But does he have the talent to back it up? He does not, caterwauling off-key to the wings off stage right. The judges get up and leave en masse instead of just stopping him like they normally do. Maybe it was their break time anyway, but that just seems unnecessarily mean. Deangelo just keeps singing to the empty judges' table while the judges walk through the tunnel complaining about jokers like Deangelo trying to be funny. Hey, maybe he sincerely sucks? But coming off stage, he figures that he's better than Justin Bieber, so the only possible explanation for the judges' behavior is that they are "devil worshipers." But we're not done trumping up the Deangelo drama; he's leaving without turning in his microphone. A crew member tells us it's a three-thousand dollar piece of equipment, and with some Cops-style editing (including the theme song), Deangelo ends up getting arrested and leaving the scene in a police car. After that silliness, L.A.'s self-righteousness about how serious this all is rings a little hollow.
Tate Stevens is a twangy-voiced, cowboy hat-wearing good ole boy from Belton, Missouri. He's here with his eleven-year-old daughter, who encouraged him to try out. Oh, and also, he says this is the chance he's been waiting for his whole life. He comes out and jokes that he does rap, and gets a big cheer for his hometown. He talks about his job with the street department and sings "Anything Goes" (not the Cole Porter one) after winning the judges over with his personality. And then with his singing, as they let him actually perform the whole song.
Demi points out the standing ovation he got from the audience, Louis calls him a country star, and Britney flatly declares him "my favorite so far." L.A. is only mad Tate hasn't done this earlier. And then Tate ruins the moment by taking off his hat and showing his hair. Yikes, Tate, hat-head much? Luckily he puts it back on in time to rack up his four unreserved yeses. L.A. announces to the crowd that they're done with Kansas City. Well at least until we see more Kansas City auditions tomorrow. Louis and L.A. bid each other a fond farewell, Louis having failed to make any kind of impression at all. Well, except for my newfound appreciation for Randy Jackson.
San Francisco again? Again? The three non-Simon judges arrive with the usual pomp, even though at this point I think they're lust leaving so they can keep coming back. They talk about Simon so he can make an overdramatic, belated entrance. Can we just get on with it?