The song finally ends, and more audience members look like Joe Rogan just forced them to eat South American beetles. Matt "Velvet" Dusk has to ask for applause and points out, shrewdly, that Jenn's "straight from Oregon," implying that she's only onstage tonight as a favor. Really the best possible solution to this, I think. I love you, Matt "Velvet" Dusk. And all your ways. Cut to Joe gloating over just how embarrassing that must have been for everyone. "As predicted, Jenn wasn't very good," laments Matt "Velvet" Dusk in an interview. He smiles ruefully, thinking he made the best of it, which he did. "I just really hope that people weren't laughing at Jenn." Oh, that's so sweet. I mean, I know he was using her as a pawn in his twisted mind game with reality, versus foes unknown, but I like that this is his last word on it: I hope she didn't hear anyone making fun of her. As Jenn makes her way post-haste out of Zax, you can tell it doesn't matter: she's mentally right now making fun of herself. Which, again, so cool that she knows how much she sucks. Too bad she takes that too far and goes from "reality check" straight through to "the kind of self-esteem issues that would make Janeane Garofalo slap you silly." "But Joe seemed to be happy so you know, I got my chip," he grins. I don't know what that means but I'm glad he got one. "We'll see what happens. Maybe I can get that Showroom now." His eyebrows do a little calisthenics routine at this point. It's weird.
Outside on the street -- Jenn got to go outside! -- she calls Grandma to tell how it went. "I definitely think it could have gone better, but at least I got up there, and it was good for the experience." What? It was good for the experience. Revisionist history again, here: turns out Jenn's dream was to get over her fear of being onstage, now? Not to be a singer? Time-traveling Jenn strikes again. "When I saw Matt 'Velvet' Dusk on stage I thought to myself: 'How brave and amazing of him, for I have always had a fear of heights.'" Her incredibly made-up face screws itself into a seriously saddening mess as she continues to speak brightly and sweetly to her grandmother, and it's pretty effective. That gets me every time, the smile-voice during weeping. I like Jenn a little more now, if only because I'm maxed out on feeling ashamed for her and it had to go somewhere. She interviews that she was "swallowing [her] tears and [her] heart," which in Jenn-speak means she didn't want to cry on a busy Vegas street because it's tacky, and that it was an "absolute nightmare as far as Jenn goes," which almost makes sense, I guess, and then she tells Grandma she doesn't know what she's going to do now. Let's brainstorm. Cocktail waitress, to lounge singer, to...what now? What is the vector? President of the USA? Spokesperson for PETA? Her next line is just so telling: "I'll get a job doing something. Real soon." It's so weird and unplanned, like this whole storyline weren't cooked up around Joe Eszterhas's coffee table in the time it takes to hide your stash from the cops and film a quick double-penetration scene. She's still fake-smiling into her cell phone -- it's a worrier -- as she heads back into the Nugget for phase three of her big career trek, and...phase three is not U.S. President. I'll tell you that much.