New York, New York, a hell of a town/ Not plus-size up, but much sizier down/ You'll go to Hell if at Robin you frown/ New York, New York/ La la la la lee lee looooooo!
Just thought I'd start this week off with a song. I hope you liked it. Because if you don't, you're banned. Dee dee dee da da da hey! [Stage direction: Djb bows amidst cheering and roses, tipping his hat and spinning his cane.]
After a few scattered establishing shots of New York cribbed from Bette And Lily's 'Big Business' Guide To Madcap Manhattan Camera Angles, we cut to the exterior of the Flatotel, chosen as the ladies' lodgings on account of being the only thing about this whole modeling competition that can be vaguely depicted as "flat." With the exception of Elyse, of course. Oh, rim shot! Hi, Elyse! Just kidding! Don't come after me and bring me down with your secret weapon...of knowledge!
Up in St. Milan's-Of-The-Self-Righteous Church, Shannon shows a large Glamour Shots 8x10 glossy of her family to Robin, in which we can see that the Lord Himself invented fake nature backgrounds (it was on the fourteenth day. People don't like to talk about it much. But it's right there in the Book of...um, Jesus). The Fearsome (of the Lord's wrath that is) Foursome of Shannon's family smiles unforsakenly as, in the photo, Mr. Shannon mentally preps for next Sunday's "I Moustache Trim For Jesus" charity luncheon, for which Mrs. Shannon has to finish that Jell-o mold among the clanging din of her kids praying and me making uncomfortable assumptions of the pedestrian activities of people of faith. Sorry, Lord. In a confessional, Shannon frets, "I really thought that I was gonna be leaving," and we hop back to last week's elimination ceremony, where Shannon inexplicably (except that god hates models) almost gets booted and Tessa inexplicably (except that producers hate boring models) goes in her stead. But all is now well, according to Shannon: "I have my confidence back right now." Ebony, meanwhile, regards the picture, which has clearly been inoculated with some anti-non-Christian, African-American lesbian spray and treated overnight so that she can handle it without fear that it might suddenly burst into hellfire. You might have thought it was sweat dripping from Pat Buchanan's forehead every time you saw him on television in the weeks after he won Florida, but no. It's just an extra helping of that spray, because really, those people can pop up out of the most unexpected places. Ebony tells Shannon that she's "beautiful" (lecher!) and gives her a hug (pervert!), confessionalizing to us, "The girls are great. And I'm definitely fitting in. So I'm excited." 10-9-8-7...