DanThat'sCool!

 

 

Bad Girls, Bad Girls. Whatcha gonna do? Whatcha gonna do when Britney Spears comes for you?

 

 

 

 

And the award for “Best Whacky Gay Sidekick With No Name Helping Carry In A Butt Kissing Bench” goes to…

 

 

 

 

It’s The Dance Moms Drinking Game! Take a shot every time someone yells. Or swears. Or cries. Bonus shot ski  if they yell and swear and cry all at once.

 

 

 

 

I’m taking the first kid I grab and hitting the road. This hair is way too big for a studio this small. Peace out, bitches.

 

 

 

 

All the Single Ladies. If you like it then you better put some Pork on it.

 

 

 

 

O. M. G.

D. M. O.

S. O. S.

It was Dance Moms Overload this week…somebody help me.  You might need a snack to get through this one.

Abby Lee Miller is back.

That’s right.  Before we even had time to rinse the Toddlers & Tiaras taste out of our mouths, all the Crazy Dancing and Dancing Crazies just came screaming back onto our plasmas, bringing with them two distinct options.

Rejoice.  Or Run.

Remembering everything that had gone down so far this season, your first choice should probably have been to run, but I know how comfortable that couch is after a long day.

Short Term Memory issues?  No worries.

The opening act was a full hour of Abby’s Most OMG Moments.  Comfortably perched in that Liberace Glitter Closet where she can oversee All Things Dance, Abby flashed back through the Top 20 jaw dropping, forehead slapping, OhNoTheyDin’t moments so far.

Like the day after Thanksgiving, Abby’s hit list of OMGs gave us all the best parts of the bird reheated and shoved back down our throats one more time, whether we were hungry or not.

You’re gonna eat it.  And you’re gonna like it.

#20.  Put On Your Game Faces, And Maybe Fix Your Hair In A Room With A Mirror.  

Making their entrance into one of the many competitions this season, Abby and her little dancers were about to come face to face with crazy villainess Chaos Cathy Nesbitt and the Candy Apples Contingent.

After letting her team sprawl all around the lobby doing the most technically unsafe, neck bending sit-ups ever seen in the world of fitness, Cathy huddled in the corner with all her Apples like meerkats do when they’re about to get eaten by a hawk.  As Abby approached with her dancers, in that windblown flash mob way they always enter a room, Cathy whispered Don’tLookAtThemDon’tLookAtThem over and over like some kind of religious cult mantra.

Both troupes repeatedly hummed GameFacesGameFaces until Abby broke the tension and waved a quick “Hollah” at the Apples.  That was nice, right?

The single pink roller still stuck in her hair was also nice touch.  And it didn’t go unnoticed by Cathy or my favorite bad a** red haired Mom, as they both laughed like they had just backed over the neighbors’ annoyingly bratty kid with their SUV.

You know that red haired Mom totally tweeted about the curler as soon as Abby pulled it out of her ‘do.  With a big LOL at the end.

#19.  Oops…Peyton Did It Again.  Hot For Teacher.

It was the Naughty School Girl Number, and Abby had slutted  the girls up like mini-Britney Spears video vixens.  Trying to channel Catholic school girls gone bad, Abby knotted up their white shirts and tore their fishnets to artfully imply that 7 foot tall bully Peyton had roughed them up on the playground.

Peyton’s Mom Leslie, who is clearly Pennsylvania’s authority on bullying, took some offense to the outfits and the fact that her Amazon kid was the one chosen to be the bad seed.

That sound you just heard was the apple not falling far from the tree.

#18.  The Gift(s) That Keep On Giving. 

In her never ending attempts at scoring Kendall top billing on every gymnasium marquee in America, Real Housewife of Pittsburgh Jill has invested a good chunk of change this season on bribery gifts.

Whether it’s one of those mark-down cologne sets they sell at TJMaxx on Black Friday or secret massages in the storage closet, Jill showered Abby with more gifts this season than the rest of us receive on our birthdays and Christmas combined.

The one that took the cake was her front lobby bench, complete with an engraved Things Remembered plaque, emblazoned with “To Abby With Love. Now Go Break Maddie’s Knees And Put My Kid On Stage” or some such gibberish.

The gift itself was over the top, but it was nothing compared to whoever that dude was who helped Jill yank the bench out of the van.

I’m not too proud to say I’m officially obsessed with finding out how she scored herself a whacky gay sidekick/assistant on such short notice.

Wrapped up in his Dance Moms: Miami scarf, the guy shlepped the bench into the entryway and then clutched the previously positioned, yet suddenly displaced, trophy like he was Susan Lucci.

I applaud your win, Sir.  No one deserved it more.

#17.  Don’t Make Holly Smack You With Her Doctorate.

This one was Mom Holly butting heads with Abby.

Holly had a job and couldn’t always be at the studio.  Abby wanted Nia to single handedly take on every ethnic dance ever choreographed, and do it dressed like a National Geographic Special every week.

We can skim right past this one, since it will happen again next week.

#16.  Kelly Interrupts A Rehearsal And Swears And Threatens To Quit.

Ditto.  Next week?  Same scene.  Different outfit.

#15.  It’s An Audition For The Joffrey Ballet.  Shut Your Pizza Hole, Woman.

Stick all the Moms, and all the Candy Apples, into one crammed hallway.  Add some pizza slices and poor pointe shoe technique, and you have all the makings for a great bitch fest that was guaranteed to distract both Mr. Joffrey and most likely any cab drivers down on the street level.

As Team Abby worked on their ballet stuff in the audition room, Cathy and Kelly got into it outside the door when Cathy casually observed that Brooke’s feet looked eerily similar to Danny DeVito’s in the second Batman movie.

With that bad a** red haired Mom right in the middle of things again (…she has Fight Club radar, I swear…) one by one all the Moms pig piled on Cathy, like a nursery full of babies all waking up at the same time.

I have no idea how Mr. Joffrey contained himself enough to not slap the spaz right out of Cathy.  I also have no idea how she found pizza upstairs at the Joffrey.  According to the CW Network, ballet dancers don’t even eat.

Go figure.

#14.  Cathy Goes For The Nose.

It was Cathy vs. Christi.

I love when they throw down.  It’s Krystal and Alexis without the hair pulling.

At least so far.  We can only hope.

#13.  Kelly Swears Again.  But This Time It’s The “W” Word.

Blah Blah Blah.  Kelly and Abby went at it again as a random Mom scooted everyone out the door.

But this time Kelly called Abby a whore!

Yeah.  For realz.  And then Kelly took a drink out of her styrofoam cup, which was totally like she was toasting herself for saying it.

I still haven’t figured out Kelly’s hair, and it’s been almost two years. But I love her crazy face when she loses it.

#12.  Taking Out The White Trash.

Another screaming match at the studio.

When all the Moms took their kids and their Vera Bradley bags and stormed out the front door, Abby called them White Trash.

Hello, Pot.  Meet Kettle.

 #11.  Maybe If You Scream “Role Model” A Little Louder She’ll Hear You.

Another screaming match.  By now I was losing track.

Someone screamed something about being a role model, which I found quite ironic.

#10.  A Little Whine And Cheese Before We Kick You Out?

All the Moms got together out in the Real World, which was a great opportunity to have some snacks at a Mom home and snoop in the medicine cabinet while everyone else was downstairs in the kitchen.

After a few cocktails and half a Hickory Farms cheese log, the conversation got around to Abby’s favoritism and the special attention that Melissa’s two daughters receive at the studio.

Though not as sloppy as The Jersey Shore, you know what happens when you try to have a conversation after chugging down a wine box.

Melissa stormed out, quickly followed by Jill.

I’ll give the Moms all props.  How they drink and eat and scream all at the same time without biting the inside of their mouths or the tip of their tongues is an art form.  I can’t even answer my cell with a mouthful.

I bow to them.

#9.  And Just Like That…Poof!  Jill And Her Poof Are Gone.

Even with all the cologne and furniture, Kendall ended back on probation and Jill blew a nutty.  As Abby spewed a veritable grocery list of Kendall’s flaws, both Jill and her Pittsburgh Poof got more tightly wound until they both finally popped.

Snatching her kid like she was hoisting her Louis bag off the conveyor belt at JFK Airport, Jill vowed to leave and take Kendall to a studio who could appreciate her talents.

There was crying, and big hair and over accessorizing…everything that we’ve grown to love about Jill.

She set the GPS for Ohio and you know how that story ends.

#8.  Leslie’s Golden Rules Of Parenting.

Take the criticism and shut up.  If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.  I said shut up.

The End.

#7.  Is That Jerky In Your Pocket, Or Are You Just Happy To See Me?

Tommy’s Jerky Emporium Palooza Warehouse, or whatever it was called, needed to get more business.  Run by Cathy’s husband Mike (…whose Broadway stage name is Canton’s Jerky King…) both the business and Mike himself appear to be dead weight awkwardly stuck to Cathy’s side.

Times are tough, and Cathy figured a commercial would bring in more customers and put more money in the cash registers.

Filling the freezer with sellable jerky and preventing Mike from eating half the profits would also benefit the business, but maybe that’s just my observation.

Figuring she could kill two birds with one stone, Cathy somehow coerced Christi into allowing smiley little Chloe to appear in the commercial.  As Mike chewed off another percent or two of company profit, Chloe was forced to dance in the now infamous Meat Unitard.

Looking like a Jennifer Lopez lint roller that was dragged through a deli counter, poor Chloe survived with her dignity intact, though she did lose a slice of pepperoni or two in the back I noticed.

#6.  More Drama At Peyton Place.

After finishing up the Naughty School Girl number, everything fell apart in the back room.  Even though Peyton had incorrectly taped the “Kick Me” sign on a Good Girl’s back, she still felt that she had done better than most of the other dancers.

Snotty attitude, much?  Let’s just say that Abby Lee Miller don’t play dat.

#5.  Melissa’s Matrimonial Meltdown.

Since I don’t get why Melissa is so freaked out about the other Moms discussing her upcoming nuptials, I leave this one to the lawyers.

You would think that finally legalizing your relationship with the Mystery Man who has been cutting dance checks in exchange for booty calls would make everything less covert, but that’s just me.  Since her beau and Judge Judy are both on speed dial, we’ll move right along.

#4.  Brooke Shakes Her Pom Poms Somewhere Else.

Another Kelly vs. Abby kind of thing.  This time because Brooke wanted to try out for Cheerleading, which in my day required that you smile once in awhile.

She’s back.

#3.  Cathy Goes For The Nose, Again.  This Time Under The Sparkling Disco Ball.

Krystal and Alexis got a little closer to some hair pulling in this round.  Between witty repartee surrounding Christi’s metallic ensemble and some Goodwill donations, I almost missed the crazy old lady from Candy Apples taking it all in like she was at the best Bingo Night evah.  She was so captivated I think she missed the Early Bird Special.

Someday I hope to be trapped in an elevator with Bingo Lady and Jill’s whacky gay sidekick and marvel at them both until my head explodes.

#2.  Git Along, Little Jill Doggie.

Second only to the infamous Meat Unitard is Jill’s out of character cowboy hat.

Apparently thinking that the straw iParty hat would allow her to more easily blend in with the locals, Jill was looking like that person we all worked with who always dressed up for Theme Day.

When Abby refused to allow Kendall to wear the $500 costume that Jill was trying to sneak in under the radar (…and call it home made, natch…) our little cowgirl got her saloon pantaloons all in a bunch, threw a shoe and then headed out of Dodge.

Again.

#1.  Abby Cried?  You Mean…No…She’s Human?

With a nod to Victor and Angel (…I’m from Miami, bitch…) we finished off The List with Abby in tears.

The last time we had seen Abby she had just lost a competition by .999999999% or something to the Candy Apples.  She had witnessed the Golden Child Maddie forget her routine and run off stage.  She was also taking heat from all the Moms over her ongoing favoritism.

Not a good day at the office.

After a butt shot that filled my entire 50″ screen, Abby had left the competition early and headed off into the sunset.

It was, like, totally OMG.

But now she’s back., Candy Apples.

Chew on that.

 

 

You mind backing that thing up a little? All I smell are Altoids and fried Spam.

 

 

 

 

I’m back everyone! I’m spunkier, more confident and 100% Beef Jerky Free!

 

 

 

 

 

Oh. Hell. No. That skinny thing ain’t Maddie. Nope…that ain’t happening.

 

 

 

 

 

Dat’s rite. New weave. Same fierce attitude. Sasha Nia is back, bitches.

 

 

 

 

It was horrible. I had a scary dream there was a show called Dance Moms: Miami. Just hold me.

 

 

 

It was kind of like when Dorothy woke up and she was back in Kansas…all disoriented and not sure what the F*** just happened.

Did I go to a place where everything was kinda sorta the same, but different, or did I just dream the whole thing?  I remember lots of bright colors and something that I thought was a Pyramid of Shame.  But it was different.

I checked my head for any bumps, and everything seemed pretty normal.  I could swear I had just been in Oz…or maybe Miami…but when I opened my eyes I was back in Pittsburgh.

Pittsburgh.  Less Fierceness and FreezeIt hair gel.  More screaming and…well…more screaming.

That’s right, people.  Dance Moms has returned.

Abby Lee Miller is back to crush the competition…and the self esteem of any young girl who gets in her way.

After a mid-season break so we could all journey to beautiful, sunny Florida to see how the Boyz do it (…sing along if you’d like…) Down in Miami, it was time to get back to business in beautiful, middle of nowhere Pittsburgh.

We picked up pretty much where we had left everyone a few months ago, fresh off a less than stellar showing in Joisey.  The Abby Lee Dance Company had just brought home the trophy for a whopping 10th place showing in New Jersey, which I think was pretty much one of those tiny plastic cups they give you in Junior High when you win Best Chorus Singer or something.

In case you were packing for Miami when it happened, let’s just say that Abby was not happy after that award ceremony.  And to pour salt, or Candy Apple syrup, in the open wound…9th place had gone to Chaos Cathy Nesbitt and her dancers.

Yeah.  Them.  The ones from Candy Apples Dance Center.  Sworn arch enemies of the ALDC.

It was right about then that Abby had her first broadcasted breakdown.  I would bet good money that nobody…including Cathy’s own whipped Jerky King husband…enjoys coming in under Cathy in anything.

“Nobody Jerks It Like Mike” as they say on TV.

Yup.  It sounded dirty, and I probably meant it to be dirty.  But you’ll never know, because this is a family smack talking kind of site.

Anyway.  Abby had ditched everyone in New Jersey after a blubbering, rambling tearful fit.  Something about her reputation being ruined and blah to the blah…and then she took all her toys and went home.

The last few glimpses of Abby that we had seen before the break were big, rubbery back bumpers.  Her own,  as she wiggled it at Holly in defiance, and then the one attached to the cab that drove her off into the sunset.

But that was then.  This is now.

We started out with all the Moms and their dancing kids standing around the studio waiting for Abby to show up.  Nobody had seen or heard from her since the Jersey departure, and they weren’t sure what was going to happen this week.

Somebody had obviously gotten there before they arrived, because the Pyramid of Shame was already taped to the mirrors.  Der.

So I had a pretty good feeling that Abby was going to show up at some point.  How they all missed the 6 big pieces of paper stuck on the mirror is beyond me, but they were all running in circles thinking that they’d never see Abby again and they wouldn’t be able to get a refund on their Discover card.

Thirty minutes later, Abby decided to show up and start the Big Reveal.

Abby’s not big on salad bars, apologies or explanations, so the whole New Jersey thing was kind of brushed over with just a few “you guys sucked last weeks” and one or two disgusted facial twitches.

But the Moms weren’t going to let her off so easy this time around.  Before Abby could even get to the Pyramid, they immediately started in with the weekly Maddie Favoritism Speech, which I believe has now been televised more than the I Have A Dream Speech.

In New Jersey, Golden Child Maddie had forgotten her dance almost as soon as she stepped on stage.  Abby had been working her to the bone this season, and the combination of exhaustion and stale Jersey air probably led to her mental blackout.

I mean, look at what a NutWad that Housewife Teresa Giudice is.  Granted, her husband Joe is a Tool, but you tell me there’s not something about that state that just ain’t right.

Not that I’m an authority, but I’m pretty certain that at some point in their career every dancer spaces out a little.  But only Maddie had reduced Abby to tears.  Let’s just say that reaction hadn’t gone over too well.

It should also be noted that during Spring Break, Abby apparently took the time to take the bus over to Chico’s and pick up some new chunky jewelry.  That eyesore of a pink lip necklace must have been thankfully retired, because Abby was now loaded down in every scene with new simulated gemstones and knock-off versions of stuff like Joan Rivers wears on Fashion Police.

Abby also got herself a whacky new hairdo that she only wore in those Liberace closet confessionals.  It was like you took  a 1960′s Priscilla Presley bouffant and merged it with some Grand Ole Opry Marty Stewart hair and then stuck a Beyoncé fan in front of the whole thing going full speed.

Check it out.  If I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’.

This week they were heading to Nexstar National Talent Competition in Los Angeles.  Nobody knew much about it.  The only thing I know about it is that they pretty much ripped off the Star Trek logo and yet somehow got away without paying any court fees.

But nobody is going to the West Coast if they don’t get through the Pyramid of Shame.

The bottom spots were held down by Paige, Nia and Brooke.

Paige had kicked around a jailhouse prop on stage and got spanked for it.  Brooke didn’t show up at the Joffrey Ballet auditions wearing pointe shoes.  Nia, who also got her hair did over Spring Break and was getting all Diva with her new braided weave, had tugged at her leotard too many times in rehearsal which stuck her on the bottom.

I guess in AbbyLand, it’s better to have your pre-teen cookies actually pop out of your tube top if you want to climb the Pyramid.  Modesty doesn’t count for much anymore these days.

In the middle was Maddie, who should have been at the bottom, but there wasn’t room.

Plus, she’s Maddie.

My favorite little Mackenzie was also in the middle, just cuz.

Right then was when Real Time and TV Time got me all flustered.  Even though the show had been gone for a couple of months, I kept forgetting that in TV Time it was only the following Monday after the weekend show.  That would probably explain why I couldn’t believe that Mack still had no teeth.

Then I realized that it had only really been two days, and I’m pretty sure that front teeth don’t come in that quickly from what I remember.  But I love Mack, and the way she can stick her tongue through every other tooth hole.

Chloe was on top and was going to score the trifecta of dance:  Solo.  Trio.  Group.

As all the kids got their rehearsal groove on, the Moms headed to the Mom Perch to toss some mud around.  Turned out that in New Jersey, Abby had told Melissa she would be leaving early.  Melissa even got her that rubber bumper getaway car.

The thing was, though, that Abby had lied and said she was leaving because her Mother was dying or had fallen and couldn’t get up or some other nonsense, and Melissa fell for it like a suckah.

So Abby basically lied to the only Mom who, for the most part, is on her side.  The truth is out.  Abby is a liar.  A big fat liar.

Kelly liked saying that.  Over and over, with emphasis on the “fat” part.  No love there.

As a tease, we got one little blip of Chaos Cathy and her League of Evil Mall Shoppers over in Ohio.  There is no such thing as too much Cathy, even as she tries to grow out that asymmetrical raccoon hair, so I was sad that it was just a quick drive by to watch them celebrate the wobbly return of Taylor, who had doinked her ankle earlier in the season.  (Most likely from always having to hoist spastic Vivi-Anne up over her head in every number.  Am I right?)

Seriously.  Your Mom is a freakin’ choreographer.  When are you going to actually learn how to dance?

And psst…you have lipstick on your teeth, honey.

Back in PA, the Moms continued to bully Melissa into confronting Abby.  They even marched her down to the front desk but failed at stirring up any drama.  The desk was still a hot mess of receipts and cardboard pantyhose inserts.  Bookkeeping doesn’t seem to be Abby’s forte.

It was hard to tell, but you can be sure that one of those receipts was probably for all the new wallpaper borders that Abby had put up around the studio.  Everywhere you looked, it was miles of ballet toes and jazz shoes on those pastel borders you always find in the Home Depot bins with last year’s animated movie characters.

Make that Bookkeeping and Home Decor.

Since it was all about the Chloe Show this week, Maddie had plenty of time to sulk and question her own confidence.  Luckily Maddie had Abby to make certain that nobody forgot who was really the best dancer, even if it meant pushing Chloe and Mom Christi to the point of a nervous breakdown.

Abby had Maddie show the Brooke, Paige, Chloe Trio how to do their moves.  Abby had Maddie assist in critiquing Chloe’s solo.  Abby had Maddie count out Chloe’s moves.

I’m pretty sure that I even saw Abby send Maddie outside to cut the gas line on Christi’s car right before a commercial, but I could be mistaken.

During the whole Pyramid presentation Abby had mentioned how Maddie was originally going to be doing a solo but that it was cut until she got her act together.  But then suddenly it was still listed in the program and Abby wanted her to be ready to dance.  Maddie didn’t want to because she was suffering from insecurity and the sniffles, which we all know is the deadliest of combinations for a tween dancer.

Since this was the first week back for the show, the drama was just heating up.  Nothing major went down, just a lot of Christi eye rolling and Kelly trucker swearing.

At the competition, Mack wore a shrinky dink version of a lace body suit I swear Jennifer Lopez already wore somewhere.

Bitch stole my look.  MmmHmm.

Poor little thing took a face plant on stage when she slipped on her mini JLo sleeve, and tiny Mack has way less booty to soften the landing.  She cried and never really finished her dance.

They announced Maddie’s solo even though she had made the decision to not dance.  That caused some nervous pee and another Maddie melt down.

Now that you mention it, the girl cries a lot lately.

The group number was a stewardess, Jackie O pill box hat looking thing.  Chloe’s number was good.  Again, I swear she got taller.

Nobody did very well during awards, which Abby was quick to point out later on in the Green Room.  That discussion immediately erupted into another Kelly vs. Abby chick fight over stale choreography and Plus Size fashions.

I’m starting to think that before each competition they choose which Mom will be the Designated Kid Scooter Outer, because as soon as somebody starts going to battle with Abby, a random Mom scoots the kids out the front door like they’re late for the school bus.

Either that or there was a fire alarm going off in the hallway that I didn’t hear, because they were outta there so fast it almost caused a drop in cabin pressure.

Yup.  Abby and the gang are back, alright.  And it looks like they’re ready to rumble.

And just in time, because my Miami sunburn was starting to peel.

Bring it on, Pittsburgh.

 

 

I really thought I could make it two full seasons without popping off on that bitch. Dang.

 

 

 

 

I know, Peanut. It’s called Real Life for a reason. I’m not a big fan either.

 

 

 

 

 

When I get the Bloomingdale’s bill for this trip I am sooo dead meat.

 

 

 

 

You mean I came all this way for some Carnegie Deli cheesecake and we can’t even go?

 

 

 

 

 

Psst. Dawg. We were promised Jennifer Lopez would be the third judge.

 

 

 

Poor New York City.

It’s not like they don’t already have to deal with up to one million people in foam Nivea top hats every year during the annual Times Square New Year’s Eve Ryan Seacrest Love Fest, right?

It’s loud, chaotic and borderline uncontrollable, with the potential to do serious damage to the infrastructure of one of the country’s foremost metropolitan cities.

Just imagine the clean up.

Trust me.  That is nothing compared to the devastation that was just left behind by the unexplainable, unnatural, unpredictable phenomenon known as Abbeygeddon.

Loud.  Chaotic.  And completely uncontrollable.

As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if Google Maps now shows a smoking sink hole at the former location of the Joffrey Ballet School.

The Season Finale was super-sized, so I’m doing the same.  You might need some fluids if you don’t break this thing up into a couple of readings.

Abby Lee Miller and her Dance Moms hit the Big Apple this week for the open auditions for the Joffrey Ballet’s Summer Intensive Program.

The brochure says it’s an amazing opportunity for a small group of students weaned from over 20,000 applicants to experience NYC and all it offers.  It gives students who might never otherwise have the chance, to see how professionally they do things in the Big City.

It also apparently gives Abby and her Mom posse a chance to return the favor and show NYC how loudly they do things in Pittsburgh.

Seriously.  My ears.  People, please.

From the first second the  Abby Lee Dance Company landed on the East Coast, not even those jackhammers doing that seemingly never ending 24/7 construction on 42nd Street could drown them out.

The rehearsal studio that Abby (…or Lifetime…you know they make a ton of bank off those Jane Seymour movies…) had rented was text book NYC, full of shattered dreams, broken hearts and lead paint.  For every light in Times Square…blah to the blah to the blah.

Totally the pee wee version of Kids from Fame as Abby’s little nugget dancers formed their assembly line.

No joke.  At any second I expected Debbie Allen to walk in with all her crazy jewelry and strong Nubian Princess finger snapping to show Abby how it’s done…after she got done lunching with Maya Angelou, of course.

“You want Fame?  Well, Fame costs.  And right here is where you start paying…with sweat.  Five.  Six.  Seven.  Eight.”

But even in NYC nothing can get accomplished without the Pyramid of Shame, and Abby had packed her flash cards and scotch tape so it was time to get the ball rolling.

There was a lot of work to get done this week, so Abby had to pick up the pace a little as she unveiled the So What Do You Think The Bookies Down In Little Italy Are Giving For Odds That Maddie Will Be On Top Again? Pyramid.

Paige and her new too-old-for-that-little-head sassy haircut were on the bottom, because of some arm drama and the fact that she’s on her cell phone too much. Probably searching Bing for new dance teachers, but whatever.

MacNugget Mackenzie was on the bottom as well, basically because she’s a little kid and dances like one.  Go figure.  Abby wants her to improve even faster, which probably isn’t going to happen unless Mom Melissa sets aside some of her Top Secret Wedding Fund for a Time Machine, shoves her inside it and sends Mack to So You Think You Can Dance 2019 auditions.  She’s a kid.  At her age I was still eating paste.  Relax.

Chloe finished up the trifecta because she forgot her routine last week.  It happens.  She got taller again this week and her eyes seemed even closer together.  Team Chloe.  We love her.

Nia and Brooke were on the second tier, just ’cause.

And…oh…look.  Maddie was on the top.  I knew I should have put some money down when I was at the track.

Pushing the limits of stress fractures and Child Labor laws, Abby had filled their plates with solos, group numbers and yet another trip to Starbound Dance Competition the minute they finished Flashdancing at the Joffrey.  All the Moms were a little concerned about the amount of practicing that the girls were going to have to endure.  But they’re troopers.  And there were a lot of stores on Fifth Avenue that they needed to check out.

Kelly apparently already hit Soho before the first rehearsal, because she was working it for the studio mirrors in some Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In 1960s pop art dress.  Can’t get that shizzle in PA, haters.

Unfortunately, since they dance all day & night and don’t get to sit in the Mom Perch reading Cosmo, the girls weren’t as hip to the trends as they should have been and got called out for wearing their Pittsburgh Galleria Limited Too workout wear.  Nobody bothered to tell the Moms that every dancer is NYC is required to wear black just in case a scout from the Wilbur Theatre drops by to use the restroom.  You never know, Abby pointed out.

As Abby sent the Moms off to track down age appropriate dance wear for young girls playing convicts behind bars…did I forget to mention the group number?…you could almost smell the tension.

But the stench wasn’t as strong as the cow cud and jerky up in Ohio.

Chaos Cathy and her Avon Moms Gone Wild were also headed to NYC to compete against Abby in both the auditions and Starbound Competion, so the Evil Dance Lair was buzzing with their Master Plans.

Cathy’s expectations for her Candy Apples were nearly as high as Jill’s poof, if that was even possible.

I mean…did you see that thing?  Girlfriend’s hairdresser must be taking night courses in engineering, because she had built that BumpIt up to the point where it could almost impair someone’s vision if they were walking behind her at night.  That thing could cut off your light source.  Safety hazard, I tell you.

Jill’s goal was to pimp out Kendall when they got to NYC.  Make her a star.  Then go buy more faux fur and feathers.  And maybe more eyeliner if there’s a gift with purchase at the counter.

And you totally know that Jill is going to keep that Saks bag and use it for lunch every day until it falls apart just so all those Ohio Walmart greeters can see it and get jealous.

Poser.

How everyone got jet lag just going from Pittsburgh to NYC I’ll never know, but everyone did.  And everyone was kranky with a K.

Maddie and MacNugget had forgotten their Dance Bags at the hotel which made them cry, and made Melissa start percolating.  Melissa was not in the mood today.  At all.

Needless to say, the auditions were a little awkward.

Cathy and her League of Coupon Clippers Gone Bad all showed up and had to be crammed into the same tight hallway that Abby and about 200 other random, nameless dancers were located.  Imagine being in a bunker during War time with someone from the enemy side and not being able to blow their brains out with your Uzi.  It was like that.

Now imagine the enemy brought pizza and wouldn’t let you have any.

Seriously.  Who noshes on a slice of pepperoni during auditions at the Joffrey?

One.  Where did Cathy find a slice in a ballet school?

Two.  Her whipped husband can get her all the free jerky she wants.  Why pay for your meat, woman?  Stick some in a Hefty before you leave the house.

Now I’ve never been to a ballet audition, or a cattle auction, but I think they are both structured around the same format.  From what I witnessed this evening that’s what I believe, and I’m going with that train of thought from now on.

Start them out in a long, overcrowded hallway.  Walk them in.  Look at them.  Line them up at a barre.  Check out their flanks and poke your finger in their backs.  Except for the fact that I’ve only ever seen one cow wearing a halter top, I would have thought that I was watching one of those farm shows on that Rural TV Network.

Don’t ask.

While the girls were inside being weighed and getting their ears tagged, outside in the hallway Abby and the Moms were throwing down with Chaos Cathy.  So much so that the Joffrey Cow Guy had to come out and bitch slap a few Moms until they shut up.

Don’t piss off a ballet dude.  Just don’t.

I’ve been patiently waiting, and this was my last chance this season to see that red haired bad a** Candy Apple Mom lose it…but she didn’t.  Hopefully the DVD will have some unseen footage where she just goes bat s*** Ninja on someone.

After the auditions everyone left their empties and pizza boxes in the hallway and headed to Starbound.  The bullet points so we can wrap this thing up:

While Nia was getting her hair did and weave tightened up (…one of my new favorite TV moments, right up there with Lucy & The Chocolate Factory…) and Maddie was creating an impromptu six pack with her Maybelline brush (…check me out at the gym tomorrow with all these new ideas…) the Candy Apples were next door doing the same.

Rewind if you can and catch a glimpse of that freckly little red haired kid watching all the girls.  He is totally at that Girls are Gross age, and when he realizes that he could still be sleeping in the hotel while they are putting on their war paint he just shakes his head and realizes that this is his life now.  Gah.  Chicks.

The Jail Bird group number goes ok.  Holly isn’t a big fan.

The Candy Apples group number is some angelic kind of thing that once again allows Cathy’s daughter Vivi-Anne to not only stand in place, but take a load off and lay down for awhile.  Has anyone seen her actually dance in two seasons?  With all the cold meds that she has in her system I was afraid she would doze off down there, but luckily one of the over age dancers scooped her up like uncut jerky and hoisted her off stage.

Sign me up for that gig.  Lay around and have people carry you to where you need to be.  I’m in.

Then it just fell apart, in that good Reality TV fall apart kind of way.

Kendall couldn’t breath or move in her costume, because it was too tight.  Everything Jill wears is too tight, so she didn’t really see what the problem was and basically told her to suck it in and suck it up.

Maddie forgot her solo and ran off stage, crying like a little kid.  Oh wait.  She is a little kid.  Does anyone else on the show remember that?

Abby cried because Maddie forgot her stuff.  But Paige forgot her stuff once.  And so did Nia and Chloe at different times.  But Abby never cried for them.

I’ll do the math for you, to speed things up.  It equals favoritism.  And that made Holly pop off.  Melissa tracked down Maddie and popped off, too.  Why not?  Everyone’s doing it.

Let’s be honest.  By now, the exact order of everything doesn’t really matter.  Abby’s group came in 10th place.

I’ll do that math for you as well.  That’s 9 below First Place.

One point above their score was the Vivi-Anne Laying Down Dance.  Abby cried some more…or maybe that was the first time. I forget.  But they got 9th place.  One better than 10th.

Backstage, Cathy and the MeanMoms came looking for more pizza and humiliation.  Cathy made Abby cry again…or maybe it was leftover from the other cry.  Who knows.

It was chaos, I tell you.

Holly got into it with Abby again, who turned her backside to Holly and wiggled her…substantial…butt in anticipation of either a spanking or a kiss.  Regardless of what she was hoping for, there was so much black in my face that I thought my television shut off for a second.

Then Abby bolted out the door, raspily screeching “See you on the flip side,” which Melissa explained was code for “I’m a sore loser and taking my toys and going home.  Find your own ride to the airport, bitches.”

And she did.

Crying…again…Abby claimed she needed a break, got into the van and rode off into the sunset.  Kind of dramatically, actually.  Like you would do if you had an incurable disease on a soap opera and you were being written off the show and you were leaving Port Charles to die a slow painful death off camera.

Except she ain’t dying.  And I think the van had a sticker that said “Honk if you love Jazz Hands.”

Something tells me we haven’t seen the last of Abby.