Previously, Chris took out his insecurity about this venture by tempting Bryan into falling off the wagon, but it turned out that Bryan was more interested in doing a big fucking cannonball off the wagon, or possibly a bellyflop. Now he is drunk at all times, disappointing management, trainers, and even Bryan Michael Cox, their producer. Katie booked their first gig, once again showing her craziness colors by making sure it's in three days, and the guys don't even have a name or a song. Just a big fat drunk lead singer in his fifties and a bunch of whining retards singing backup.
Now, there are two days left until their gig, the halftime show at a basketball game. Cox shows up so they can hear the demo. For the first time! Two days left! It's not only Katie and the guys who are merrily throwing themselves into the abyss here. I can't wait until next week when they all have their vocal cords surgically removed in the dead of night and the show can be like, "Why do they call themselves singers? They don't even have vocal cords!" Chris points out the very valid point that they have never sung together, have never even tried harmonizing, and have yet to learn the song. Much of which I lay at the guys' door, because I realize they're on a stupid crazy production cycle, like all reality shows, but honestly: what do they do all day? I'm not a singer, but if I was in a house with guys whose money came from singing, I think it would be fun to at least try harmonizing with them at some point. Wait, I forgot they spend all their free time whispering behind Bryan's back and pretending not to imagine what Jeff Timmons looks like naked.
Cox tells them the song is both "fast" and "hot." That's good. Hopefully it's going to be chock-full of thinly veiled sexual innuendos and repetitive clichés. I was so afraid it was going to be a tepid waltz about blue-chip stocks and chastity! But this sounds much better. Rich likes the song -- frankly, I like the demo at least -- but cannot string three words together to tell you that in a way that makes sense. They bounce around and dance dorkishly and purse their lips in time to the song. Watching people listen to music is like watching them slowly strip off their skin and turn it inside out. Bryan shouts out random "Oh!"s and "Hey!"s along with the song, like if the Ying Yang twins were your dad. It's super sad. Cox explains that every song has a catch phrase that is repeated no less than 1116 times in the song, and that this one is "work it out" or "working it out" or something dumb like that.