Dance Moms: If You’re Gonna Talk The Smack Talk, You Better Walk The Drag Queen Walk. It’s Time To Werk.

 

 

Seriously? He’s a psychic podiatrist? And now your kid is all better, and that’s really your natural hair color? Pleez.

 

 

 

 

Just like those are your real eyelashes. And your kid’s a big playground bully.

 

 

 

 

Keep it up. Soon as I finish my Starbucks, somebody’s gonna be picking all their extensions up off the floor, sister.

 

 

 

 

 

Bitch, pleez. I used to be the pretty one.

 

 

 

 

 

Lawd. Give me the strength to not go all Jenny Knock Yo’ Block Off on some of these Bingo Ladies right now.

 

 

 

 

This is really my life?

 

 

 

 

 

 

OhMyGod! We’re not the craziest ones anymore! Shotskis!

 

 

 

Hi.  Thanks for coming.

And now…The Pyramid of Shame.

Boom.  Zoom.  Meow.

That’s pretty much how it went down on the latest episode of Dance Moms.

Abby Lee Miller got right to bidnezz before the opening credits even finished rolling this time around, because after coming in 2nd Place last week (…which, as foretold in the ancient Dance Scriptures, is always the First Loser…) she was not in the mood for games.  Or all the smack talk that was just about to be unleashed.

The ALDC had not only been beaten out of the top spot, but they had been beaten out of the top spot by several dance teachers that Abby did not even know.  Strangers.

So it was time to put the pressure on, starting with the required reveal of the latest Seriously…Maddie Again? Pyramid of Shame.

Bottom row was looking pretty familiar.  Mackenzie, Paige and Kendall.

MackNapSack was still on the ground floor because she had not danced in last week’s competition, thanks in part to whatever it was that was going on with her foot that day.

Nobody really seemed to know what the dealio was with her doinked up foot anymore except that she was originally told by some mysterious unnamed doctor to not dance for two weeks.  Unless she was somehow immaculately, miraculously cured of all ailments earlier than expected, of course.

Then it would be ok to dance.  Hold that thought.

Paige was back on the bottom because she held the American flag upside down at the end of the patriotic group dance and apparently almost ignited an enemy invasion of our shores, even though the jury is still out on whether or not it was really Asia‘s fault for getting the thing all goobed up on Paige’s head during the hand-off.  That one will probably end up in some dead file with all the other unsolved dance mysteries, because nobody could agree on a verdict.

And, of course, Brooke was hanging low again because she’s Brooke. Not to mention the whole Mom Kelly thing and the fact that Brooke seems to be phoning in her participation lately.  Which is probably pretty easy to do, considering that she never looks up from that hot pink Barbie iPhone when she’s off the dancefloor.

OMG.  Boys.  LOL.  Boys.  TTFN.  Send.

Second tier was all about Chloe, Nia and the aforementioned Asia.  They all did a great job at the last competition and got rave reviews, but 2nd row is basically just an FAA holding pattern to allow AirMaddie to zoom past, land and then taxi up to the best spot on the tarmac.

And she did.  Maddie was at the top of the Pyramid again. Yadda yadda yadda.

This week, providing the gang could get their shizzle together and focus, they would all be heading to Youngstown, OH for the Energy Dance Competition.  That’s the competition with that gigantic projected backdrop featuring the silhouette of a dancer that looks like some five year old took his Crayola and traced over a map of Italy.

Seriously.  What is that?

As Abby was about to hand out solos and such, she noticed that MackSlap wasn’t wearing her air cast.  And wasn’t she supposed to be chillin’ like a villain off that thing for a full two weeks?

Sounding like she got caught sucking on a giant Gobstopper jawbreaker, tiny MackSplat said that she felt better and that yes…no…maybe…she had been to the doctor again and he might have said it was probably definitely could be ok to do stuff.

Really.  She gave all those answers at once.  Like Jodie Arias, but without the fake glasses and the headstand.  Don’t get me started on that one.

Melissa came to her defense.  Kinda.  Sorta.

Yes, they had seen the doctor.  But no, they hadn’t.  And he said it was ok if she felt better, because a 7 year old always knows more about juvenile podiatry than someone who went to med school.  The doctor had even somehow managed to x-ray MackSmack’s gimp foot simply by having Melissa press the phone receiver up against her leg and count to 30.  You have to admire the advances in modern medicine.

I don’t know.  It was so jumbled I just went and got a snack.  If you DVRed the episode and plan on watching it later, right now is when you can go to the refrigerator and not miss anything.

Maddie and Chloe scored solos.  Nia and Asia, Fierce 1 & Fierce 2, were matched up in a duet.  Both of them.  Together.

Can I get a Halleloooo from the congregation?

The group number was entitled Hear No Evil (…as in: ‘Don’t listen to any of your Moms’ crap’…) but Maddie wouldn’t be participating.  She would be assisting with the choreography.  Which was somehow different than being an Assistant Choreographer.

Don’t ask.

The assignment immediately opened up a whole can of whoop a** MomWorms in the MomPerch.  Let the games begin.

If Abby really felt that the rest of the girls were dragging Maddie down, then why doesn’t she just move the Golden Child on up to the Senior Group and be done with it?  And if Maddie is really the team leader, why pull her out of a number and set the rest of the dancers up for guaranteed failure?  And what’s the freakin’ difference between assisting and being an Assistant, anyway? And why is Asia having so much trouble keeping up with the tall kids?

And most importantly, why are some of Kristie with a K‘s earring so small this week?

Unacceptable.

Then it was time for this week’s classic Leave It To Christi Moment:

Yo.  Melissa.  Sup?  How’d your kid’s foot get better so fast?  It’s like freakin’ magic or something.  Thought she was busted up, yo.

Oh, snap.

She rested it.  You made it up.  She feels better.  You lie.  No I didn’t.  She’s just scared of competing with the big kids.  No, she’s not.  Yes, she is.  You lie.  Oh, yeah?  Well, I hate your hair that way.

Luckily, Abby received a call from one of Barbara Walters‘ bitches down at ABC before all the Moms could pig pile on top of Melissa for (…allegedly…) lying about her age, her taxes and her kid’s toe.

Abby, decked out in some seriously bedazzled red crystal jewelry, including what was either one of those Joan Rivers QVC Christmas Cardinal bird bracelets or a pair of Mob Wives lips cast straight from Big Ang‘s face, had been invited to cohost The View!

In New York City!

I know, right?  Where’s Star Jones when you need her?  Can you imagine that throw down?  Babs also wanted Abby to bring along the girls and present one of their award winning routines for everyone at home to see.

Somebody must have then realized that nobody had done much actual rehearsing, because all of the sudden everyone got back to their routines.

Can I just take a second to mention how much I used to love that sloppy, graffiti bench that Abby always sits on during rehearsals?  It’s total sixth grade drama club prop, and always looks like the paint is still wet.

This week I finally figured out that up on the left side somewhere it says “Text Me” with what must be an actual phone number, because sometimes the producers blur it like they do a crackhead’s eyes during a trailer park bust on COPS.

For three seasons I thought it said “Eat Me” and that they were pixelating out something really good.  But no such luck.  False alarm…turn the trucks around.  It’s just a phone number.  Not so fascinated anymore.

Anyway.

Abby decided that for The View, they would present “The Last Text.”  That’s the dance where Paige drives a car into a telephone pole because she’s not paying attention to the road, and little MackYak backflips through the window and bleeds out on the stage because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt while screwing off on a cell phone.

Except that this time it looked like it might be Asia who would be catapulting out the passenger side, because Mack was supposed to stay off that foot, despite her suddenly excellerated mutant healing factor.  Needless to say, the chance to dance in NYC opened up the MomWorms again and Melissa got (bleeped) out a few times.

No.  I don’t believe you.  And I will call the F***ing doctor myself.  Bitch.

Somewhere amidst all the accusations, Brooke met with a voice coach to talk about her singing career and get some pointers before they all went to NYC.  Well, actually Mom and the voice coach did all the talking.  Brooke just phutzed with her iPhone (…one of my biggest pet peeves EVER…) and didn’t even look at up the coach.  Maybe she was just rehearsing the group dance in her head.  Who knows with that kid.

And the coach’s name was Hilerie.  For realz.  Spelled like she was some kind of Toddlers & Tiaras wannabe, or something.

With one day to go before the competition, it was getting a little stressful up in the MomPerch.  And stress always makes for good TV.

According to outside sources, Maddie had allegedly let all that new assistant power go right to her head and taken both her newfound authority and her favorite Unicorn Trapper Keeper right up to Asia and told her that she would not be performing on The View next week.  At least that was the word on the street.

Melissa said it never happened, but now that you mention it…Asia is being a totally sissy pants bully to Mackenzie and got caught dropping a construction block from the roof of the ALDC right on to little Mack’s bumb leg.

And then JLo’s eyes got really, really crazy wide like they do right before her earrings start flapping.  Love.  Her.

JLo accused Melissa of being passive/aggressive.  Melissa got all passive/aggressive and denied it.  JLo called the whole sore toe thing a big charade.  Fingers and eyeballs and earrings were flying everywhere.

In other developments, Christi seemed pretty normal this week and Kelly finally realized that you could fill a water bottle with vodka and nobody would even know the difference.

The only thing that could possibly top all the smack talk this week was Abby’s already infamous Drag Queen Walk.

In an attempt to inspire Nia and Asia to Fierce Greatness, Abby showed the two little niblets how to drag walk in their routine.  No, really.  She did.  Like a Boss.

Picture Bette Midler and The Penguin from the second Batman movie having an illegitimate son who eventually grows up to perform with a Las Vegas touring company that only does cruise ships.  Over accessorized with duct tape on his nibblies, of course.

It was like that.  And it pretty much gave me life.

Finally, it was Showtime!

Chloe and Maddie both aced their solos.  Maddie looked like one of those plastic ballerina cake toppers you buy at iParty and Chloe’s legs actually grew another inch during the performance.  Slo-Mo the tape and I swear you’ll see it right before your very eyes, like a garden bean.

If you read the program, there were supposed to be approximately 14 numbers performed before the duet hit the stage, so naturally Nia and Asia were called up right after the solos.  Unstretched, unrehearsed and barely duct taped.

But they werked it out like two Real Housewives of Atlanta hairdressers in Reynolds Wrap Lost In Space uniforms, Miss Thang, and made Shangela proud.

Maddie gave a quick Super Bowl motivational speech to the team and then sent everyone out onto the field for the group dance, which they nailed.

As a result, the ALDC pretty much owned the awards ceremony.

Special shout out to the dude tossing tee shirts and who-knows-what into the audience like he worked at Fenway Park.  I’ll take a size medium shirt and a size large ball park frank over here, please.

After the competition, there was just enough time to run through next week’s NYC routine so Abby could finally decide which little kid would get to throw herself out the window and into the national spotlight.

And the winner is:

Psych.  You wish.

You’ll find out when Barbara Walters finds out.

To be continued…

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One Response to “Dance Moms: If You’re Gonna Talk The Smack Talk, You Better Walk The Drag Queen Walk. It’s Time To Werk.”

  1. Sandy Says:

    The Midler-Penguin child…YESSSS! (DtC uramazin’)

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