DanThat'sCool!

 

 

This is the deal. Next time we either get the couches back, or Mama’s bringing her padded Steelers bleacher cushion.

 

 

 

 

Seriously. If this blonde chick says ‘Motor Boat’ one more time…it’s on.

 

 

 

 

 

I was promised that Paige’s number would be cut and replaced with my Gangnam Style.

 

 

 

 

 

 I hate my life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s see who’s crying after I slap a bitch. Let’s go!

 

 

 

 

 

So, should I wake her up or just keep going until the next commercial break?

 

 

 

 

 

Oh. Hell. No. I didn’t bust out a new hair bow just to find out there’s no ice cream.

 

 

 

Second verse…same as the first.

Except maybe crazier.

It was Round Two for the Dance Moms Reunion this week, packed with even more of what we’ve come to love.

More competition, more yelling, more accusations…and more Moms.

The Original Recipe Moms.  The Hot New Mom.  The Former Mom.

Even one unsuspecting senior citizen Mom from Ohio in a complete fog, minding her own business in the audience, who somehow got caught in Abby Lee Miller‘s crossfire.

It was literally a Momapalooza.

Taking a nod from the Real Housewives franchise, my boy Jeff Collins had everyone stick around for a second week of talking smack in their fancy clothes, which pretty much always guarantees high drama as the day wears on and the stiletto feet start to hurt.

You know they always save the good stuff for the last show.

So everyone was back for more, just like on Bravo TV.  Except that when the cameras go back to Andy Cohen in some glittery Las Vegas hotel for Round Two, all the Housewives are still sitting there on the couches, uncomfortably glaring at each other or licking their front teeth like pageant girls.

For some reason on Dance Moms though, they felt the need to scoot everyone backstage and reintroduce them to the same audience again.  Like we’d never seen them before.  Granted, the whole process probably only took 45 seconds total, but that’s 45 seconds that someone could have been throwing shade.

Time is money, people.  And I bought snacks specifically for this evening.

Abby was first out on stage, just like last week, accompanied by a quick montage of some of this season’s New Mama Drama starring Kristie with a K and Jackie Lucia.

Oh, Kristie.  I may have mentioned once or twice over the last few weeks how much I love me some Kristie.

Seriously.  Love.

Every time the cashier at my grocery store holds up the line by checking her text messages under the counter I always wonder how Mama JLo would handle the situation.  Then my eyes get real big, I reach over the credit card scanner, hand her my coupons and slap the bitch into yesterday.

Let’s go!  Get off your phone.  Ring up my bag of Ruffles BBQ.  And then let’s go.

Jeff asked Abby to compare the New Moms to the Original Recipe Moms, and we got an ear full.  New Moms: Respectful.  Old Moms: Not so much.

Keeping with the same theme, he moved on to Sophia vs. Maddie and Asia vs. Mackenzie.

If you watch the show, you didn’t really need Abby to break down the differences between all the kids.  You could probably figure that one out by yourself.

One point Abby did make was that tiny SassyPants Asia probably didn’t know who Bob Fosse was, which apparently must come up in playground discussions a lot more than it did when I was in second grade.

If you’re 7 years old and can do the whole Single Ladies dance better than Beyoncé, who really cares who Bob Fosse is?  That’s what Google is for, mmmkay?

Then some random Soccer Mom in the audience inappropriately asked Abby if the Original Recipe Moms were jealous of Kristie’s awesome sauce hotness and the whole thing kind of collapsed into a discussion about skinny waistlines and boobs that could make a grown man cry.

Which was Kristie’s cue to come out on stage.

By the way, from now on I have decided to enter every room the same way Kristie does.

Like a hot a** Diva Bitch.

Arms opened wide.  Hugs.  Air kisses.  I have arrived.

I’ll pass on the Chair Guy bumbling behind me again, as well as the full length white gown.  Don’t get me wrong.  Looked faboo on her.  I just don’t have the height.

And now that you mention it, she did kind of look like Cher doing an opening number from the old Sonny & Cher Show, with that whole long hair and gown thing going on.

But she also kind of looked like a runaway bride from some Telemundo telenovela.  So I wasn’t really sure if she was going to sing Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves or throw a champagne glass against the wall and slap a housekeeper.

Love.  Her.

And then it was all about the crying scandal that rocked the ALDC:  Asiagate.

Again.

Did she cry?  When did she cry?  Did Mom try to hide her in the bathroom?  Why is a 7 year old acting like such a…I don’t know…a 7 year old?

Get Jill out here.  And Christi.  And a video montage of Kendall crying.  And then make Kendall do a solo dance in front of everyone right after the video.

Yeah…that happened.

After a few audience members blacked out from epileptic seizures (…seriously…did you see those strobe lights during Kendall’s solo?  A little warning would have been nice…) it was nothing but tears.

Side note.  During Kendall’s solo I finally figured out what that odd Mardi Gras studio reminds me of with all its beads and Senior Play lighting.

Star Trek.  Or Lost in Space.  Or any of those old, low budget sci-fi shows before there were CGI effects.  I swear Kendall was dancing in the same room where Captain Kirk kissed a Vulcan princess while he was trippin’ on space juice.

Tell me I’m not wrong.

After the solo, it was probably a good 90 minutes of arguing about whether or not Asia was born with working tear ducts, why Kendall cried every week regardless of whether she was yelled at or not, why Jill cared so much about Asia’s emotional state, why we were all still having this discussion in the first place and why they’re not all saving those tears for their pillows anyway, like it says in the damn contract.

Abby interjected something about how only kids with no food should be allowed to cry and then Jill said Asia was a Hot Mess in every group number.

Secretly, even though I totally heart Jill, I wanted JLo to pound a Bump-It back into her skull just for good TV.  But violence isn’t the answer, kids.

Or at least not when you’re wearing couture.

Before it went completely Christi on Kristie, we were treated to a video montage of squeaky little Sophia’s short Dance Moms tenure.  And then her solo, entitled SuperStar.

Which they had to spell out in the lyrics, since apparently the show should also be a learning experience given the fact that kids are at home watching TV instead of doing their homework on a Tuesday night.

Honestly, I didn’t realize how many times the songs spell out their own titles until later in the show when Mackadoodle performed her own dance and they had to sound out the word ‘Lemonade’ for me.

Go back and check your DVR this season.  It’s true.  The More You Know.

Melissa and Jackie Lucia joined the crowd after sending JLo back to the Green Room (…Boo…!) where they gave Jeff a lesson in the difference between Spins and Turns.

Yes.  It’s true that Sophia can reverse the clock and go back in time like Superman did just by spinning herself into thin air.  Which is a pretty big deal if you ask me.  But Mom didn’t want her to be remembered as simply the dancing Tasmanian Devil.  And she certainly didn’t want Sophia remembered for being part of the Fight Club known as the ALDC.  They are both way too soft spoken for any of that dramz.

So as you’ll recall, Jackie had pulled Sophia out of Pittsburgh before they had even finished unpacking, and that had resulted in some long term tension between the Moms.

Given that Jackie didn’t want to be around all the negativity, and that realistically it would have been almost impossible to take either of them seriously during an argument when they both sound like characters from a Disney holiday cartoon, it was best for everyone that they just move on and check Pittsburgh off their Bucket List.

Thanks for playing.  Love your hair.

One more side note.  Abby shouldn’t sit on those high chairs with one foot on her stool and one foot on Melissa’s.  She just shouldn’t.  Unless she’s giving a motivational speech to a football team going into the last quarter of the Super Bowl, of course.

Otherwise, just don’t do that again, please.

Eventually, Abby headed out back and Kelly and Holly joined the girls on stage .  The Old and the New.  And the Uncomfortable.

Holly felt that it was insulting for Jackie to diss the ALDC.  Jackie asked why they even stay at the studio if it’s nothing but throw downs and breakdowns.  Christi wanted to know where Jackie and JLo were three years ago and Kelly wanted to go on record as saying she did NOT show the Lucias the front door.

Jill phutzed with her 47 bracelets a lot.  Ssssh.  Stop that.

Finally, the newbies were sent to the Green Room to babysit Vivi-Anne as all the originals filled the stage.

Even Chaos Cathy Nesbitt-Stein.

Let the games begin, please.

When questioned, Cathy stated that she would maybe, possibly, potentially, might consider taking Chloe on as a student at the Candy Apples Dance Center.

Maybe.  Not an offer.  Just saying.

She would also only choose Holly or Melissa to watch her kid during a national emergency, since the rest of them are all unreliable loose cannons.  Which I guess implied that JLo and Jackie were out back poking Vivi-Anne with a stick or something.

Another Soccer Mom asked Cathy which Downton Abbey characters remind her of herself and Abby, since apparently Cathy must tweet about the show.

I’ve never actually seen the program, so I have to assume it must conflict with some Reality trash on my viewing schedule.  But Cathy compared Abby to some car on the show, and since the only two TV cars I know are the talking one from Knight Rider and Herbie the Love Bug (…back before Lindsay Lohan got all coked up…) I had no idea what was going on.

Luckily Abby came to my rescue by changing the subject and calling Cathy’s Mom her “Poor Pathetic Mother.”

Oh, snap.  Did you just diss my Mom?

Shut up.  And Mom was right there in the audience.  Girlfriend perked up like they had just called her number at Bingo.

They even gave Vivi-Anne’s Grandma some Honey Boo Boo subtitles as she called Abby a disgrace and pointed in the air like she was picking out deli meat.

Best part?  The little girl next to her was all like totally OMG I love this show.  Her little friends are gonna be totz jealz tomorrow.  Totz.

And then it was nothing but screaming, yelling and accusations that Abby now suffered from PTSD as a result of being beaten by Cathy’s handbag.

She struck me.  Dramatic pause.

Kelly had time to sneak in a few more zingers regarding Anthony Burrell calling out Paige‘s floppy legs in front of an entire auditorium at the last competition and how hurtful it had been.  Regardless of whether Abby had set up her daughter in front of the crowd, or if Anthony was just being Tony the Tool, the whole scene horrified Paige to the point where she had refused to perform her solo during the Reunion Show.

Abby was quick to point out that you don’t getter better sitting on your butt, and then Kelly got a little twisted.

By the time Abby told Cathy that her pathetic mother was nothing to her, and that Cathy was nothing to her, and that Cathy is something that should be shoved dow the toilet with a plunger, Jeff was pretty much breaking out in some serious lip sweat and nervous pee.

And then he did what I do whenever I’m in a tense situation and can’t figure out what to do next:  I panic.

Hey, everyone!  Let’s dance!

And the Award for Most Awkward Transition of 2013 goes to Mr. Jeff Collins.  Come on up and get your trophy, dude.

With two minutes to go, all the kids ran out and performed the famous Rosa Parks group number in a last ditch attempt at breaking the tension.

And maybe it worked for some viewers.  For me, it just made me wonder why they hadn’t been using elastic chin straps all along.

I know, right?

Hats were flinging off and flying off and falling off at every performance this year, and now that we’re done with the season you decide to invest in rubber bands?

Somebody needs a JLo slap.

And then it was over.

But only for a few weeks.  And then they’re back.

So we’ll see you then for more hilarity.

And Grandma…what do you think of my Dance Moms recaps?

 

 

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.

 

 

 

OMG. That tiara. I am like so totally jealz.

 

 

 

 

 

A Princess? As if. Good luck finding a Pumpkin Coach big enough for that one.

 

 

 

 

This is how all the Divas do Recycling Day. What’s it gonna be, bitches? Paper or Plastic?

 

 

 

 

 

Umm. Yeah. Newsflash. She gets it from her Momma. Any questions?

 

 

 

 

Seriously. I would pay good money just to see a house miss the Witch and fall on that Mother.

 

 

 

 

 

From this side of the Magic Mirror all I see is a bucket load of bat s*** crazy.

 

 

 

Toto, I don’t think we’re in Pittsburgh anymore.

You can click your tap shoes together as many times as you want, Honey, but until the Great and Powerful Abby Lee Milller says so…you ain’t going nowhere.

It was Fairy Tale Week on Abby’s Ultimate Dance Competition, and through the magic of Dance and BeDazzling all our favorite Storybook Classic came to life, complete with pixie dust, poison apples and Pussycat Doll promos.

Abby had already cut the herd in half by the time everyone scooted into the rehearsal hall for this week’s Group Challenge.  Being down to the Final 6 meant that not only were both the competition and the Moms getting more exhaustingly intense, but that it was also time to start milking each scene the way they do on a 5 hour Dancing With The Stars finale.

And you know exactly what I mean.  Filling an hour with 6 kids is a lot more difficult than just letting 12 of them run around in circles until the clock runs out.

It was time for everyone behind the scenes to get a little more creative, which would explain why we got more pre-game makeup tutorials and a dramatic pause at the end of nearly every sentence, complete with freeze framed faces that made every conversation feel like a Telemundo Friday cliffhanger.

But regardless of the number of kids left over, nothing can happen until the all important Group Challenge, so in came Abby and her lap dog Kevin Manno.

By now you know how I live for his weekly fashion show.  Bitch stole my look.

This week Kevin had apparently just bolted over from auditioning for an open spot on whatever that all male Varsity singing group is called from that school where Kurt’s boyfriend came from on Glee, because Dude was styling in a two toned cardigan and fake blue Burberry tie, another pair of his trademark Eurotrash skinny pants and one more slightly altered attempt at bootlegging Ryan Seacrest‘s hair.  Love this guy.

Not to be outdone, and to make certain that everyone remembered whose name was actually on the marquee, Abby strolled in wearing what I believe was one of Maddie‘s dance crowns that she lifted out of a display case before leaving Pittsburgh, accessorized with a fairy wand and another ninja star ring.

Bibbity Bobbity BooYeah, Bitches.

To set the tone for the Storybook theme, Abby channeled her Inner Fairy Godmother and somehow magically made choreographer Anthony Burrell appear at her side to lead the challenge, and he popped in all gangstah hand jive and ready to get da party started.

This week’s skill was Individuality.  Yo’ own spin on the thang, according to Anthony.  So that meant that he would set the girls up with some core moves and then they had to make the magic happen on their own.  The winner would not only be the lead in the group number, but also get to duet with the bitter second place dancer.

I’m not really certain the girls were into it, but 45 minutes later my man Kevin certainly was as he did the White Boy Head Bop to the rhythm of the boogie woogie beat during the showdown.

After multiple fairy wand boinks and a number of convoluted Disney references from Godmother Abby, Madison and her Catwoman eyeliner won first prize.

Since the corners of Madison’s emotionless mouth have so far proven to be incapable of curving upwards, it’s nice that she could compensate for no smile muscles with all that Selina Kyle warpaint.  Yeah.  I went there.

Meow.

Amanda came in second, so she would officially be the Evil Queen going up against Madison’s Snow White in the duet.

Heigh Ho, Sickle Toe.  It’s off to rehearsal we go.

The group number was a woodland themed fairy nymph-looking thing with enough artificial leaves scattered around the floor to keep the entire Lifetime legal department on retainer just waiting for someone to break a leg or crack their skull open.

Tiny sassafrassy Asia was the Baby Fairy stalking Madison through the slippery autumnal confetti as everyone else tossed leaves in the air like they had just taken Ecstasy at Studio 54.

Unfortunately, little blonde Jordyn was not picking up on her choreography notes fast enough, which caused her to repeat some visually offensive moves over and over.

And over.

It also caused Mom Kelly to come completely unhinged and unleash enough direct-to-video evidence to get her child scooped right up by Child Services after the curtain call.

Mom blew a nutty.

“You be quiet.  This is where I talk.  You don’t talk.  You listen.  I’m talking.”

Kelly had her CrazyFace on.  And her fingers and fists and hair were going everywhere.

Honestly, stick a few of those orange cone lights in her hands and Mom could have brought in aircraft at JFK without any assistance from the Tower.

Point your damn foot or we’ll settle this on the Maury Povich Show.

In.  Sane.

The duet rehearsal was pretty tame in comparison.  The exciting part is that it was choreographed by Bond Girl Kitty McNamee.  I just like saying that name.

And then it was Fierce 1 and Fierce 2 as Asia met up with Ricky Palomino to werk it as the Wicked Witch.

After Asia made me feel even older than I am by casually mentioning she was pretty certain that she had heard of The Wizard of Oz and may have even watched the movie once or twice in the whopping 6 years that she has been alive (…just…shoot…me…) it was time to practice being so hot you melt.

To conceptualize the iconic water in yo’ face scene, Ricky had somehow confiscated enough black plastic tarp to cover Wrigley Field when it rains and proceeded to wrap Asia up inside it like…well…like a little girl wearing enough black vinyl to cover a baseball field, I guess.

It was actually a very cool visual.  Granted, it looked a little bit like the commercial with that baby duckling stuck in a BP Oil rig explosion…but smear some sparkly green Pop Rocks lipstick on Asia and that little bitch can make anything work.

Baby got Face.  And a Flying Monkey.

Hadley‘s Tinkerbell solo on the other hand, could have used some magic.

After two weeks in the bottom, Hadley’s self confidence was shot and Mom was not helping.  She tried to help.  But she wasn’t helping.

Even Yvette‘s weekly fortune cookie words of wisdom had no effect on Hadley, who eventually broke down into those hiccup cries you get when Justin Bieber launches a new perfume at Macy’s and he passes you behind the ropes.

That kind.

Jordyn’s solo rehearsal seemed to go better than her group rehearsal, or maybe that was just because Mom took a sedative.  Regardless, Jordyn smiled and vowed to show the world that she was just not a Hip Hop Barbie phenom.

Last girl, barely standing, was Brianna.

Turns out that over the last two months, everyone’s favorite outcast has been suffering with a sore knee.  So by the time she was swaddled in ten pounds of Red Riding Hood cloak and doing drop, duck and rolls around the forest, she was hurting.  But Brianna’s will to live, and the Survivor background music, made it clear that the show must go on.

And speaking of.  Finally, it was Showtime!

Richy Jackson was finger waving right out of the gate again, this time all Varsity jacket and crop circle hair.  I swear his barber must squish his head through a giant Play-Doh Fun Factory cookie cutter stencil to get that so tight and right.  There must be something in the water on Lady Gaga‘s tour bus.

Robin Antin kept with the overall theme of the evening by spraying on an extra coat of magic boob dust and wearing the same costume that I think the girl in Tangled wore when she fell out of the castle.  Only she may have hooched it up a bit more, because I think that movie was only rated G now that you mention it.

Kevin busted out another skinny ensemble and some bigger Seacrest hair.

Yeah.  It was on.

The group number went off without any long term brain injuries or broken ankles even though leaves were flying everywhere.  They also had all the little wood nymphs draped in miles of fabric (…2 for 1 deal when Ricky picked up his tarp, maybe?…) which reminded me of those Year of the Rat parades when all the little Chinese kids are hiding inside those giant paper mâché dragons.  Those kids in the parade are so cute I can’t stand it.

Jordyn’s dance went really well, considering all the drama leading up to her performance.  I’m still not sure what to think each week when her Mom goes bazoinks before every show and then acts surprised when her kid actually succeeds in the end.  I should have known during that first episode when Kelly was pinging all over the inside of a cab in anticipation of meeting Abby that she was going to be a handful.

Tinkerbell did okay when it was her turn.  Not bad.  Not great.  My psychic powers told me that if Hadley and Yvette left now they could beat traffic, if you know what I mean.

Asia’s ginormous trash bag dance was a little more Witch Strip than I had originally anticipated as she pulled off her black gloves and used her bite sized Beyoncé booty to force Dorothy, and all the boys in the yard, to surrender.

Naturally, Robin somehow managed to take credit for all of Asia’s genetic Divatude and proudly proclaimed that she probably learned it all from the Pussycat Dolls.

Seriously.  Is she legally bound to pimp them hoes in every episode?  Is it in her contract or something?

As we have discussed multiple times…I love me some PCD.  And you can feel free to loosen up my buttons, baby.  Beep.  Beep.

But unless Robin has some late breaking news on a Pussycat Polio Vaccine…can we give it a rest for one week?

Brianna took her Hood to the ‘hood and made it through the dance with out getting eaten by a Wolf or popping a knee cap.  That was a win/win which made Abby howl like she was either gettin’ some or standing in front of Taco Bell at midnight.  I’m not really sure what was going on with that one.

The duet finished off the evening in classic Storybook Good vs. Evil.

Amanda looked through her evil Magic Mirror like she was all Oh Hell No I See You Talkin’ To My Man and Madison almost cracked a smile.

In true Dance Moms fashion, the Evil Queen even grabbed the good girl by the throat and for a second I thought I was back at the Candy Apples Dance Center.

Nobody jerks it like Mike.

And then Hadley got cut.  Hadley cried.  Yvette cried.

And Kristie did a Victory lap around the auditorium in her JLo stilettos.

Happy Never After?

And then there were 5.