And there she is, folks. Supermodel Tyra Banks, standing on the top of the ship, striking a pose, and wearing an outfit with fifty-seven zippers. Whatever. I'm guesstimating. She congratulates the twelve contestants for getting this far, and she introduces her deaky sidekick, "J. Alexander," a "runway trainer." That such a job exists should be beyond the scope of human possibility, but then again, I recap reality television for a living, so who am I to throw stones at fake noses? We flash to a black-and-white-and- chick-a-wha-wha-all-over montage of J. in action, walking back and forth down a runway wearing high heels. I can't believe that this man was actually allowed on a military vessel, and I say this from the perspective of someone who's not exactly an ROTC candidate himself. But seriously you guys, in those heels, he both asks and tells. Still in montage, J. yells at an unknown presence, "My motto is: walk like it's for sale and the rent is due tonight." How could any educated, cosmopolitan Middle Easterner mistake this industry for prostitution?
Tyra's gonna surprise ya. "I'm not wasting any time. I'm throwing you straight on a runway. No training, no nothing." And there's a runway set up in front of thousands (I'm guesstim...oh, never mind) of uniformed men. "And I'm gonna be watching you," Tyra adds, pointing two fingers toward her eyes and then out toward the girls. It's a spell! She's evil Tyra! Surely only Lara Klingon Boyle knows how to thwart her.
Back where people love America, J. takes the ladies into a makeshift back room with what look like many expensive pieces of clothing. He adds that they all have to do their own hair and makeup in thirty minutes, and that they have three different outfits that they have to wear in the right order. They primp and change and change and primp, a countdown clock ticking down in the lower left-hand corner of the screen, like zero will be the New Year, and The Year Of The Shallow Drama Queen will commence. And one person who won't be dressed to enjoy the celebration is poor, befuddled April, who has one boot and one silver high-heeled shoe on with a minute and twenty-eight seconds to go. Jenascia tells us that she's got everything in the wrong order, and leaps in to help her new, er, "friend." April expresses gratitude among the panic, voicing over for future irony, "Every inch of me emotionally is leaning up against this little 5'6" girl." Way to thank her AND point out her flaws simultaneously. Well done, and a happy new year to you! Meanwhile, Jenascia confessionalizes some time later, "I'm not really that nice of [sic] a person. I don't know what's come over me." Don't worry, Jenascia. I can't imagine it will take long for yourself to shine through. Here in this Year Of The Shallow Drama Queen, you'll be apt to forget auld acquaintances in no time, I'm sure.