First of all, nobody seems to know what the actual name of this special is. Throughout the regular shows last week, Ryan was calling it "The Best And The Worst." It was even labeled as such on the cue cards. The commercials and TV Guide, however, refer to it as "The Best Of The Worst." Considering that we don't see any "best" tonight, I'm guessing the second title is probably correct.
Ryan "Skinny" Seacrest greets us solo atop the Seal of Tsathoggua. He insists that the title is "And Worst," even though the promo just before the show said "Of The Worst." He's dressed in cheap-looking clothes that probably cost at least $500. He tells us that this show is about some of the "great" singers who didn't make it all the way to the semifinals, so clearly they weren't all that great. But more than that, it's an opportunity for us to wallow maliciously in the awfulness of all the bad performers that the show's producers milked for all they were worth and then cast aside like used condoms. I guess they had to put some good performers in or else this show would be classified as a form of torture by the Geneva Convention and they wouldn't be allowed to air it.
We'll start with the "good" in Los Angeles. Simon "Jackass" Cowell enjoyed Carrie Hunt's rendition of "God Bless America" nearly as much as he enjoyed the fact that she was thin, pretty, and eighteen. But then in Glendale, she moved from the "best" to the "worst" category with a wretchedly out of tune rendition of "Don't Cry Out Loud." Simon tells her back in Glendale that she's "lost something." Yeah, she probably was never that good a singer and practiced three songs for months to get good at them, and then her plan came tumbling down when she was given something new to sing.
Just as they did in the audition episodes, the show uses Carrie's patriotic song to transition to some awful auditions. We get a montage of various guys butchering "The Star-Spangled Banner" with their nasal voices. We've already seen most of them, except for David Gavin, who sounds like a middle-aged female gospel singer, except without any talent. Play ball!
In some thrown-together interview, Randy "Say My Name" Jackson whines about how awful it would be to listen to these folks singing the national anthem at a ball game. Then he asks somebody off-camera if he remembers some girl in Miami. Gee, not only are we getting bad, awkward auditions, we're getting bad, awkward transitions, too. He says the girl sounded like she was gargling while riding a sheep. Ah, he's talking about Monica Songok, whom they've already shown. She's the one with the super-mega-extra-vibrato. Yeah, she was really bad. Then Randy "Yo, dawg, yo!"s us over to Detroit to some guy who sang like a he was a car trying to get started. That would be Michael Quinchett, whom we haven't seen yet. Yeah, not only does he have a vibrato, but he can't seem to even hold that steady and vibratos his way up and down an entire octave. Randy tells us that if we combined those two, we'd get Dino from Los Angeles. Dino was the guy who butchered "The Greatest Love Of All." We get to "enjoy" his whole performance again, even the part where he stopped, and the judges were speechless, so he began singing again. He begins laughing when he's done, like he totally knows this all sucked and he was only doing it to be on television or whatever.
Commercials. Oliver Beene: Hey, let's take Malcolm In The Middle and set it during the '50s! It's doomed.