Tuesday. No unnecessary nonsense. Well, no unnecessary nonsense before the credits. Ryan "Same Script, Different Cast" Seacrest heads out on the Seal in a bland suit to greet the hooting crowd. He says that the show is at a "fever pitch" because the finale is next week. He says there was "outrage" last week when LaToya was ejected. Because that was the worst thing that happened in the whole wide world last week. Pavlov's Dawgs boo. Ryan uses the opportunity to encourage more people to vote so that the show is even more successful. Then he introduces the judges, Simon "Where Do Broken Hearts Go" Cowell, Paula "So Emotional" Abdul, and Randy "Why Does It Hurt So Bad" Jackson. Ryan calls Simon fat. Simon calls Ryan old.
Because it's sweeps and all, it's time to pull out all the stops. As the final guest judge, American Idol convinced one of the music industry's dark overlords to sit on the panel. No, not Tsathoggua. He's summering in Thailand. It's Our Dread Lord Clive Davis. Ryan explains that Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis owns the souls of many of our most favorite pop singers, like Whitney Houston, Carlos Santana, and Bruce Springsteen. He has his own shrine lurking somewhere in the Music Hall of Fame, where aspiring performers slaughter a calf at midnight on the thirteenth day of each month in the hope that they will someday join him there. Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis lurches out, his breath reeking of kitten heads, and gives Ryan a pat on the back to make sure he's still got his puppet hole. In a clip show, Ryan narrates how Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis came into existence not long after the first Australopithecus painted a picture on his cave wall that showed him being worshipped by everybody else in his tribe. Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis signed him to a three-album deal in exchange for four tons of giant mastodon meat. The contract was cancelled after the first album failed to rank in the urban market. Barry Manilow, Aretha Franklin, Rod Stewart, and Alicia Keyes (whose "Fallin'" is being used as the background song here) all have signed their souls over to Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis, as have American Idol's Kelly Clarkson, Ruben Studdard, and Clay Aiken. Although in Clay's case, Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis is only getting a percentage of his soul -- Tsathoggua retains a controlling interest.
Back at the stage, Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis sits between Simon and Paula. Ryan asks Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis why he got involved in American Idol. "Graaaaaahhhhhhh!" Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis explains. "Bruggggh! Hroaaaaarrrrrr." His translator tells us that Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis is telling us all how successful he is, before explaining that pop has been kind of blah for the past ten years, until American Idol came along. Whuh? Pop had its second coming over the past ten years. This show came along right as it started to go back into another decline. Eh, whatever. He's signed on with the show, so he'll say anything to make it seem important. Must find new souls to feed upon. Our Dread Lord Mr. Davis flutters his eyes a little bit, and somewhere J.C. Chasez engages in ritual self-mutilation.