Oh, and then Ambre. Her talent is opening up her package. She gets an extra fifteen seconds, because that's the way Bret rolls. Oh, and then Daisy, who, like, wears slutty clothes and sings. Bret really, really likes Daisy because, again, he is a fan of a well-appointed package. Hey! And then Peyton! She wails on a guitar and sings like Melissa Etheridge in her bedazzled bandana. Bret loves her and thinks she's just cool. Even though I think she might get a blonde buzz cut and shout, "Stop the insanity!" at any moment, I tend to agree. Angelique is next, and her talent is getting naked and slathering herself with -- yes, it's true -- sugar-free chocolate mousse. Or, as Angelique says, "Diet sugar." Because of Bret's dia-BEE-tis. The sugar you don't put in your chocolate mousse today is the ass you don't have to jab a diabetic-coma-ending needle into tomorrow. Bret says, "I'm looking for a woman who I can connect with spiritually. And any woman willing to lick chocolate mousse off of her own breasts...that's a spiritual connection that you can't deny." Hey, at least he didn't say "breasteses."
Bret announces the three winners! It's based on talent and sexiness. Peyton wins the talent contest, and feels not only exhilarated but validated. Daisy also wins for no reason at all. And then, Bret tells Kristy Joe that she was super sexy, but in terms of originality, he has to go with Ambre. Kristy Joe is SHOCKED. Maybe Bret wanted to reciprocate and give a worthy present for Ambre's 112th birthday?
The talent show ends and the VIP girls settle in for a long winter's nap. Downstairs, however, the other girls are ready to party. Bret thinks the VIPs are losers, and says that the Bret Michaels rules state, "Don't go to bed early." He wears his super-sized red bandana, which covers at least two quadrants of his face, and -- I shit you not -- serenades the girls with "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." There is some moistening of ye olde panties. Bret, still pissed about the lame-o VIPs, decides that there will be an old-school dance-off the next day. What the fuck is he even talking about? He tells Peyton to gather up the others and express his displeasure to the VIPs. Peyton, as ever, takes this mission very seriously and leads her troops upstairs. The VIPs are all, what the fuck, and Daisy asks if they're going to be square-dancing or something. Daisy, you wish, because momentarily you will be engaged in...RIVERDANCE!!!
The next morning, Big John calls the girls together and rips into the VIPS again, saying that if something is going on, they should attend, at least for a while. Destiney panics. And for reals, I say let the bitches get some Zs. After all, they need about 30 cumulative years of beauty sleep. The three challenge winners get Bret Mail, which is read demonstratively by Ambre: "Last night I peeped your best / You proved to me that you can entertain / Now it's time for all-terrain / Later tonight three of us go / Exit stage left, you're off the show. / See you downstairs in one hour." Can they not add a "I know you smell like tuna, be sure to shower"? Unresolved couplet!!