Well, the season just ended, and already they've packaged up a "reunion" show. Right, you scoff. Those shows always suck. Suspend your cynicism for a moment and revel in this one, though. This covers the time after the show wrapped filming, and the shows they played before airing, and shows and reunion times after the show aired. Thorough! Dense! Packed with much drunken, revelatory goodness! It was really, really good. I mean, it was like hot-sex good. And emotionally painful at times! There's shit in here that I felt icky just watching, and I can't imagine how I'll feel when I transcribe the stuff. Inside info? You'll get it. Blooper reels? They're there. Closure on the Angela/Fletcher issue? Yes. Oh my sweet lord, thank you for this reunion show.
Some adult language goes on in this show. And some Santa-stealing. And nuts in the pool.
Previously: FLICKERSTICK wins. Yeow!
Brandin's dragging his suitcase down the hall of the Marriott, gearing up to return to Fraggle Rock, I mean "Dallas," a happy Fraggle, I mean "man." He doesn't know how they did it, but they did! It was the white belt. Dom says they were on the road for 54 days and it was "a grueling, stressful trip." When did Dom ever stress? Oh right, I remember. Episodes one through the end. He and Corey were pretty well matched for drama queendom. We see a plane in the sky, and wham, the FLICK boys de-plane in Texas. Corey, or Whorey, the ultimate bimboy, says he can't wait to go home, see his girlfriend, and "look very unguilty." Oh, lord. He says he plans to beg, plead, flower-fur-and-bejewel her to keep her. Oh, and he wants to wait until "the day of the show" to tell her what he's been up to. "That gives me three months! That's a decent plan. And by 'decent' I don't mean decent, as in, noble." Oh, Corey. You are so simple. It's a good thing you're pretty.
Okay, Rex deplanes, walks up to his wife, and gives her the sideways one-shoulder hug. Oh, weak. She doesn't even try to hug him. He's got about eight days of facial growth on him, headphones, and that daggy polka-dotted shirt on. Husband and wife both chomp on gum with amazing speed. This looks bad. Can I just say that I am bugging out because my b.f. Ben is going to Europe to play drums in a rock band, and since he got that gig my friend Michelle has been calling him "Ben-inic"? Well, I said it. Please let there be some guys in bands that don't cheat. And even if there aren't, well, at least I won't see it on TV. Anyway, Whorey stands around with his woman and riffs on Rex, calling him "El D!" and shit. Mrs. Rex just chomps her gum stoically. She must have known some shit went down. Maybe there's clumps of green hair caught in Rex's stubble. Rex says his wife is "kind of oblivious to all this rock stuff," and I'd have to agree. Perhaps she was just hoping it'd stay local. Rex goes on to say that she probably won't understand that "when [they] get signed," he'll have to be gone all the time playing gigs and being away. Well, hardly anyone is on the road 365 days a year. And some rock stars bring their families with them. But we hear what you're screaming, Rex. Your marriage is about to end. This is the pain I'm talking about, people. There's nothing to make fun of! It's too real. Goddamn you, reality television!