Brandi is chosen to get grilled first, and is nervous. She is led into a makeshift interrogation room surrounded by black curtains, and a bright light shines in her face. The supersluts are sitting at a table like Randy, Paula, and Simon. But they have more cleavage. (Well, they have more cleavage since Randy got his gastric bypass.) The table features the same lamp that I have on my desk at work! And I totally wear a lace corset to the job, too. The supersluts find out that Brandi is an exotic dancer, and Ky asks if she's looking for a ticket out. She says, "So far, no." She adds that she's going to school for interior design and "architect." Amy asks, "What do you want to design, strip clubs?" EW! Step off my ho, ho! Judge not lest ye, Bret Michaels superfan, be judged. Ky asks whether Brandi would still be with Bret if he wasn't a rich rock star. Brandi says she would. She's never been with a rock star in her life, and it's not about that. The supersluts think that Brandi's perfect answers mean that she's fake, and they're not buying the ass that she's selling. They don't think they're seeing the real Brandi.
And then, Amy leans over to Allison and whispers, "I think her hair is smoking." At first I was like, "Well at least they like Brandi's hair! Maybe a simple compliment will forge a new relationship between these two parties." And then I realized that Brandi's hair is LITERALLY smoking. And the bitches just keep asking her questions! Soon she'll go up like Michael Jackson in a Pepsi commercial and the supersluts will each have her eventual collapsing nose on her conscience ten years from now. I hope you're happy, cartilage killers. Brandi finally gets burned by her bobby pins, and the supersluts let her go. She interviews that being interrogated was a nightmare. The supersluts don't like her either, and agree that she's fake. I normally don't condone violence with molten bobby pins, but might chance my stance in this case.
Sam is next. Allison asks whether Sam thinks Bret has feelings for her. She does, based on the way he looks at her and the stuff they talk about. Allison replies that Bret is nice to everyone. Or in her experience, everyone who compliments him on the suppleness of his old wrinkly balls. Sam's heart starts to pound. She says that she and Bret connected on an emotional level when she was feeling insecure about the competition. She adds that she doesn't deal well with other girls, and that it's hard for her. They start whispering, and Sam wants to tell the girls to fuck off, kick them in their faces, and walk out. That's totally what would happen in The Rock Of Love Story, as Kimberly Stewart stretched her dramatic legs yet again as the vulnerable and intense Sam. Amy says that when you're dating a rock star, you can't disappoint him in bed, and asks to hear Sam's best fake orgasm. The implicit message is: when you have sex with Bret Michaels, you need to have this one in your pocket. Sam refuses to do it. Allison is all, "Come on, you NEVER fake it?" and Amy is appalled that she's too shy to moan. Sam says she doesn't have to prove anything to these bitches. Amy notes that Sam seems to have a lack of self-confidence. Sam agrees. Oh, Jesus. Ky says that it seems like Sam is going to break down, and asks if she's emotionally stable. Allison chases that by asking Sam if she sees a therapist. Sam is falling down an endless well of grimy superslut cleavage right now, and one fears it'll take a Baby Jessica-sized miracle to pull her out. Amy doesn't think that Sam is strong, secure, and independent enough to date Bret. It's taking all that Sam has not to break down. She leaves the interrogation room and heads to the couch, where she starts crying. Brandi tries to comfort her, but Sam is pissed that the supersluts got to her. She threatens to leave for, like, the ninetieth time.
Jes is next. She tells the supersluts that she's a hairstylist and bartender in Chicago. Good to know! Ky asks her the name of the drummer in Poison. I feel ashamed to admit that I know it's Rikki Rocket. I'm more ashamed that I know how to spell it. I will say that Jes is cooler than I am, but then again, she didn't have to grow up in the '80s. PERMED BANGS, everyone. Jes also has to admit that she doesn't have any of Poison's albums. Amy asks about Jes's lips, and she admits to having them injected. No! But I thought her body was so pure, minus the pink hair! Allison then says, "I'm just going to assume those are your real boobs." In the words of Jes, via interview, "Uh, yeah you stupid bitch, I wouldn't buy boobs and get them this fucking small!" They ask if she's a good kisser, and to choose one of them on which to demonstrate. Jes, despite emphatically not wanting to make out with a chick (boo), goes to town on Ky. Ky notes that she's into the lip biting. Amy asks how it's going in the house. Jes says that they're all cordial, but that she's had some issues with Lacey. Ky asks if she thinks Lacey is crazy. I think "Uh, yeah you stupid bitch" works as a response in this instance, too. Amy compliments Jes on her grace under pressure, and Jes feels confident that she didn't present herself as something she wasn't.