Real World Hollywood: Invoke the Doughnut

Hello gorgeous dolls, and you were right. Don’t you love conversations that start out that way? Actually, let me amend – some of you were right, I have had no love for the Real World Hollywood lately. It’s the petty fights that get me. They’re stupid, pointless and insulting to the viewer. Unlike drunken hookups, which everyone knows both stimulate and challenge the mind of the viewer.

Invoking the doughnut.

I was ripe for a Real World renaissance, and as luck would have it, I spoke to Flippy on Wednesday morning and was told that not only had he met Dave Dolt at the Improv Olympic (he was cute and nice, he says), but that he would be there again that night, along with three other cast members…and they would be performing! I knew it was just what I needed. I immediately reshuffled that evening’s plans – “For the Real World?” scoffed my dinner companion, “Come on, Chicky, if you don’t want to have dinner with me, just say so.” – but whatever, plans changed (and they actually morphed into better plans than they were in the first place) and I was in!

I stood by until Flippy trudged up the stairs, bogged down with about four cocktails. “Oh, let me help – I’ll take mine,” I offer helpfully/selfishly – I’ve seen those Improv rehearsals, and I felt like I might definitely need to be drunk to appreciate this.

Then it’s time for the show. The theme of the show is “Armando”. I have no idea what the hell this means, but Flippy was throwing around “Armandos” right and left, so I just went with it and sat there the whole time wondering, “Who’s playing Armando?” Except for the last ten minutes of the show, when I was wondering, “Isn’t it over yet?” I think Improv reaches it’s point of diminishing return after about forty-five minutes. Just in case you were wondering.

And now for what I’m sure you really care about, the gossip! First of all, Blondie Kim is actually kind of gorgeous in person. She has really strong features that on TV translate to masculine but in real life are very 80′s supermodel-esque, and yes, that’s a big compliment. Her hair didn’t look quite so choppy, and it was very shiny. Her JC Penny outfit made me want to vomit, but I’m telling you, with a stylist and some proper lighting, Blondie has some serious potential. You can see this all for yourself in Clipgasm, by the way, but you know I have to throw my two cents in about everything.

Dolt looks the same as on TV – compact and cute. As Flippy put it, “He would get work. He could play, you know, the little Marine in NCIS or something.” And here’s the real surprise – they both did not suck! They were both pretty adorable and engaging. They told funny stories, and then the Improvers, well, improv-ed in between. I was prepared to hate the improv, but it was actually really funny. Not as funny as Flippy’s sketch comedy, but I really did laugh a lot. There was one point when Dolt said something really mean to Blondie (perhaps it’s in the clip) and Flippy yelled out, “Hit him, Kim!” I wish she had, but she handled it with class. Dammit.

Their performance begged two interesting questions – one, where the hell was Rick James? I had been told that Will would be at the show as well, and I was looking forward to seeing him most of all, but he didn’t show. Flake. Rick James, you officially owe me. You can pay me back by cutting your damn hair.

But the real question I had was how could two people so cute and engaging come across as such brainless assholes on television? Flippy and I discussed, and he made a really good point…he said that they’re taped non-stop for months, and when editing time comes, they only show them at their worst. This is a good point, but I’m not drinking the Kool Aid just yet. And with that, here comes the recap!

Man I wish I could have mocked this headband in person.

And I’m actually pretty excited, cause Meathead Joey’s coming home! That dumb lug cracks me up. Blondie and Goody Sarah are also really excited to see him, and as soon as he’s back in the hallowed temporary fencing surrounding the Real World house, they jump all over him. Meat’s decked out like an extra from the Sopranos, by the way – tight, white wifebeater with a ton of man cleavage, and a colorful warmup suit. If only there were rehab for fashion. He’s so happy to be back, and he reports that rehab was “exhilarating and uplifting”. Yeah, the first time’s always fun. Too bad it never sticks.

Sober people don’t wear sideways caps over bandanas. You’ll learn.

Dolt’s “pumped for the J to the O to the E!” he tells us. Yay! Where are your pom poms? And to prove his pumped-ness, he follows Meathead into the bedroom to tell him how excited he is to do all the fun, non-alcoholic stuff they talked about…after he’s done getting plastered and then scraping himself off the gutter outside the house, that is. That’s right, Meat has very inconsiderately chosen to return from rehab on the same day that Dolt’s pals are visiting from Ohio. Ugh, more than one Dolt is too much to bear.

Oh, no prob, Meat insists as he unpacks his bipolar meds. Oh my. A gift bag of meds and off you go to the Real World house. Well done, Dr. Drew. This should work out just fine. Dolt feels bad about being stuck in the middle, between his friends who need him to take him to all the cool tourist clubs, and his roomie in recovery.

That night, it’s improv night, but Meat’s too busy sulking around the kitchen to go. “Oh man…if I had known, I would have napped earlier,” is his lame excuse. Blondie informs us that while they intend to curb their drinking around Meat, they don’t plan to curb the partying in general.

Now it’s Brianna The Stripper’s turn to console Meathead. She realizes that it’s going to be hard for him to adjust – he’s been gone for thirty days, and that’s a long time to be gone from the house. She’s sympathetic, but only for a second, and then it’s time for a wild night out improving. Prety Greg seems sympathetic too, but again, not enough to keep him in. And as for Dolt, his brilliant advice is to “hit the sauna, and sweat it out”. Just sweat out the alcoholism. It’s easy!

Get close enough to the sauna that it disintegrates that bandana. Good bond. Lata sucka!

“Bye, we love you!” yells Blondie as insincerely as humanly possible. Then Rick James runs by, “Goin’ to improv!” he yells, as he passes Meat by. Was this staged? It’s so sad. Complete with gloomy background music and all. Meat reunites with the punching bag, his only friend. He says he feels weird – it’s good to be back, but it’s overwhelming. Poor Meat. They could have at least had a welcome home potluck dinner.

Over at the improv theater, it’s not all fun and games – seems like Stripper, Goody and Prety are feeling a little guilt. Prety points out that it must have been hard to leave the rehab, cause they were like a family…guess he missed the hundred times when Meathead called the Real Worlders his family. Stripper laments that she wished there was something more she could do. Well how about not abandoning him on his first night back and sober? Just a thought. Just a wild, out-there thought.

Back at the house, Meat’s on the phone with Shannon, a friend from rehab. She asks how it is back in the house, and he says it kind of sucks. He’s looking at things differently, and he’s realizing that “this town” doesn’t care about anybody. I’m guessing he means “this town” as a euphemism for his roommates. I feel for the guy even more, but the sad fact of life is that very few people ever really give a shit and the sooner you figure it out and stop expecting things from everyone, the better off you’ll be.

Shannon tells him to give it a little time but Meat feels like he has no one to talk to him and comfort him. Rehab was the first time since he was sixteen that he was sober for twenty-eight days, and he feels like he found himself. Then he starts sobbing. He looks so small and helpless next to the enormous telephone receiver. Meat needs a hug.

Well, you could invite him to make out in the hot tub.

And just as Shannon’s telling him she doesn’t know who he’s going to be able to trust, Goody comes walking in! And everything that I hate about her kind of disappears for a minute, as she tiptoes by the phone room and stage whispers, “Joey!” She knows the environment he’s in now is the opposite of what he’s left, she knows he needs someone and she wants to be that person for him. Of course, cause it’s Goody she probably wants to be there for him less to actually be there for him, and more so she can prance around telling everyone how she’s there for him, but I don’t care and neither does Meat.

“Who else is here?” he asks expectantly. Just me, she replies, and he comments that he knew it would be her. Yeah, cause she doesn’t party anyway. She gives him a hug and tells him she’s happy he’s back. He’s happy that there’s at least one person in the house who doesn’t have to drink every night. Now if he can just train himself to wrap himself in blankets, sit on his ass and do nothing all day, this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.

And cut to the rest of the group, out at the bar and partying it up. Ugly Slutty Liar Reva is there whoring it up with the roomies, and they all seem pretty wasted. And then they head back to the house, drunk and carrying on like always. I know I should not be shocked at the insensitivity of Real Worlders, but I am anyway. They can’t take one fucking night off? Perhaps Meat isn’t the only one with a problem.

So now they’re in the house with the usual cadre of hangers on and desperate hos with fake hair. Dolt’s getting it on in one of the bedrooms, Blondie’s yelling for Rick James, Ugly Slutty is parked on Prety’s lap laughing her whore ass off – Stripper’s the only one who makes a half-assed attempt to tell them to keep it down. But it doesn’t matter, Meat’s already woken up. “Well, I may as well just start my day now,” he whines passive aggressively. Then he tells them they need to have a talk tomorrow, cause “this can’t be happening.” He’s right, but as bad as I feel for the guy, he needs to go. His odds suck to start off with, but there’s no way he can survive the constant party. And it’s a bit unfair to turn the Real World house into the Rehab house. And when I say unfair, I mean unfair to me. I did not sign up to write about sober people.

Get a new house, dude.

The next day, it’s time for Meat to return to the improv theater, and Charna’s thrilled to see him. “Ah ha ha ha ha ha!” she yells like a feisty Grandma. She’s proud of him for taking care of his problems. Finally, someone who’s willing to play along! As they form a semi-circle around her, she tells them they have very important improv business to discuss. Prety looks like he’s about to fall asleep. They are set to perform that very week! Goody is skeptical. Blondie tells us “We have to perform improv. In front of people.” Well, just get on stage and say it like that honey, it actually sounded cute.

Rick James reminds us that even though it’s a class, it’s also a job and it needs to be treated as such. Charna makes sure they know that there is to be no more skipping classes or performances and yeah, that means you Prety. Then they jump into an improv exercise that seems like some free association kind of thing. It doesn’t seem so difficult, but poor, dopey Meat is confused as hell. And he’s already pretty far into the journey of self-pity, so this is just one more thing making him feel like crap.

I can’t recall how the word association game started, but it ended with words like “wanna-be stars” and “addiction”. Luckily, Charna has a little sensitivity, and saves what has become an obviously very uncomfortable improv game for Meat with a phrase that’s had me laughing for days every time I think of it – “Let’s invoke the doughnut!” I am serious. Ladies and gentlemen…the thought-provoking art of improv.

“Hot bread!” breathes Prety.

“Puffy dough!” yells Dolt.

“Big belly!” adds Meathead. Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there, short bus. Charna patiently explains that they’re all envisioning the same doughnut, and Meat’s kind of on the wrong page. Well, I know she takes her improv really, really, really seriously, but she could have let that one go. Meat immediately gets overly apologetic for messing up her game. But it’s okay, Charna tells him, she depends on him to make mistakes. How else is she supposed to feel superior?

If everyone knew how to invoke a doughnut, I wouldn’t have a job.

Meat tells us that improv is something that will propel him to be a better actor, and he doesn’t want to screw up. Later that day, they’re all at a bar called Big Wangs. It’s loud, full of frat boy types, and looks like it serves beer and chicken wings. It’s a safe bet that it’s nowhere I’ll ever be.

But apparently, it’s Real World heaven, cause who should come prancing up to the cameras but Janelle, of Real World Key West fame! Well, maybe not so much fame as brief notoriety. I wonder how long she stalked the production before she figured out a time when she could ever so conveniently bump into one of the new cast. Anyway, Janelle immediately sets her radar on Rick James, and tells him she’s going to hook him up with some really good people to help him with his music.

And guess who’s accompanied Janelle on her mission to extend to the sixteenth minute? It’s her Key West roomie, Zach! Cute as ever, and dopey as ever. “So you produce music? Not videos?” he says to Rick, somehow managing to look confused and sage at the same time. Rick tells us that Janelle has a lot of connections in the music industry. Oh yes, that Janelle’s a real Personal Relations pro. And he wants to take the opportunity to “network” with her. And by “network”, he means – well, we all know what he means. This is Hollywood, after all.

But before Janelle hooks him up with any of her fabulous producer pals, he wants her to hear his music, and he wants her opinion. Good call on the chick skimming through her iPhone, telling you how many important people she knows. Making her feel like her stamp of approval is a necessary step before proceeding in his career is an excellent way to get that “networking” going. Cause let’s be honest, if you need help with a smoky eye, Janelle’s your girl, but she’s no Pharrell.

Timbaland let it go to voicemail but I’ll keep trying.

So, “networking” or that sixteenth minute, who knows, but that night Janelle calls Rick. She listened to his music, and anoints him “very talented”. Well, now it’s official. She knows a lot of people in the music industry, you know. She gives Rick the name of her friend who she thinks can help him. He thanks her, and tells her that she’s cute and he wants to take her out sometime to thank her for all her help on his road to fame.

Later on, Dolt and his buddies whoop and yell and drink beer out of the side of the can. I’m sure there is some kind of official phraseology for this type of beer imbibing, but I never did beer, not even in college, so I wouldn’t know. And Meat’s in the kitchen with Stripper, giving her hell for not even giving him one night sober. He’s hurt, and thinks that the roommates were full of shit for telling him they’d try and be understanding to his problems.

And there’s icicles on my television from the chill coming off Stripper. She tells him she never made any promises about helping him, which is a total lie. She had a whole song and dance during the rehab visit about all the non-drinking fun they were planning. Really, what happened to bowling?

Then she tells him that she has no plans to accommodate him whatsoever, and that nobody “owes him” anything. This infuriates me. Nobody owes anybody anything, that’s true, but all the guy’s looking for is a friend! Meat echoes that sentiment, and I don’t know what it’s all coming to when Meathead is the only one who gets it. “Look out for yourself, that’s what I say,” Stripper advises him in a singsong voice. I don’t get this ho at all. She’s either the most sensitive in the house, or the most insensitive. Pick a lane and go with it, honey.

And then it’s time for Prety’s turn on the phone, and it’s his Mom with the news that there’s a fashion show in LA that she can get him into, and it would be great exposure for him! See, my show has a Dina Lohan too! I would bet a lot of money that Prety’s Mom is also his “manager” and runs around sprouting lots of lines like “people who aren’t in our business just wouldn’t understand.”

My mama says I’m handsome enough to model.

Prety listens intently to the news, and he’s supposed to call some family friend named Julius. And Julius gets Prety the coveted audition! It’s for another random clothing line that no one’s heard of, and they’re all set up in a very fancy warehouse. Unfortunately, the show producer, who’s my new favorite person ever, tells Prety that he’s too “beefy” for the show. Brilliant! But Prety takes it well, he says that sometimes in modeling, you get rejected.

But even though he’s too much beef for them, they tell him they still want to attend the show. And even though the show’s on the same night as Charna’s precious improv show, Prety agrees. That’s right, he’s about to cross Charna! Smackdown!

That night, the roomies head out to the improv theater, and Meat’s pulled it together to join them. But the moment he sets foot inside, he’s losing it. The smell of alcohol, the ice in the glass..it’s too much for Meat. Okay, seriously, whoever released a recovering addict into this really needs their rehab license taken away. Stick to Loveline, Dr. Drew. Even I know this is a bad idea, and I live for the three martini lunch.

Back at the house, Meat realizes that everywhere he goes, there’s liquor. “I shouldn’t even see alcohol!” he yells. “Everyone thinks it’s a joke and it’s not! I’m a human being!” Well, it’s nothing personal sweetie, but isn’t the first thing they teach in rehab to be accountable for your actions? There’s always a choice, and yours must be recovery over reality show pseudo-fame. Well, unless they’re doing a second season of Celebrity Rehab. If that skank from the second season of American Idol could get cast, you may have a shot. Oh, no pun intended, but good one, huh?

You’d be a straight up twist on that show.

That night, Meat lies in bed playing with his bipolar meds. Dolt tells Rick James about Meat’s little hissy fit, and Rick’s response is, “Do we need to call his people?” His people. It’s like that Ellen and Beyonce commercial. Everyone’s got “people”. Anyway, Dolt’s worried that Meat’s going to lose it like he did the last time, and everyone agrees that they don’t want to go through that again. Now, while I think they were jerks for running around drinking the night he got paroled, I do see their point. It’s not a halfway house, and it’s not their fault that Meat can’t control his addictions.

But onto lighter things…Rick James has a date with Janelle! It looks like they meet up at the improv theater, and what the hell is Rick wearing? Shorts, scruffy t-shirt and a hoodie? With a white sweatband? He keeps trying to steer the conversation to Janelle, but she keeps bringing it back to business. There is no way this high maintenance honey is going to go for this. She’s in it for the excess camera time, and to try and talk some bored producer into giving her a spin-off. But, Rick insists on walking her to her car anyway.

He enjoys her company, she’s fun to be around and he can be himself around her. Really? Well, maybe I had her pegged wrong, but I really don’t think so. Oh, and he has a kindergarten crush on her. En route to her car, he suggests Chinese food, and she’s all over it. An extra ten seconds of camera time? She’ll take it!

And we’re having dessert.

The next day, Stripper’s on the phone with Charna. Ugh, what now? Well, Stripper’s going to be missing the big improv show because she’s got to go back to Philadelphia for her court date. Oh please, no more Philly. The stripper shantytown was just too depressing. Well, even Charna can’t argue improv over possible jail time, so she has no choice but to let her go. Although, maybe she does have a choice, after all, it’s not like she owes Stripper anything.

At the final rehearsal, all I pick up are a number of dumb jokes about soda, and Rick James peeing his pants. Highbrow comedy, indeed. But Charna’s impressed, and she tells them that they’re making “sophisticated” mistakes. And she doesn’t want to put Meat on the spot, but she thinks he’s ready to perform. Although he says he’s not even comfortable around the group yet, he still agrees to do it.

Then he gets on the phone and whines to his ex-girlfriend about how every day’s a bad day. He’s worried about staying sober. He’s worried about improv. He’s worried about his career. But he knows his main focus needs to be staying sober and alive. Actually dear, your main focus needs to be getting the hell out of that den of sin before you even think about your career, but all Meat does is read his yellow photocopied packet on how not to relapse.

And while everyone else is prepping for opening night at the Improv Olympic, Prety is getting a call from family friend / model maker, Julius. How fast can you get here, Julius asks? Twenty minutes, Prety replies and heads out the door in a flash. “I want to be a high fashion model, not an improver,” he tells us disdainfully. Duh. The Jacket Move positively reeks of high fashion.

This is an explanation, not an excuse.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group is making good on that promise to not drink in the house by whooping around the kitchen table and doing shots. Blondie has a bunch of foil in her hair, does she do her own highlights? That would explain a lot. Goody’s annoyed – she thought that Meat coming home from rehab would be a slap in the face to the rest of the group, but no one else is accommodating his recovery besides her. She and Meat drive together to the theater. Meat tells us she’s the last person he would have expected to reach out to him, but it’s incredible that she has. I agree. I am loving Goody today.

As soon as they get to the theater, Meat launches into one of his patented soliloquies about how he doesn’t want to screw up ’cause he doesn’t want to look like a screw up. Articulate as ever. And I know I’ve said this a hundred times already, but poor Meat. Someone did some damage to him to make him always feel like he’s no good. Anyway, he’s really nervous to perform in front of people, which kind of makes me think acting might not be the way to go career-wise, but whatever, let’s just get him through this performance. Go Meaty!

And Meat’s nerves are the least of the group’s concerns, cause it isn’t long before Charna notices that Prety is missing! He may show up, Blondie offers, but Charna’s not having it. “That’s why we did class early today, so we could do the show,” she bitches. Then we cut to Prety, not even at the fashion show, but at the after party for the fashion show. He’s sitting next to a girl who looks like an Asian porn star, complete with the lollipop and everything. Girls who suck on lollies out at the club annoy me. It’s too obviously to be sexy.

And they’re usually obviously not.

Oh, and Prety’s doing his white boy dance while he sits at a banquette. I’m bummed that we weren’t treated to the Jacket Move, but the white boy sitting down dance is pretty good too. Back at the improv theater, Goody isn’t surprised that Prety hasn’t shown up. They head into rehearsal, and pick up a couple of stray improvers to take the place of Stripper and Prety.

The show is introduced, and it’s a “cage match”, improv style. Will there be actual cages? Cause that would make things a lot more interesting. But no, it’s just two groups of improvers performing against each other and it’s a battle for the audience applause-o-meter to decide. Dolt introduces the group, which has been named Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, or for short, WTF. Because, as Dolt explains, that’s people’s reaction when they see the Real World group perform – WTF that was awesome, or WTF that was terrible. Having seen the show myself, my reaction was WTF where’s Rick James, but I guess that wasn’t a consideration in the naming process.

We don’t see too much of the performance, but what we do see doesn’t look so hilarious. But the audience laughs a little. Meat plays a dumb cop, and he owns it. But after the show, and the crippling loss against the other student team in the cage match, Meat is miserable. He’s really unhappy with his performance, but he’s the only one. The rest of them loved being on the stage. Rick James wants to get up there and do it again! Rick tries to get Meathead to lighten up, but Meat’s now officially lost down the road of self-pity and he’s not having it. He takes off down the street, and Goody runs after him. Damn, this girl’s persistent. She better start doing something to make me hate her again next week, cause right now I kind of want her as a friend. Also, I love her hair up in a ponytail, very cute look.

Meat is really on the edge. He wants a drink so bad, and he’s got terrible anxiety because he knows that when he goes to sleep, he’s just going to be woken up at 2 am and not be able to get back to sleep. Goody suggests calling the rehab counselor, or as Rick James would say, Meat’s “people” and Meat agrees cause he doesn’t know what else to do. “I’m gonna break,” he says, and you can hear it in his voice. Bad performance, my ass.

Don’t worry. We’re almost home. There’re pajamas and cartons of ice cream there.

As soon as they get home, they call the rehab lady, and even though it sounds like they’ve woken her up, she’s ready to help. “Didn’t you discuss a plan of action?” she wonders about the roommates. Meat promptly informs her that they did, but it was bullshit, which I think she kind of got during meeting anyway.

Then Dolt shows up at the house with Charna. I guess he realized Meaty was upset, and thought Sharna could fix it. Or maybe she wanted to be the fixer, whatever, but Charna’s very sweet and supportive. Goody explains to her about how the addiction lady came to the house to prep them, but nobody stuck to the plan. Then we bounce back to Meat’s onstage insecurities, and how ashamed of himself he was on stage. I don’t understand why, the role of dumb cop was pretty much made for him.

Charna tells him he’s crazy, he did a great job, and it was wonder in itself that the group was able to take the stage after only four weeks of training. Most groups have to wait a year! Wow, free cable really expedites your improv career. And then she makes a really brilliant point – she looks at Meat and says tells him it’s obvious from his appearance that he’s a perfectionist, but he has to understand that things don’t happen overnight. “If I came to you and said I wanted to lose forty pounds by tomorrow…” she tells him, and point taken. Charna’s good. She’s another one who better do something annoying and fast so I don’t have to like her anymore. Actually, she’s about to do the coolest thing ever, but we’ll get to that shortly.

Not to be rude, but have you considered a lap band?

Meat thinks that Sharna helped, and once again reminds us that he needs to focus on sobriety. Then MOVE OUT! Cause the partying hasn’t stopped. More drinking and carousing in the house, and it’s keeping Meat up again. Prety arrives home from the fashion show party, and meets up with Rick James, where he is dining in the sauna. Rick informs Prety that Charna is really upset with him, and that apparently, she was unaware that Prety was going to be a no-show that night. Rick says it’s obvious that Prety just doesn’t care.

The next morning, Meaty’s bitching and complaining again. Did rehab teach him that the best way to resolve things is to whine about it rather than take action? And I don’t think anyone wants to hear it anymore. “I’m burnt out man, I can’t take it anymore,” he finishes dramatically. Rick simply finishes cooking his eggs and walks away.

Meanwhile, Goody’s on the phone with her boyfriend, Mopey Brian (or was it Ryan? I forget) and now she’s crying. Nobody gets any sleep, she’s in over her head with the whole saving Meathead thing, and she’s realizing she can’t fix things for him. Mopey dutifully tells her how unfair the whole thing is to her. Saint Goody. But she’s really emotionally exhausted, so she calls Charna and tells her she won’t be in class that day.

Now if I was Charna, I’d have reached my limit with these whiners and their constant excuses. Get a grip, people! It’s friggin’ improv, for crying out loud, it’s not like they’re working with the terminally ill. And at class that day, Sharna indeed has had enough. She really lays into them about how inconsiderate they’ve been to Meat, and just when I’m really starting to like her, she goes and throws Chris Farley into the mix. Oh Charna, you’re so cool for being friends with famous dead people. But James, her gay sidekick, is even cooler cause apparently, he was best friends with Farley. Liar, everyone knows that David Spade was Farley’s bestie. I didn’t see James co-starring in Black Sheep, did you?

Maybe James is the dude in the stripes.

But the ancillary point of the Chris Farley name drop is to let them know that addiction really can kill you, and after he died, they all felt like they failed him in not trying to help. She basically lays a huge guilt trip on them. Meat’s touched, and he notes that maybe some people do actually care. If only he could detour off his journey to Poor Me Town, he would realize that he actually has more people who care than most people do – Charna, Goody and his rehab pals, but I don’t think Meat’s ready to take that turn yet. Meat drinks to cover up a lot of pain, and it’s going to take more than twenty-eight days to get to the bottom of that.

And having gotten that bit out of the way, it’s now time for Charna to turn her attention to the more pressing issue of her arch-nemesis, Prety. Dolt tells us that all he knows is if you lose your job, you have to go home. And with that, Charna makes very short business of telling Prety that no one knows if he’s ever going to show up or not, he thinks he’s in charge, he has an attitude that he’s more important than the group and because of all that…he has to leave. “Go home. And that means back to Florida,” she snips. Ooooooh, Charna! You do not mess with this jowly bitch! Loves it!

But it gets even better, cause after she issues her edict, she asks if anyone in the group has anything to say about her decision. The silence is deafening. Well, take five minutes, she tells the rest of group while Prety lags behind to try and talk his way out of this. Unfortunately, he chooses his most uppity and condescending tone to do it. He reviews all three of what he calls their “altercations”, which is absolutely the incorrect word. They flash back to each time he didn’t show up, and Charna very clearly telling him the second time that after three strikes, he’s out.

Then she confronts him about the night before. “Were you in a fashion show?” she asks him point blank. “Well, I wasn’t in it ’cause I didn’t get a chance to,” he stammers. Didn’t get a chance, too beefy, whatever color he wants to paint it, either way Charna calls him out for missing class to go to a party, and now Prety’s starting to get that he’s really in hot water here. So he does the 180, starts telling her how much he cares about improv, which we know is total nonsense, and how sorry he is for not calling her to tell her he wasn’t going to be there. Yeah, I’ll bet you’re sorry now.

And don’t even try to do improv in Forida. I’ve already called the one improv theater in that state. You’re done! Chris Farley was very dependable!

And then it’s time for the gay sidekick to chime in, and he’s short and to the point. “You can’t keep shoveling it out, guy,” he shoots off. Yeah, guy. Loves it to the millionth. But Gay Sidekick isn’t done. “Why do you think no one said anything? You reap what you sow. You pack up and go home,” he tells Prety. That’s right guy, you’re outta here! And Prety handles it like the mature fellow that he is, by nearly throwing his chair across the room as he alights, and then storming out the door.

“There are people who don’t show up, and that’s not good for the team,” Charna explains when the rest of the group comes back in. “Now, anyone feel like doing improv?” Improv saves the day! When Prety gets home, he calls his Mom with a very controlled, “Hello, Mother. Guess what’s happening right now? I’m kicked off the show.” Mom is incredulous.

Then he recounts how when Charna asked if anyone wanted to speak for him, no one did. He’s really pissed about that, which is ironic and hilarious, given his behavior in the house and the way he kept shooting his mouth off about how much he hated his roommates. Prety is a classic case of thinking the rules don’t apply to him. “I thought it was all about family,” he sneers. Funny, that was the same argument Meat had when you were running around the house drunk all night, dear. Blondie says that karma’s a bitch, and she’s right.

Prety’s next call is to Ugly Slutty Liar, who he asks to come pick him up. Oh, she’s in for a big surprise when the cameras don’t follow her. The only one Prety really says goodbye to is Dolt, with a brief hug. Rick James thinks back to the whole experience with Prety, and he doesn’t remember any good times. Blondie says that he thought was better than anyone else, and you can’t survive in this world thinking like that. Well, sure you can, the trick is just to never let everyone else know that’s how you really feel.

Big models don’t cry.

The remaining roomies give Stripper a call in Philly for the update, and she laughs her ass off. No love lost here, really. I don’t even think we saw the half of Prety’s antics. Goody gets on the line with Stripper to inquire about the court case, and Stripper casually informs her that she’s not going to have to go to jail. The way she says jail, she may as well be talking about not having to go to the supermarket. “Well, it’s good that…you’re not in jail,” Goody offers, clearly swallowing the horror of having a conversation with someone to whom jail is the equivalent of the supermarket.

And that night, it’s another improv performance. Meat’s not quite as nervous at this time, and as they take the stage, he tells us that he’s strong and he’s a fighter and he’s gonna go at it full speed ahead. Full speed is so the way to go out of rehab.

And that’s it! Hello Meat, goodbye Prety. I think the house dynamic is going to be very, very different without Prety, but whether or not it will create more drama remains to be seen. Thank heavens the Jacket Move will live on in re-runs. Next week, Meat fights the lame, whiny fight against addiction and there’s talk of cocaine! Drugs and debauchery make for a fabulous Real World. Kisses til next time…

Now let’s make out.