12:30 and the judges come back from break along with us; Randy mock-laughs at a bad joke that Keith makes, as though he has room to talk. Next we meet a sock puppet dog named Oscar, who is here with his ventriloquist master, Halie Hilburn. Soon we'll find out which of them is actually auditioning and when Keith asks, she says both of them. Except it's mostly Halie singing solo, with Oscar bopping along at her shoulder and throwing in the occasional howl and yodel. He gets his own subtitle while yodeling, though, so I guess this makes him an official contestant. But what if they get split up during the group round? Now that Halie has irritated everyone, she asks if she can put the puppet down and sing something else. Turns out she does a perfectly nice job on some other country song. The judges blame Oscar for holding Halie back and Mariah, Nicki and Keith say yes. Randy says he was going to say no, but he either changes his mind or doesn't, not that it matters either way. And then Ryan confiscates Oscar outside the audition room, to make him star in a sad little clip about Oscar begging for food and finally ending up in a Dumpster. I don't see why Oscar's the one getting punished here.
After a whole bit about how Oklahoma is all wholesome and home-grown and corn fed, we meet someone who's the opposite of that. Yes, this woman named Zoanette Johnson is... black. She does some booty-shaking in the waiting area and explains to Ryan that she made a bet to sing the national anthem if Obama won. Sure enough, she goes into the audition room and inflicts it on the judges. I can't explain how this happens, because she hits all the notes, but somehow it's terrible nonetheless. Keith even falls out of his chair on FREEEEEEEEE. She keeps dancing even after she's done singing and she and Nicki express their mutual obsession with each other before she hits some old-school Mariah high notes totally devoid of context, then gets all emotional and turns to the camera to demand an invite to the White House as though POTUS himself is watching. At this point the judging seems redundant, if not outright extraneous, but they do a one-two-three-yes. "I think," Randy adds. When she leaves the room, they already look apprehensive about the fact that they're going to have to see this madwoman again. As are we all.
At 3:30, there's a montage of people crying, mostly as a result of rejection, although one guy sobbing like he's at a mob funeral is actually going to Hollywood. Anastacia Freeman, however, is crying even before she enters the audition room. Ryan procures her a napkin to wipe her eyes with and lets her pull herself together before sending her on in. The judges start by letting her climb down off her absurdly vertiginous heels and giving her a little encouragement about being the next American Idol, and then she sings "Unbreak My Heart" in a way I wish I could unhear. They lie that they aren't laughing at her and let her continue in a style that betrays a completely unique grasp of key, melody, rhythm, music overall and the nature and physics of sound itself. Randy wonders if someone told her to come audition, and Anastacia -- with the help of a "Cheap Dramatization" (it even says that on the screen, as she's played by some production assistant) -- tells the story of being instructed by God to audition for American Idol. Not The Voice or The X Factor, the mention of which on this show is probably a bigger miracle than being spoken to by God. Anyway, the judges do a one-two-three-no and Anastacia leaves angry, complaining in the parking lot about them and how she won't listen to them any more or return to auditions if they're here, and besides she heard Nicki Minaj worships the devil. And then she can't even dramatically rip her audition number off her shirt properly. That wasn't very nice of God to set her up like that.