Dance Moms: Boys Are Cuties, Girls Have Cooties. Can Your Heart Handle A Zack Attack? Boys Are In Da House.

 

 

You heard me. Hold on to your hats and your panties, girls. The Z-Man is back.

 

 

 

 

 

OMG. It’s that boy from that show.

 

 

 

 

 

That Dad is totally checking me out, right? He can’t take his eyes off all this.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh. Hell. No.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ManCandy? Mama likes them Apples.

 

 

 

 

 

I know, right? It’s like this hat makes no sense whatsoever.

 

 

 

 

 

Drink up, Pookie. Then we’ll go meet with that nice man from the Pittsburgh Board of Health.

 

 

Where’s all my girls at?

They better be practicing in Studio A, cuz there’s boyz in the hizzle and they ain’t playing.  No, sir.  They don’t play.

They’re here to spin it and win it.

It was Dance Moms doping this week when their arch rival injected Bboy enhancing testosterone into four bite-sized Captain America super soldiers and unleashed a totally girl-free team straight up in the judges’ faces.

Because judges eat that s*** up with a spoon.

But first, The Pyramid of Shame.

Needless to say, after coming in a whopping 4th Place at last week’s competition, the mood during the military lineup was a little gloomy.  Everyone was nervous about how well Abby Lee Miller was going to handle coming in 3 notches below the top spot.

Let’s just say she didn’t handle it well, and keep this thing moving.

This week they were headed to Voorhees, NJ for the On Stage America competition, and 4th Place wasn’t going to cut it this time around.

Bottom floor of the Pyramid was reserved for Mackenzie, Maddie, Paige and Nia.

MackAttack was cut from the group number again.  Poor little noodle, she can’t seem to catch a break lately.  She’s in.  She’s out.  She’s too young.  She’s old enough now.

She’s also related to her Mom Melissa, who is currently on Abby’s Naughty Girl list, so that probably had as much to do with her current low standing as her signature circus flips did.  Maddie also shares the same DNA, and since Abby had grown tired of poking Kelly with a stick, she has apparently moved on to Melissa’s family.

Paige was also on the bottom because apparently Abby wasn’t quite as tired of poking Kelly with a stick as I had originally thought.  My bad.

Nia was on the bottom just because.  It wasn’t really explained very well, but it did give Holly time to make one of her delightful MomFaces.  OhNoSheDin’t.

Second row was all about Kendall and Chloe.  No surprises.  Except for when Jill did a handstand and three somersaults to celebrate her kid finally making it out of the basement.  When she stood back up her hair still looked the same, though.

The top spot reveal was a blank piece of white paper, not Brooke‘s face as many Vegas oddsmakers had predicted.  I’m going to assume that somewhere along the line a production intern must have misplaced Brooke’s headshot, because the poor girl hasn’t been taped up on the mirror for most of this season.  Since none of the Moms ever put down their iPhones, you’d think someone would have the sense to snap a quick photo just so Miss Hyland can play along with the other girls.  But, whatever.

Then I thought that maybe the blank sheet was one of those optical illusion things where if you stare at it long enough you see the face of Jesus or Sophia Lucia.

But nope.

And speaking of, how long does it take to film a movie cameo?  It’s not like she’s out at Sundance fer cryin’ out loud.  Do your thing and get back home before Maddie has a stress induced aneurism.

You two kids need to settle this in the parking lot like good thugs, crown the victor, bury the loser and then we can get back to fixing our sickled feet.

When Abby claimed that nobody deserved the top of the Pyramid, Kelly’s mouth got (bleeped) out AND blurred out.  They don’t even do that on Mob Wives, so she must have had some serious potty mouth.

Kendall, Nia and Chloe all got solos.  Maddie got another nervous tick and then they all got sparkly hats for the group number.  The routine was yet another Bob Fosse-ish jazz handy fedora kind of dance with a Survivor-like twist.

You drop your hat…you’re kicked off the island.

As the girls began rehearsing, Melissa’s guilt and regret for supporting the other Moms during their sit-in a few weeks ago began percolating again.  Having your friends’ backs is one thing, but at the cost of losing your place in line behind Abby’s butt?  Maybe not.

Transitioning from kissing butt to kicking butt…we were then whisked off to Ohio and the Evil Dance Lair known as Candy Apple’s Dance Center.

We’ve never really discussed it, but what is the real deal with the apostrophe in that name?  Anyone?  Is the studio owned by some stripper?  Because that’s the only Candy Apple I’ve ever heard of besides the kind you eat.

(Yes…I have a couple of jokes in my head right now, but we’ll move right along before I get blurred out like Mama Hyland’s face.)

Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein had combed the Earth and pulled together a fresh crop of juvenile boy jerky for a newly created All Male Revue.  Judges love boy dancers, and usually give them high scores just so they won’t jump ship and go play football.  That’s just a fact.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m all for boy dancers (…that didn’t come out quite the way I intended it to sound…) but it’s a fact of life.  And Cathy knew it, so she was ready to shove some new sticks into them candy apples, if you know what I mean.

There was Bryant, who kind of looked like he thought he was going to be on MTV’s Dance Crew when he showed up that morning but was koolio with it and stuck around anyway, and Gino who was all braces and boogie feet.

The third Bboy was legit Bboy dancer Jalen, who at 2 feet tall has a bigger social media presence than Ryan Seacrest.  No lie.  Check it out.  Jealz much?

He’d probably be a lot taller if he didn’t spend all day spinning on his head, but he is seriously playground gangstah and killed it on stage.

And then there was Zackery.  Commence swooning, girls.

He’s the same Zack who devastated the entire female species when he was eliminated way too early on that Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition show.  Remember that?  All the crying and screaming and collapsing on the floor when Robin Antin pimped out the Pussycat Dolls and then sent the kid packing?

He’s back, bitches.

I’m going to assume that the producers either knew a good thing when they saw all those unconscious little girls in the lobby of that Los Angeles hotel this summer, or that Cathy chloroformed Zack and tossed him into the back of a waiting van after he and Mom Gina flipped off his marquee light.  But either way, he was back.  And Trapper Keepers everywhere just got a new I Heart Zack glitter doodle during homeroom period.

Choreographer Nick Anthony (…a lot of porn names this week, huh?…) made the horse & buggy trip to Ohio to teach the boys some dope hip hop beats, and while they all got jiggy wid it, Cathy licked her chops like she was at a Costco international food sampling weekend.  It’s well documented that Mama likes her boys.

Back in PA, the female group routine was not going quite as smoothly.

Maddie was gradually coming unraveled and nobody could seem to figure out how to keep a hat on their head for longer than two 8 counts.  Even holding the chapeaus wasn’t working very well.  I see why Abby doesn’t let the girls juggle chainsaws on stage.

And then Abby’s little sissy dog drank out of the public water fountain.

With the same mouth that he licks his own butt with.  I wasn’t sure if that was an everyday occurrence, or if Abby was just playing a mean joke on Jill the next time she gets thirsty.  But since Jill’s mouth was pretty much all over Abby’s butt by now, it probably was less of an issue for her than I’m making it out to be.

Buying Chanel gift sets and lobby benches didn’t really get her anywhere last season, so Jill had moved on to straight up slave labor in an attempt at getting on Abby’s good side.

Including squatting alongside a little puppy while it does a tinkle on national television.

Watch Mama show you how it’s done.  Good boy.  Now let’s go have some water.

That would have been awarded the episode’s Oddest Moment Award for certain if Jill hadn’t next shown up in her confessional camera shot wearing a hat.

I can’t.

Moving on.  Solo rehearsals were going ok.  Not great.  Just ok.

And the group routine wasn’t going much better.  There were hats flying everywhere like some unintentional tribute to the opening of the Mary Tyler Moore Show.

Sing it:  You’re gonna make it to 4th Place after all, girl.  Hat toss.  And scene.

During their final dress rehearsal, Kendall’s costume hadn’t been delivered yet and it turned into big drama.  Instead of picking something out of Abby’s fire trap of a costume shop, Jill had commissioned a designer to create a masterpiece like they do on Toddlers & Tiaras.  And it was late.

Abby flipped.  Kendall cried.  Jill double flipped.

Chloe just stood back in her dirty Raggedy Ann outfit and watched, looking like a toy shoppe version of that sad kid in Les Misérables. 

Jill had yet another full-on cowboy hat meltdown and called it destruction of the children while proudly proclaiming that she was a grown a** woman like they do on VH1.

Yeah, Bitch popped off.

Then some more screaming and then she yanked her daughter out the door, thinking that the other Moms would follow her as backup like they all did during the min van sit-in.

Umm.  Not so much.

Once you’ve been burned, you tend not to touch the stove again.  So Jill was on her own for this one.  Thanks for nothing, ladies.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Everyone made their Rock Star entrances down the hallways, surrounded by screaming Justin Bieber fans all clutching cell phones and souvenir ALDC bumper stickers.

Craziness.

One of the benefits of Dance Boys is that they occasionally come with matching Dance Dads, and Cathy found herself a keeper with this dude.

Loved this guy.  Not only did he support his boy 400%  but I think he also thought he was at a Knicks game, because Dad spent the entire episode pointing and fist pumping and high fiving everyone around him.  If you don’t blink you can catch him chest bumping Zack’s Mom.

My boy’s a dancer.  Booyeah!

Sniffly space shot Vivi-Anne even showed up with Cathy, most likely because she forgot that Mom had kicked her off the team during their ice cream social earlier in the season.

But it’s always a hoot to see what she is chewing on each week.  So drop by anytime, sweetie.

The same intern who misplaced Brooke’s 8×10 glossy was also apparently in charge of the On Stage America backdrop, because that was missing as well.  There’s no way that could have been their official backdrop, right?  It looked like someone with a car ran out to Lowe’s for spray paint twenty minutes before the curtain went up and then it was all hands on deck as everyone tagged the back wall like it was a dumpster.

Girl, that was boooooghetto.

As for the dancing, it was what it was.

Solos were ok.  Only Kendall managed to even place.

The boys weren’t exactly a well-oiled break dancing machine, but the audience freakin’ loved it.  Or maybe it was just the spray paint fumes.  But they were all cheering their brains out.  Ten years from now they’re doing Bachelorette parties.

They’re dudes, and Dad went completely Superbowl on the back of Abby’s head.

The all-girl version went well, too, except for when Chloe dropped her hat.  And you know the rules.  Even though they ended up beating the boys by 1/10th of a point.

You know the rules.

Backstage, Abby blew a nutty.  Christi blew a bigger nutty.  Christi’s been losing it all season if you go back and watch the videotape replay.  And this was her best nutty yet.

Then she quit.  Someone has to quit every week.  It’s in their contract.

Replace us!  Go ahead.  Replace us!  Dramatically awkward suitcase slam.  Even more dramatic hallway exit that looked like she and Chloe were pushing their way through CNN reporters after leaving the OJ Simpson courtroom.

Christi was either yelling at the camera guy, or the Bieber Fever kids or her own kid.  It wasn’t really clear, but I’m going to go with the camera guy.

Bad cell reception.  No cab to the airport.

It was pure Dance Moms dramz.

And scene.

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