Recap: Top Chef: MC Monkey Shines - 
by Flipit
I sat in my car and looked myself over in the rearview mirror. Tonight was going to be a different kind of Friday night. No bingeing through Ghost Whisperer for me. I had been on Weight Watchers for three days, and the one pound I'd lost made me feel like a randy teenager. The burst of confidence had scored me a real, live, actual date.
I had on the huge lightly tinted sunglasses that make my gigantic face look smaller and I was freshly shaven, tooth-brushed and moisturized. I popped a Sweet Mint Orbit in my mouth and savored the moment. I was about to be naked in front of someone else and do the f word. It had been a looooong time. Ding-dong. The front door opened half way. Something was very wrong here, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Did I have an eye crap? Did I miss a nose hair and have a tiny Rapunzel trying to make it to the ground? Did that extra 11 points at breakfast (damn, you, two pump mocha!) bring back my pound?
"You forgot the wine." (sad horns)
That was not a happy face. It took me twelve more pounds and ten months to ever get that close to the f word again.
This week Top Chef taught us monkeys can't rhyme, if you got it spend it, and if you wanna get (a)head, don't forget the wine.
Elia lies in bed and reels from last week's Black Betty Sloth Surprise. She wants to be in the finals more than ever. "I am so close to it, I can almost feel how wide!" Mike is so confident after making "history" by winning twice in an episode, he has become a doctor.
Dr. History
Where's Marcel? Sam says he's on top of the building, probably about to kill himself. Now that would be history.
For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow Is Enuf...
His colleagues are asshole-ish as ever, but that just brings out the quiet, sensitive, poetic outcast monkey. Marcel sits on the roof with his Hello Kitty notebook and writes a deaf jam beat poem entitled "These People". It's dedicated to all you haters out there (do you hear me, HATERS?).
"These People" by Marcel Vigneron
Bravo Music Publishing, all rights reserved
Ever since I came to this spot,
You started tryin' to make out to be something I'm not,
It's taken every ounce that I got,
Not to pop you in the face.
(wiggy wiggy wiggy snap pop head roll)
And you have no grounds to base your accusations off of,
Cuz your buildings built on quick sand.
You say my food lacks fundamentals like salt and peppa,
And I'm like yo man, whateva!
I wiped the tears from my cheeks and got up to take an emotional break, but then he came in for the finale.
I don't even get stressed,
Because I know at the end of the day,
My food is fuckin' SOIGNEE!* Sheeeeeeeeeiiit.
If Marcel had been composing music during the "Goodbye, English Rose" era, the Princess Diana Memorial Fund might have raised enough money to cure AIDS forever.
Today's Guest Judge is Mike Yakura, executive Chef of Sutra in San Francisco. He looks like a cute little Kewpie doll my Meemaw gave me as a kid, so I'm feeling conflicted.
Guest Judge Yakura / First sign of severe Flipit homosexuality.
Padma gives her weekly nonsensical monologue. This time it starts with "Vision and Execution" and somehow ends with KRAFT Gourmet Snack Challenge. Padma describes a "snack" as the humblest form of culinary life. Going with the whole "humble form" thing, I cracked open a jar of KRAFT peanut butter and a stick of KRAFT RITZ crackers. The Chefs have their choice of using KRAFT Mayonnaise, KRAFT Italian Salad Dressing, or KRAFT Barbeque Sauce along with anything they can find in their KENMORE Kitchen. No one mentions Mike's poop and Cheeto snack debacle from the Amuse Challenge, but it has to cross their minds as they drink their AQUAFINA. This could be tougher than a GLAD bag. KRAFT.
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