Shandi gets on the phone her boyfriend Eric, who unwisely kicks off the conversation by asking, "You remember a girl named Lauren?" He tells Shandi that he's going to the movies with said Lauren, "because her husband works at AMC as a general manager, so he's getting us free tickets." Suddenly, big fight. Like, in a troublesome, confusingly edited way, where all of a sudden he's screaming that this so-called Lauren has "a husband and a kid," which causes Shandi to be all je t'accuse! in her response, "So people never cheat on their husbands?" Eric unwisely takes the route of most ignorance, insisting, "No! They don't!" World-weary from the miles she has walked (back and forth on the runway always to end right back at the beginning, but she has WALKED! In heels!), Shandi asserts, "Yes, they do." Yes. They do. She starts bawling and stage-whispers, "I hate you," and she confides in us -- US!: "Going to the movies. That's like, our secret thing that we share." Yeah, well. Sister's got to start keeping some better secrets.
I won't even recap the recapping of the recapped recap with this video again. Y'all deserve better than that. Except they do have to some freestyle dancing at the elimination that I cannot believe they didn't air. April kicks into a robot groove that makes me want to thank her very much, oh, April Roboto, but Janice lands a far more well-timed, "What the hell was that?" It's a human body moving without the assistance of saline and collagen. Such a thing must be unrecognizable to Janice by now. But what's awesome is that the first time this episode aired, that identical moment of Janice's was directed at Yoanna's fall. I know. Reality television was steeped in artifice all along just as much as ornate opera or American politics. Don't cry. Seriously. Catie. Don't cry.
What, Tyra? "Top models are called upon to do all sorts of things. Luckily, one thing they don't have to do is rap freestyle." They're called upon to "do all sorts of things"? When did supermodels become the Chamber of Commerce of the fashion world?
Tyra's point, I guess, is that they (all supermodels, so maybe including her?) suck at rapping. Apparently, at lunch in Little Italy, Tyra had told them that they were going to be taking a trip, which really clears up the confusion I felt when Tyra belted out her euphoric "Pack your bags, y'all, you're goin' to Milan!" Which I sing. Out loud. All the time. Like, say, right now. Because that shit really gets stuck in your head. Like, to the point of, say, encroaching insanity. Good thing she didn't rap the lyrics to "Helter Skelter," or my neighbors would be bleeding and my cat would be in the microwave.