I was alarmed when I turned on the TV. There appeared to be two new houseguests, in businesswear, participating in a challenge involving 100,000 red, white and blue balloons. Was this a new set of twins? Why was “Celebrate” playing? Worse, Julie Chen had been replaced by Dan Rather, who was rambling incoherently about The Long Way to Tipperary (Dan has trouble keeping abreast of the century lately). I was terribly relieved when I realized I was simply watching the Democratic Convention. Relieved, then irritated. It was ten minutes past 8:00!
Why was this timid little variety show, albeit one dealing with the selection of America’s next CEO, interrupting my crap reality viewing pleasure? What kind of country is this?! Incensed, I chucked broken chads and Pirate Booty at the screen until CBS came to its senses (er, ratings?) and restored our normal, as-God-intended it, programming and Julie Chen, sausage-wrapped in some mint green, off-the-shoulder top straight from K-Mart’s Jennifer Beale Collection circa 1981, commenced the Recap: Scooter and Jizz make Nancy Drew cry, Jizz spews chunks before the challenge as an expression of his love for Holly (who makes the rest of us nauseous, too), Adria’s tearful speech about the Four Hors d’oeuvres of the Apocalypse squashing everyone else like roaches. Due to Reverse Edit Theory 101, we now know Adria ain’t going nowhere, and the Hellstrom Chronicles begin.
First, we hear a series of deeply theological discussions about the Fifteenth Houseguest: God. Marvin wonders if God watches Big Brother. (God: Are you kidding? I spend all day watching an entire sniveling planet and you think I’m going to tune in for more pissing and moaning in my off-hours?). Jeez is convinced God does not, in fact, approve of Big Brother, not even when Jason was on. Adria, who had lunch with God last week and feels He wants her to identify, and support, the “righteous” in the house, spends a lot of time reading Bible passages and interpreting them to mean God does not want her evicted. She prosthlyatizes to CB, among others, and weeps copiously. A. is as annoying as Holly at this point.
Turning to matters of the flesh, Scooter, Drool and Suckupalong Cassidy spend a lot of time watching Base and Bollywood make out. This both excites and infuriates the boys – Holly is, after all, a girl! A girl who is not making out with any of them! And Jizz spends more time with her than the Four H Club! Mischaracterizing homoerotic envy as strategy, Scooter launches a plan to evict Helium and thusly rope Adria into the Horsepuckies’ corral of sycophants, despite (actually, because of) the fact that this will deprive Jeepers of his squeaky bedtime toy. We head inexorably to the vote and termination sequence via Diary Room soliloquies that reveal absolutely nothing we did not know: Diane feels attacked by Holly (in a bad way), Jib thinks Holly’s a Cutie Pie and feels attacked by Holly (in a really like totally booty-licious way), and Karen thinks Holly needs to be liked too much. Karen also likens Holly to heroin, which immediately shreds the “chic” image heroin and Kate Moss have so carefully cultivated over the past ten years.
Julie asks the tough questions, the questions that need to be answered: Who would play Cowboy in the Big Brother Movie? After checking with Scud, Jeez and Drool, CB immediately comes to his very own conclusion: Brad Pitt. The boys of Big Bother spend more time talking about Brad Pitt than Jennifer Aniston’s hairstylist. Brad is probably jabbing knitting needles in his ears as we speak. Helium decides on a Barbie theme for the eviction ceremony and wears a big pink ribbon around her neck, offsetting an outfit made out of the Summer Pastels collection from Charmin Bathroom Tissue. Holly gives Jeez a matching pink cap and her itty bitty Hello Kitty (that was not code for anything dirty, by the way); it is clear Holly knows which way the balls are bouncing. She and A. make truly boring autowitter nominee speeches which I can’t remember at all, except I liked the bottles on the Ikea dresser behind A’s head. Making a long, ad-ridden story short, Holly is evicted by a vote of Everyone Except Jizz.
She teeters out to meet Julie and reviews the sayonara clips. About three guests call her “unique,” which is a word I use to describe people I cannot find nice things to say about, too. Diane makes my evening by saying, simply: “Thank God (see? there’s that God again!) and good riddance!” Holly says Diane has ugly insides. Holly’s own insides are minty fresh and just plain gorgeous, just ask Jeez (actually, no. He can’t tell you. He never got to that special level of intimacy a la David and Amanda, with the blue lights and the Target comforter and the cameras whirring erotically in the background). Julie reveals the Adria/Natalia Patty Duke Show twist. Other than a jaw drop, Holly’s face is completely motionless. If you worked for Loony Toons, here’s a partial list of sound effects you might use to demonstrate Holly trying to grasp the Twins Twist:
A lighter striking, striking, but never lighting A stereo needle scratching a record to a halt Crickets
Finally, Julie explains that A and N are twins. “They look alike, they walk alike, sometimes they even talk alike…you could lose your mind!” (Okay, if you don’t remember television’s best and brightest identical cousins and I’m totally dating myself, while Cathy adores a minuet, the Ballet Russe, and crepe suzette, our Patty loves to rock and roll-- a hot dog makes her lose control (again, probably not code for anything dirty) -- what a wild duet!). “Identical twins,” intones Julie. “And they look exactly alike!” Holly cries, as light, however dimly, dawns. So we’ve reached the end of the episode, and there’s good news and bad: The good news is, there does not appear to be a Holly Twin lurking out there. “Two Hollies! Are you kidding!” Holly squeals. America heaves a collective sigh of relief (or perhaps simply heaves, collectively). The bad news is, Holly’s family is as eerily absent as all the other families have been at eviction time this season, and I have a nasty feeling we may have to see her, and worse, hear her, again before the summer’s through.