The Joe Schmo Show 2 - Episode 5 Summary

'Too Hot For TV' By Tiger Lily

Note: Some parts of this summary may seem stretched and drawn-out, as if they are actually just filler. This is because they are, in fact, just filler. Since half of tonight’s content is going to need to be **censored** in order to adhere to this website's PG-13 policy, and since I wanted you all to have a nice, long summary to waste your time reading, I have prolonged many of the scenes... mainly for my own warped amusement. I hope they “amuse” you as much as they do me. Which is unlikely.

The **uncensored** version of tonight’s events will be included in the Special Edition, Unrated, “Too Hot for the Website” Special-Release Episode Summary, with never-before-seen recrap, and more sarcastic commentary than you’ve ever dreamed of reading. Just $199.95, plus $14.17 shipping & handling (release date pending). Send credit card number, check or money order to the address I am telepathetically transmitting to you right now. Must be 18 to order.

Now... It’s Schmo Time! Like you’ve never heard that joke before.

Director: Okay, people! Thanks for coming to this morning’s super-fun-fantastic trailer orgy, where we all sit around and pretend like we know what we’re doing. So, um... yeah. Everyone’s doing great as usual, even though it seems you dimwits weren’t good enough actors to keep Ingrid fooled... no problem, though, because she’s in on the joke now, and as it turns out... she’s as good an actress as any of you clowns. So... no harm done. Plus, we found a new dupe who’s slightly less... what’s the word I’m looking for? Astute? Yes (thank you, Frank). Someone slightly less astute to replace her. So... it’s all good people, it’s all good. Just keep doing... whatever it is you’ve been doing. Okay! Take five, everybody.

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The first activity of the day, Ralph -aka, over-the-top host with horrible facial hair (I liked him better in the bumblebee suit)- tells us as the show opens, will be to stab their new friends squarely in the back.

Ralph: Women, you are going to write down the name of the person you think is least compatible with the Bachelor (what’s that, Frank? Oh, his name is Austin? Thank you. I knew he must be an important enough character to have a name; it’s just that I really haven’t cared enough to pay attention)... Austin. Men, you do the same with the person you think is the most gay I mean, least compatible with the Bachelorette (Piper? Thanks. It’s so hard to remember the names of these unimportant characters that never do anything)... Piper. Okay... GO!

While Ralph is off tallying the votes (there are only seven of them; you wouldn’t think it would take all that long, but you have to make sure these things are done properly. I mean, we can’t have any “hanging chad” controversies happening here), Tim has a bit of fun figuring out which reality show stereotype Eleanor is supposed to be. Oh wait, did I say fun? I meant excruciating pain. Seriously, though, she reminds me of that pigeon on "Animaniacs" who takes offense to everything the other pigeon says. You know, the Goodfeathers. She’s actually pretty good at it.

Tim (aka Joe Schmo): Hey Eleanor! You know whose voice yours sounds like? That band camp girl... you know, from the American Pie movies. Isn’t that funny?

Eleanor: <NYC crime-family accent> What’re you sayin’? Are you saying that I’m like, a band geek or somethin’? Is that what you’re sayin’? You think I’m some kind of red-headed, flute-playing dork? Is that what you’re sayin’? </accent>

Tim: Oh, crap. No! That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t think you’re a dork! I just meant... no, please don’t... Eleanor, please don’t start crying again. I didn’t mean it. Please... no, that was a compliment, dammit! It’s like saying you sound like my Aunt Eileen. I didn’t mean anything by it. Eleanor, please... I always thought Michelle was funny in the movies! Hey, at least I didn’t compare you to Stifler... Oh no, Eleanor... please...(Oh god, kill me now)... I mean, please stop crying ...dammit. *hands her a tissue*

Eleanor: <NYC-CF accent> Wait, what was that? So now, what? I sound like your freakin’ Aunt Edna? What’re you sayin’? That I remind you of your fat, old-maid, trailer-trash aunt? Huh? You sayin’ I live alone with fifty-seven cats, and have orange, crushed-velvet furniture and avocado green shag carpet? Is that what you’re sayin’? </accent>

Tim: No! I... maybe I should just staple my mouth shut.

Eleanor: That’s it. I’ll kick your ass! *lunges for Tim in a cloud of fury*

The Godpigeon (scratching his chin feathers): Boys, boys! I ...oh never mind. This analogy was getting kinda old anyway.

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