Well, I was going to say a quiet requiem mass for the demise of "Rock of Love 2," but apparently it ain't over until the fat lady sings or the blonde stripper yanks a weave out of another stripper's head, whichever comes first. Check out this clip from next week's reunion show:
Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in!
OK. Let's get thee to a recappery!
**SPOILERS THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU PUKE!**
Previously on "Rock of Love 2," Destiney was eliminated by reason of lack of insanity and Bret's final skanktestants were Daisy, her breasts, and Ambre.
Bret announces that they are all to be whisked off on a private jet to Cancun, Mexico, for a romantic three-person vacation. They arrive at a swanky hotel and are greeted by traditional Mayan dancers. Daisy looks confused, as do her boobs.
The girls go up the room they are sharing, which is kind of small, although there is a bed out on the balcony. A kind and thoughtful p.r. firm has left them gifts--a bunch of teensy tiny t-shirts and crappy hats to wear. They both pretend they are from Bret and squeal with so much delight that it makes me kind of sad.
They join Bret for dinner. Daisy whips out a list of questions she has written down that she wants to ask Bret. Daisy can write! Sentences! Or, at least, sentence fragments. Or someone else has written them for her. Which means she can at least read! Or she has memorized it all. Which means she can memorize! Well, maybe. Anyway, her main question is she wonders if her connection to Bret is merely a physical one, or if it might also have a deep, meaningful, intellectual component. Bret replies, "Uh, mainly physical." She tells Bret that she doesn't mean to use her sexuality on purpose, because as we all know, poor Daisy just woke up one fateful morning to find that God had bestowed upon her ginormous breast implants, trout lips, fake eyelashes and a complete wardrobe of stripper outfits and whore shoes. To not use these holy gifts would be an affrontery to the Lord, right?
Ambre wants to know what Bret thinks she "brings to the table" besides brownies, mom jeans, and 6 extra years that she forgot to mention. Bret thinks Ambre wants to win at all costs, which doesn't sound like a compliment, but with Bret you can never tell. Daisy and Bret both think Ambre is a jenny-come-lately to the whole rock skank lifestyle, and Ambre says that while yes, it's true that Bret is the first member of Poison she's ever dated (which is more than Daisy can say!), and yes, her previous beau was a Little League coach who liked to wear a "World's Greatest Cook" apron over his pleated shorts while he grilled in the backyard with the neighbors, she is now certain that a talentless balding, bewigged former rock star from the '80s who stuffs socks into the crotch of his carefully-ripped jeans is exactly what she's been looking for all along.
Bret tells them that first Ambre will have an all-day date with him, and then Daisy will have her turn. Shudder.
The next morning as Ambre is getting ready for her date, she and Daisy naturally get into a huge fight over sexiness. Daisy has hurt feelings because Ambre played the "sexuality" card with Bret, ie, saying that Daisy has sexuality and is not afraid to use it on weak-minded prey like Bret. Well, der. What the hell else is Daisy supposed to use--her razor-sharp wit and jaunty banter? She can barely speak without using her hands! (Seriously, what is up with that? The way she gesticulates it is as though she is physically dragging each and every syllable out of her cerebellum with her hands. If her arms were cut off, I'm pretty sure she'd be a mute.) Then Daisy really goes for the jugular, accusing Ambre of being UNSEXY. There is no worse insult than can be hurled on this show. Really. It's the "n-word" of "Rock of Love." Of course Ambre gets all riled up at this terrible slur and demands to know how, besides her complete lack of body fat, her scary/perky/intense personality, and soccer mom looks, she is not sexy. It quickly becomes like Joe Pesci in Goodfellas: "Am I clown to you? Do I amuse you? How am I so un-sexy? HOW AM I SO EFFING UN-SEXY?" So Daisy calmly explains that Ambre is a hunch-backed old crone who wears granny panties, and then proceeds to get up and rather cruelly imitate her hunchy posture while walking. Ambre, like the good suburban housewife she is, just sees this whole scene as one of life's lemons that has been handed to her, and she is determined to make lemonade out of it. Hot, sticky, sexy lemonade!
She arrives at the date with Bret, which takes place at what appears to be a Disneyland version of a Mayan temple in the jungle. Bret says he knows Ambre enjoyes "adventures," so they are going to have one and then get spa treatments. Their "adventure" consists of walking down a path and touching some giant moths. Dude, they could totally have an adventure like that at my house, for free. Then they get massages on tables set in the water and I start to get violently jealous because it really does look like a beautiful setting with a waterfall and greenery and discreet Mexican masseurs. And I remain very covetous until the precise moment when Ambre takes it upon herself to "step up her game" and straddle Bret's midsection while he lays on his stomach on the massage table. He's greased up like Ned Beatty in Deliverance. Much like a pus-filled blister, a really long makeout party then erupts, but it's far more revolting. (The viewing party finally figured out what makes Bret's makeout sessions with Ambre particularly nauseating and it's that she kisses exactly like he does, leading with her lips, like a dead fish. That's why he thinks she's "by far the best kisser" he's ever encountered! I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.)
They eat lunch and Bret talks about the fact that in the past he has dated people more in the Daisy vein, ie, young, cheap, and retarded, but Ambre goes into full-on selling mode. She knows her ABC's--Always Be Closing. She sounds like an HerbaLife or Mary Kay rep or something, with her eyes bulging out and her over-the-top perkiness that makes me want to lie down. She is in such a great place in her life! She knows exactly what she wants! She has so much to bring to this infamous table! Bret worries once again that she won't be able to handle his "rock-n-roll lifestyle." Oh, Bret. Anyone who has attended an oldies show in between riding the Tilt-a-Whirl and eating a corndog can handle your "rock-n-roll lifestyle."
After the day portion of the their date is over, they head back to the hotel to take an hour-long break and get ready for the (boom-whacka-whacka-boom-boom) evening portion. While Bret adjourns to his suite to festoon his wig with his formal doo-rag and put on his best bedazzled Affliction™ evening t-shirt, Ambre goes back to her room, where she finds a sulky, pouting Daisy. Daisy wants to know what they, like, did, on like, their date, and Ambre is still pissed about the "u-word" incident so she refuses to answer and they get into another tiff and Ambre calls Daisy a "hateful bitch." Daisy is disgusted with what she repeatedly calls Ambre's "white picket fence" lifestyle, by which she means not having become a stripper in order to support Marilyn Manwich, their terrible goth band, her boob job, and her lip implants. (I think now is as good a time as any to relay the fact that Friend of Felt Up Skinny J., who coined the name "Marilyn Manwich," also came up with Daisy's new nickname, "Horseface Killah." Well-played, Skinny J. Well-played, indeed.)
Ambre, trying and failing not to appear hunchy as she clomps her way to dinner in a very short and extremely unflattering minidress, dazzles Bret with her mom-ish sexuality. He tells her she looks "smokin' hot," which, in the universe of "Rock of Love" is akin to winning the Nobel Peace Prize, but skankier. Bret hands Ambre a box containing another thoughtful gift from yet another generous, gracious p.r firm hawking products for a client. This particular client appears to manufacture hideous charm necklaces. Ambre tries valiantly to believe that Bret actually went out and picked this just for her.
Ambre decides she needs to "turn up the heat," so she tells Bret that she's not wearing any underwear. And then it happens: THE GREATEST MOMENT IN TELEVISION HISTORY. Forget the "Daisy ad," Lucy getting pregnant with Little Ricky, the moonwalk, forget even last week's view of Bret's naked wig, because Bret actually asks if he "can see it." IT! He asks to see IT! ON TV! And Ambre just spreads those legs and lets him take a gander. AT IT! Then he asks to see IT again! And she shows IT to him, again! Let me tell you, we had to rewind that scene about ten times. I may never recover. I mean it. Anybody can see The Vagina Monologues, but "Rock of Love" goes one better and gives you The Vagina Dialogues. I wonder if IT has a wee white picket fence for a festive and ironic touch...
They go up to Bret's suite and totally do it.
The next morning Ambre has her walk of shame back to her room. Daisy is getting ready for her date with Bret and acting like a baby. What a shock!
Daisy and Bret go on their date, and this time it's a fishing trip on a big boat. Everything is going pretty well--they re-enact the "I'm the king of the world!" scene from Titanic at the front of the boat (I wish I was kidding)--and then suddenly it all goes awry. Daisy's equilibrium, which is no doubt already under duress from the unnatural extra ballast of those fake boobs, gets disturbed, and she turns green and feels pukey. And then pukes. Bret calls off the fishing expedition and turns the boat around. You can tell he feels extra-specially chivalrous for giving up his fishin' time for a chick. He rubs ice on her belly and for some reason this makes me want to hurl. When they get back to dry land they make out. I'm guessing that with all his years on the road Bret has developed quite a refined palate and can tell a lot about a girl from the way her puke tastes in his mouth: "Hmmm...it's piquant, but not overbearing. The chunks are a little on the mealy side, but the pear overtones and faint oakiness provide a nice mellow contrast. This one might be a keeper."
They go back to the hotel for dinner and Bret gives Daisy the identical horrible necklace that he gave Ambre. They talk about Daisy having a lot of love, and diseases, to give Bret, and that she's not from that "white picket fence" background that she won't shut up about. They make out for a bit and blibberty blahberty for a while and then make out some more.
They go up to Bret's suite and totally do it.
The next morning Daisy has her walk of shame back to her room. Where Ambre is sitting around doing nothing. The world of this show is so bizarre! They have both had sex with the same dude in the past 48 hours and have to sleep in the same tiny room in Mexico and make small talk with each other! Needless to say, it's a bit awkward.
Bret has a lot of thoughts to think, and so we must endure a montage of him walking on the beach while one of the incredibly terrible songs from his horrible new album plays horrifically in the background. What a conundrum! On the one hand, Daisy is young, "hot," and embraces his celebrated and hilariously overstated "rock-n-roll lifestyle," ie, she's a skank. On the other hand, Ambre is within a decade of his age, stable, determined, and showed IT to him on national television.
Finally it is elimination time. Bret shows up wearing his formal wig, evening bandanna, and a sharkskin silver suit which is ne flatter pas to his groinal region. He goes into all the usual pros and cons of each girl--he and Daisy have an "intense physical connection" and she's a rocker and blah blah blah, while Ambre is smart and beautiful, but perhaps not rock-n-roll enough to handle bagging up the leftover fruit trays after an evening of playing "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" for the 9,000,000th time at the pre-game show for the Cedar Rapids Kernels baseball team. Bret is looking not just for his Rock of Lust, or his Rock of Like, but his Rock of Love. Also, perhaps, his Rock of Cocaine.
The whole time he's gibberty gabbertying about this crap, Daisy and Ambre are convulsing, pouring sweat, and truly appear on the verge of fainting. They are either really nervous or they are suffering from a particularly virulent strain of Montezuma's Revenge. Either way, they are not exactly taking me to Erection Cove, let me tell you. But then, I'm not Bret Michaels.
He calls down Daisy. Is she the "winner"? Does she get to be his fake girlfriend? Is Horseface Killah his Rock of Love? NO! It's a classic fake-out! Her tour ends here. Daisy, and the world, is in total shock. I don't think her brain stem can handle this much stimuli. Bret interviews that as much as he cares for her, Bret worries that Daisy needs him more than she wants him. Which means that Heather's devious plan (to plant the seed of doubt in Bret's mind that Daisy was mainly looking for a sugar-daddy to cough up major cash to pay off her debts) totally worked! I consider this not just a failure for Daisy but a huge triumph for Heather and her evil stripper schemes! Huzzah!
So, in a move carefully calculated by his ever-dwindling "people" to increase sales of his new cd in the highly coveted 39-54 year-old suburban haus frau market, Bret has crowned Ambre his Rock of Lust, Like, And Love.
Normally I'd be all sad and shit, but not this time! No, the promise of seeing Heather grab Daisy's weave off its tracks and pounding her to pulp has me giddy as a school girl in a short, slutty uniform. Yippee! It will not be until the reunion show is over that my whole world will crumble and I'll have to take to my bed. But until then, it ain't nothin' but a good time!