2-1: Somethin Stinky This Way Comes

Which is more appalling: a fight in the first 30 minutes, a skank all sloppy drunk in the first 30 minutes or poop on the floor? (Poop on the floor.) Which is more disturbing: body shots with total strangers, lesbian panic or poop on the floor? (Poop on the floor.) Which is more entertaining: a skank with a bad lisp, a Flav-to-English translator or poop on the floor? (Poop on the floor.)

Honestly, I'm a little bit concerned, and not just because I've got to recap poop on the floor. How can they possibly top this episode? (My friend Maggie theorizes that someone will die this season. Sadly, I've already got a couple nominees.)

 

We open with the obligatory meet-Flav montage, which includes his credentials for both music and reality TV. We are also introduced to his love for Brigitte Neilsen, who -- I've said it before and I'll say it again -- is his true soulmate. Unfortunately, we are also made privy to this moment:

 

"Thank you for letting me inside you." Now, for my own sanity's sake, I've decided to interpret this in a metaphysical way: he's thanking her for allowing him to see her true self and become part of her life. Yes, yes, I know they got it on; I know my parents got it on, too, but I don't like to think of the specifics of that any more than I like to think of the specifics of Flav and Gitte. Ew!

But, as we all know, that didn't work out, nor did Flavor of Love Season 1. So Flav meets with a group he identifies as his producers and sternly yells at them a few times that he wants no more golddiggers.

 

They are chastened, yet confused.

Flav makes a point of saying that he hand-picked all the skanks for this season, so I'm holding him personally responsible for any and all emotional injuries I suffer over the next couple months.

When he picked Nibblez here, he got a lot of bang for his buck. She's stacked, she's bi-curious at the least, and she has no sense of shame. She does, however, have one hell of a lisp: "Flav isch the schnazziescht dresscher I've ever scheen." Needless to say, the editors use her for play-by-play commentary a lot. I can't tell whether that thing under her lip is a stud or a mole. I'm sure she'll tell us at some point, though.

 

I swear, all of America needs a remedial seminar in how to use finger quotes. Buckeey, shown here, keeps her fingers curved and aloft for so long, they soon resemble ineffective little pincer claws. I have no idea what she's quoting, either; she's just trash-talking the rest of the skanks without referencing anything. (I blame Britney Spears.)

Oh, yeah: Buckeey is the clear heir to New York's self-infatuated throne.

 

 

I can't figure out which male action star she most resembles just yet. I'm sure it'll come to me eventually.

I can tell you which classic blaxploitation star "Sapphire" resembles, though: the sublime Antonio Fargas.

 

And with an alacrity that would make Huggy Bear proud, she enters the first Season 2 fight mere moments after entering the mansion. She and H-Town, a skinny white chick, attempt to claim the same bed (in fairness, H-Town was there first, but she left for a moment). There's a verbal scuffle over flowers, then H-Town hits Sapphire on the side of her arm with the flowers and -- it's on:

Damn. Now, clearly, Sapphire took things way, way out of hand, but I think H-Town hitting her with the flowers was a classic case of one's mouth writing a check that one's ass can't cash. If someone is on Flavor of Love, they're essentially saying, "I have nothing to lose." Proceed with caution. On a side note, when you're holding someone by their hair and punching them in the head, as Sapphire is doing here, you have no right to yell "Get off of me!" repeatedly. After the first punch, if you let go of them, they probably will get off of you post-haste.

Although Flav clearly enjoys telling the story of the fight, after things have broken up, he's upset. He wants no fighting in his house and cannot allow the more guilty of the two parties to stay. So he has the two of them talk to him about it, one at a time. Some of the best moments, though, occur before they even plead their case with Flav:

 

Apparently, Sapphire means this as a kind of olive branch, but the way it's phrased is quite off-putting. No, I don't want any lip chap. Nor do I want any leg break, flu catch or skin melt. Sapphire and H-Town bicker a little bit more about who started it, then Sapphire begins to pray:

 

It's the small pinata on the table that makes this moment art. That, and the profanity Sapphire sprinkles generously throughout her prayer: "Lord forgive me for beatin' this bitch ass and for wantin' to beat her ass again." H-Town asks her if that's really necessary -- and while I totally understand her perspective, maybe she shouldn't taunt the person who just punched her in the head. Eventually, they each see Flav. H-Town explains things, and so does Sapphire:

I like to picture a team of linguistics experts trying to figure out where the hell that accent and speech pattern come from (is it Basic American Stupid, or a sub-dialect of Ig'nant?), but I really think Big Rick's face at the end says it all. (Also: that is not $800 hair. That is not even 800-lire hair.)

Flav reviews the videotape, determines that H-Town was mostly trying to protect herself and that Sapphire has to go. She, rather predictably, squawks all the way out and poor Big Rick has to bat clean-up for Flav again.

 

Oh, Rick. It's only going to get worse.

While the fight and its aftermath are playing out, the rest of the skanks are getting to know each other in a more sociable way:

 

Already, one tippler surges to the head of the pack. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Toasteee:

 

She's like the offspring of Bjork and a distillery. We see glorious footage of her two-fistin' the beverages, wobbling, giggling to herself, dropping her napkin with no recognition that her grasp has failed her and slurring her speech as she attempts to trash-talk the other skanks, most of whom find her somewhat entertaining. Incredibly, she neither passes out nor throws up, which means she's a veteran of the pro-am nightlife circuit.

 

Okay, how does that even happen? I am no stranger to alcohol, but at no point has it even occurred to me to lie prone on the bar and let total strangers lick me. Nibblez and Toasteee do full-length body shots off of each other, prompting disgust in a few of the skanks, but not for the reason you'd necessarily think. They're not grossed out by the hygiene issue so much as they are by the idea of women interacting sexually. Oh, God. Throughout the episode, lesbian panic infiltrates the mansion to an annoying, even offensive, degree. Nibblez does her part by feeding the squealing 'phobes some classic lines:

 

Based on the lip-reading I did for the bleeped-out bits of this conversation, I can state with confidence that she is referring to the female sex organs here. Some of the skanks are cool with this, even encouraging, but certainly not all of them. (Which strikes me as funny: sex with Flava Flav doesn't gross you out, but sex with a woman does?) Elsewhere in the mansion, other kinds of gender-bending are afoot:

 

"That is a dude!" Jason cannot help but exclaim as "Delishis" slams into view. And I've gotta agree, I've seen softer, more feminine features on hockey players.

Are you noticing a theme with the names? Specifically, the theme that Flav can't spell to save his life? I can't imagine playing Scrabble with him; it would come to blows within about three moves. As Flav names the skanks, a few stand out.

 

"Hood" frightens me.

 

"Bootz" makes me feel ashamed to be female.

 

"Spunkyee" annoys me from the get-go. You're not 7 years old, woman.

 

Dear Lord, it's a turkey with a perm.

 

Never was a skank so aptly named. Well, except for Buckwild:

 

Here she is, folks! "I stripped for three days, but they didn't have no practice pole, so I had to quit." -- That's her!! Buckwild will be great TV, I guarantee you.

 

"I was raised by television. Like, my parents are Jerry Springer and Oprah. That's why, like, I'm crazy, and black." I won't tell her if you won't, folks. Flav seems to warm to Buckwild, especially when she compliments him in a Flav-like way:

 

Similarly speaking Flav's language is -- GAAAAH!

 

Jesus H. Timberlake, woman, get thee to a bra fitting!! This is Like Dat, a woman who has a conversation with Flav that is so in sync, the rest of us need a translator:

 

Not since Barbara Billingsley volunteered, "Excuse me, I speak jive," in Airplane! have subtitles been so much fun. But the translators can only do so much:

 

Flav has a similarly incoherent conversation with Somethin, who seems to be getting along with him until she makes the mistake of touching his face. (Apparently, Flav doesn't like that. Who knew? Wait, didn't Gitte touch his face all the time -- ah, but that was different.) Soon, however, even that moment is cut short as Spunkeey interrupts Somethin's conversation with Flav, yammering about how Somethin is being fake, since she was one of the skanks who mentioned that she wasn't averse to knocking boots with women as well as men.

 

Somethin gets both defensive and ridiculous, shouting that "95 percent of men want their woman to be with another woman with them." That's right, Somethin: 60 percent of the time, threesomes work every time. Flav disappears from the fracas, as Spunkeey snipes at Somethin and Somethin calls out Spunkeey's motives.

 

Now, I think Somethin has a point, in that Spunkeey was trying to take out the competition any way she could (is that not the face of a Mean Girl?). But the way Somethin goes about it is ludicrous. So ludicrous, in fact, that the editors have a field day with the playback:

Hee!

 

"Dude!"

Elimination cannot come soon enough, but first, Flav reveals that there's a spy in the house of Flav.

 

When Eye'z makes her report to Flav, he seems a little overwhelmed:

 

To my great surprise and confusion, Flav reveals that Eye'z is the mole in the first elimination. I don't get it; why not keep her there for a few more rounds? Hell, Red Oyster made it into the final 7 last season! But he outs and ousts Eye'z, along with Hood, Chocolate (who? doesn't matter), H-Town (allegedly so she can see a doctor) and Turkey -- er, Bamma. Everybody else gets a clock. Yes, even Toasteee's drunk ass. I think the way Spunkeey receives her clock sums up most of the things I hate about her:

I even say "Ugh" aloud. But soon I'm yelling it, as Flav makes a horrifying discovery...

There's poop on the floor. One of the skanks has pooped on the floor! Let's go to the Zapruder film:

 

Ah ha! Here we see Somethin -- in a brown dress, no less -- bending to the floor to, I hope, pick something up. She then scuttles upstairs (leaving more evidence along the way, apparently) and barricades herself in the bathroom.

 

Not even the threat (or promise) of a giant fuschia heinie will get her out of there. Eventually, she opens the door to explain -- well, I'm not sure how she actually explains it, but I think the phrase "keep it real" pops up a few times, and Flav actually seems placated. He's okay with someone pooping on his floor, as long as they can't help it, I guess.

Still, though: would you want a suitor -- or even a houseguest -- who wasn't housebroken? For the rest of her life, Somethin will be known as "the girl who shit on Flavor of Love." She could devote the rest of her life to good works, earn degrees in every subject known to man, lead an invading army and find a cure for cancer, and she'll still be "the girl who shit on Flavor of Love." Unless... she becomes known as "the girl who killed that Spunkeey asshole on Flavor of Love." Oh, I can hope, can't I?

Comments

[Shawna]

I appreciate you taking one for the team on this. Though I tried I just can't make it through an entire episode.

[Cath]

The sad thing is, I'd watch and record this horrifying show anyway. :-)

[Susanna]

"It's the small pinata on the table that makes this moment art."

Hee!

[Katie]

You speak wonderful truths! I watched this for the comic relief and I think your summary only adds to my enjoyment! Thanks :-)

[Monica]

I laughed out loud so many times reading your recap. Bravo!

[Jesse]

yea! i agree! Eyez shoulda been around a lot longer than one episode! if she stayed longer she coulda found out more stuff. by the way, got any more stuff on Eyez? like the screen caps and stuff?

and yes, Bamma does look like a turkey with a perm!
LMAO!

[Cherelle]

I love this show expecilaly when it had Delishis on there she should of whooped New
york's ass

[beyatch]

please tell your bitch ass hoes to stop selling crack/cociane on the streets. my children come home every night high of thier mother fucking asses. i want to be a good mommy and feel that this show has corrupted any remedial incidence where i can attain a proper charater for my babies. i am ultimately raising crack whores. i mean serisously, sir, they fuck anything with a pulse and mind you, they never use the squatting postition when pissing on a public bowl. thank you for all of your help i will look forward to a change in my children. thank you sire.

[beyatch]

shit. they just came home. i am surprised because they only have 3 guys with them and a bottle of hypnotic. i wish i had an 8 ball to facilitate my needs. these stupid bitch-ass children of mine really have turned out to be the scum bags that i thought they were. you know what flaver falve? tomorrow morning, i will wake up with eight fever blisters and wonder why. but...need i never ask. one would only assume they come from my rat bastard daughters who turn out to be dirty pirate hookers and/or cum guzzling prostitutes. therefore, i confirm with you, the flavor of love, apparently, that my children turn out to be the largest group of double fisters in the nation. thank you.

[beyatch]

what a night. there are empty bottles lying arond, along with slightly dusted countertops with a remnance of the devil's danfruff--flave, i kid you not. at this point in the night, i have come to realize that i am truely upset. not only have i been betrayed by my own flesh and blood, but my little tiny babies that i raised with one working mamitory gland, did not furnish me with the proper amount of cocaine that i needed. well, flave, at this point, i will now resort to the streets;and be like one of them. my daughter suck hard core. i don't appreciate thier actions. stupid, stupid whores. good night and good luck trying to find a decent woman for your self, apparently, they do not exist. NAHHHHH JUST kidding. peace out. www.myspace.com/brunette_kiss