for Hoopz either. Lo, he is pissed! There’s a twist that’ll shake up the entire I Love Money household.
Megan and Brandi strategize over how to get Heather sent home. It’s going to take a lot of work at the power outing, but they think they can do it. On that note, that’s their cue to go! They report to a beach, and a friendly old dude seduces them all with an American barbecue with American food. They all scream like they just won the grand prize, which is odd. I’m a picky eater so I get the joy of burgers and fries, and I know they’re in Mexico, but wouldn’t you think craft services is offering that very thing? Chill out, moneylovers!
Everyone half-heartedly plays some beach games. Brandi and Megan are committed to doing anything to stick around, including blowing The Entertainer, so naturally they’re out there frolicking. This worries Heather, but she’s fully prepared for them to be “the skanks that they are,” which is a delightful way to put it. Well said, well said! Everything’s coming up roses ’til The Entertainer informs them he’ll probably get rid of one of the weaker people this time. I was going to question why he thinks that’s the best plan, but he explains, “Sometimes my thinking’s just not rational,” so…that about sums it up. Thanks, Frank! He ends the conversation by talking about macaroni salad, so they accomplish a lot.
When the solo date comes around, The Entertainer chooses Heather. Shock of all shocks! He banishes the other girls to a blanket, and Heather is like, “Um, wait, what are we supposed to talk about?” He’s still furious that Hoopz and Real didn’t wind up in the box, didn’t even get a vote, and he has to berate her for it. She responds by being like, “Well, I was depressed!”
The Entertainer is impressed.
I guess rationally she could be upset about 12 Pack but it’s funnier to think this show is just making her suicidal. Not that I hope she offs herself or anything, I like her! While they argue, Brandi and Megan decide they’ll confront The Entertainer as soon as the solo date is over. Brandi believes he should get rid of Heather “if he wants to, like, make good plans with people who will make good plans with him.” Oh, well in that case. Now I agree.
As soon as the girls are allowed to rejoin the party, Brandi informs The Entertainer she’s a licensed masseuse. Whenever I hear people say that, I always try to gauge how much you’d ever want a massage from them. One of my co-workers does massage therapy, and she is literally the grossest person that could ever come near you. I suppose Brandi would be decent though, even though her tits would be all over your back. For some people that’s probably a selling point. She promises to dig her tits into The Entertainer’s back as soon as they get home, and Megan offers a foot massage as well. Y’all know The Entertainer loves him some feet, so he’s stoked! She should’ve just offered to let him touch hers; that would’ve guaranteed her safety.
The girls stay true to their word and start rubbing him down once they get in the door. The Entertainer tells them the massages don’t have to be sexual, and they’re like, “Uh, ya think?” In confessional, Brandi tells us she doesn’t even want to touch The Entertainer with his clothes on, let alone naked. Can’t really blame her for that one. She and Megan push the idea of sending Heather home, and his eyes are basically rolling back in his head from sheer pleasure, so he’ll do whatever they tell him. It’s worth mentioning that the massage lotion is all flaking off his back, so it looks like he’s got really crusty dandruff during this whole scene, which is a total bonus.
After they’re done, it’s time for elimination! The trusty cameraman takes the time to view the most important part of the ceremony.
Heather knows she’s safe since she and The Entertainer are so tight, whereas Megan is straight-up terrified. Brandi, as usual, is thinking about puppies and kitties and things that smell nice. The Entertainer starts the eviction ceremony by announcing that Megan loves bathing suits, which personally I’m thrilled to find out. I had no idea. Afterwards he starts in on Heather, bitching that she didn’t want him to be close to her after 12 Pack bounced. She reminds him of her raging depression, and then she’s like, “Wait, when did this even happen?” Mama took a lot of pills to handle that depression, you see.
Heather says it’s so obvious that they’re friends, so Brandi chimes in and sasses, “That’s not true!” She’s all chicken-necking like you see on The People’s Court. They start fighting a very typical I Love Money fight — you’re a liar, no you’re a liar! Brandi and Megan are mostly laughing it off, while Heather pretty much loses her shit. Brandi gets in a good jab by remarking, “You’re not at a strip club, honey. You don’t need to scream at me.”
The fight is more like a game of Charades.
It finally boils down to Heather thinking everyone’s jealous that she landed 12 Pack, although I’m like 99% sure that’s not the case. I mean, really! He’s not a catch at all, even in the reality TV world. It drags on for so long that The Entertainer and CJ just sit down and wait for it to finish so they can freaking send someone home.
25 minutes later, The Entertainer finally calls someone to the front. Hold onto your hat, it’s Brandi! She thinks it’s because Frank’s in love with her, and while I’d like to say this is stupid, he totally asks for a kiss. Smooth. He settles for one on the cheek. After that, it’s down to Heather and Megan, which seriously blows. I love Heather and I love Megan – can’t this be a week where no one gets to leave? Every other show does it! Don’t buck the trend!
The Entertainer explains he had to actually think about this decision, whereas he usually just does things and regrets them later. With that, he calls Megan up first. He reminds her he’s been dying to send her home, and then he presents possibly the greatest thing ever on television.
God, it’s just the icing on the cake that Lily is spelled wrong, isn’t it? The whole thing is a work of art! Even though he obviously devoted hours to making this, he tells Megan he’s giving her a check! Megan is staying! Heather’s peacing out!
Heather is motha-effing pissed, so much so that she actually cries. I don’t even remember her crying that much on Rock of Love, although that could just be memory loss from watching so much bad TV. Still, she cries and says she wants to go home. Lucky for her, that’s where she’s headed! She refuses to hug The Entertainer and then talks trash, and oh, you know the drill.
There’s no show next week, but on the 14th we’re in for a doozy! Check this: not only is there a food fight, there’s a juice fight. You know how you prove you’re serious? Pouring Juicy Juice on someone’s skull. Word.