Thursday, October 18, 2012

Up Dawson's Creek

Chantilly lace and a dimpled face. A hero is nothing if not dressed for the elements... and for the ladies. Whether astride a horse in a tasseled bolero jacket or cloaked in a velvet cape with an eye patch and an Andalusian flat-brimmed hat, a gussied up dandy is always the talk of the town. A slow saunter through the plaza and a "Howdy do?" can set loins aflame. A peer through a hood. A slow drag of a zipper. Flash of the pearly whites. Whisper, titter, giggle, flush. Whether a tempest blows or a rainstorm falls, our gallant Sir Galahad is always smartly attired. Gabardine, neoprene, silky sheen, bombazine. Brrr, suddenly I'm cold and damp. Here you are milady, a cloudy grey windbreaker to warm your skins, your heart, your soul. Let's recap, shall we?

We continue our tawdry Filipino tale soaked and shivering. The sky continues to cry as flesh begins to mold and pucker. The Messing (Matsing) tribe is down to two. Two wrinkly crinkly waterlogged misfits. Dr. Denise and Malcolm huddle together under the leaky thatch roof and wait. And wonder. And wait some more. Another sleepless night with teeth clacking gives way to the dawn and the flies. The type of flies that circle rotting corpses. Flies like turkey vultures. Patient yet pesky. Malcolm swats fruitlessly at the death buzzes while Denise flops on her back in the mud. Staring into the dribbling clouds she finally speaks, "I think we'll be split up. One of us on each tribe." Malcolm nods solemnly and lies fetal, still.

But don't you count them out just yet. Oh, don't you dare! Their skin may be grey and pasty, but this isn't a twosome that gives up. If they get separated, it's a fact of life that they'll have to deal with and rise above. Their best bet is to be as prepared as possible and ransack the camp for the Hidden Immunity Idol before they're picked up and relocated to a Dimples-sanctioned area. Denise and Malcolm quickly recover the clue and study it closely. Something in it makes them think of rice. I'm not sure what, but rice it is. So, Malcolm dives headfirst into the rice basket while Denise kicks the lid around with her foot. It has to be here somewhere! They dig and claw at everything within arm's reach only to come up empty handed. Malcolm mumbles, "I feel like a f*cking idiot."

They stand in stony silence for a moment. Eyes flitting this way and that. Malcolm's eyes keep focusing and refocusing on the rice lid. Or was it the camera? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? Who can say? It doesn't matter really. All that matters is that Malcolm knocks that rice lid bitch over and gets the clue. The music swells merrily as the two hug and embrace. They do a little finger tickle dance and you know that Denise is genuinely happy for Malcolm. Happy yet worried of what is to come if they are indeed split up.

And this brings us to a Reward Challenge. A what? A Reward Challenge! Remember those things from yesteryear back from before we were forced to visit Rhode Island (Redemption Island) on a regular basis? Well, it's back. But first, drop your buffs. *takes off buff and stands naked* Oh, wait, I don't think Dimples was talking to me. Whoopsie! *wriggles buff back on* Denise and Malcolm, drop your buffs.

Dimples lobs a burlap sack to the last two Messings. Reach in and get your new buffs. Malcolm reaches in first, then asks Denise if she would prefer to have the buff he has pulled out. Aww, such a gentleman! Denise smiles and shakes her head. They'll stick with the buffs they've chosen. OK, let's see 'em. Malcolm, you will now join Fandango (Tandang).

Denise, welcome to KrabKlaw (Kalabaw).

Now that everyone has found a new home, let's get to this Reward Challenge. Today you'll be playing for a breakfast fit for a Dowager Countess. Crumpets, scones, cookies, biscuits, tea, dollops of sugar. For today's challenge, you will square off one on one with each person holding an Idol on a dinner plate. The first person to knock the Idol off of the others plate, wins. Survivors ready, go!

First up is the new kid, Malcolm, versus Jeff Kent. Malcolm squats and swats while Jeff Kent slides into home plate and nabs a run. 1-0 KrabKlaw.

Next up is fairy sprite Pixie (Dana) versus the towering onyx statue we call Artis. Pixie flutters hither and thither. Bobbing and weaving. Float like a butter-Pixie, sting like a bee! *plop* Artis wins. We are now tied.

The challenge continues with steady panther Blair (Lisa) getting side swiped by a mysterious stranger named Katie. Melty (Michael) then takes down Scurvy (Jonathan). Denise nabs an impressive win against RC while Jell-O Pop (Carter) tries, and fails, to do that "There's something on your shirt... bloop!" deflection with Prickly Pete.

The score is all tied up when we arrive at the Battle Of Dawson's Creek. It is Dawson versus Shakira (Abi-Maria). A less than civil war, I'll have you know.  Eyes narrow and hips swivel in preparation. Shakira crouches and dares her opponent with her dulce de leche eyes. She spits insults like pine nuts when, out of nowhere, Dawson grabs her by the head and yanks her hair. Oh. Hell. No. A hip to the chin and you're going down Dawson! *swat swat, boom boom* Shakira scores for Fandango. Don't mess with Shaki, bitches. You will always lose.

After a few more rounds and Shakira's lingering words of "Don't play like a bitch!" ringing in our ears, it comes down to where we began: Malcolm v. Jeff Kent. Malcolm needs this win. He knows it, I know it, and you know it. And since we all know it and his hair is cascading and billowing, let's just give it to him. FANDANGO WINS REWARD!!!

Back at Camp Fandango, with a win finally under his belt, Malcolm is beaming and giggly. Everything is going his way now. It has stopped raining, he has an Idol, he's munching on a crumpet... our boy has his swag back! The tribe toasts each other with fistfuls of cookies and whoops the afternoon away. Everything is merry and bright, but Malcolm knows that he still needs to look for a crack to wedge himself into. *raises eyebrow* Umm.

While Malcolm goes in search of that crack, Blair is giggly and googly-eyed over the new tribe addition. He's smart, he's good looking, he's delightful. I get it, Blair. Believe me, I get it. Turn on that Warner charm! Shakira, too, is sparkly and coquettish. Her hip scarf jingle jangles as she shoves a muffin into Malcolm's mouth and coos, "Oh, enjoy it!" *raises eyebrow again*

But in a corner, a dark and worrisome corner of the shelter, stares black eyes. It is RC and she is not as thrilled as everyone else is with the strapping lad currently licking crumbs off his fingers. She watches closely as Malcolm and Prickly Pete bond over pecs and jock straps and boy things. It is over for her now. It is over and now all there is left to do is spin and twirl in the waves. Spin, twirl, dive, kick and tell us stories about how she was bullied in school. Wait, what? Esther Williams here was bullied which naturally calls for a frivolous and weird dance with the waves. *shrugs shoulders* Whatever floats your leopard print.

The ocean is a mysterious force though. Womanly and nourishing. Life giving and spontaneous. Something happens to RC out in that water. Something that tells her to rub her woman parts all over Malcolm. Was it Venus whispering to her from her half shell? Did she mutter truths through the foam? "Pssst, RC, go rub your boobs on Malcolm." Waiting for the perfect moment to follow Venus' instructions, RC juts out her chest and bides her time. It doesn't take long for her to find her "in" though because the new Prince Of Fandango has just made a fire in 2.5 seconds. Time to celebrate with a booby hug. RC grabs Malcolm from behind his shoulders and pulls him tight. The lilting voice of the goddess of the sea echos in her ears... Rub your boobs... rub your boobs. Not one to ignore a deity, RC grabs Malcolm by the face and motorboats him within an inch of his life. Amen.

While everything is titillating and kind of hot over at Fandango, the mood on KrabKlaw is anything but sexy. There is an eerie silence that we are not used to. What is it? The rain is still falling, but something, something, is missing. The fluttering! The gentle fluttering of fairy wings. Even in the rain, Pixie flutters. Only, now, she's all wilty and her wings look a little bit like dried up cricket legs. Even her saucer eyes are shrunken and sad. Her spiky elfin hair is droopy and slouched. Pixie tries to put on a brave face, but she can't shake the cold. Plus, she hasn't seen a leprechaun in like 2 weeks (leprechauns are known moisture haters - unless the moisture is whiskey) and do you have any idea what rain does to pixie dust? It cakes and it loses its sparkle.

Back home Pixie is a tough bitch. She races cars, builds motorcycles, and coaches a roller derby team on the weekends, but out here in the Filipino rain... she is but a drowned lightning bug. The pain grows sharper in her abdomen as the lining of her stomach begins to creep up her throat. Not wanting the tribe to see her splash her insides all over the place, Pixie runs into a cave and, sadly, our blonde imp pukes her guts out.

(You only need to watch the first 20 seconds to get the vibe)

And this is when the gloom and doom starts. The music, right out of a sweeping musical set in 19th century France. I'm not kidding. If you have the time to rewatch Pixie's demise, you will hear the opening of 'Look Down' from Les Miserables. Which is not really a good thing. It is foreboding and macabre. No harps or plucky melodies here. Nothing at all befitting a fairy.

But like any good tragedy, we need a hero. We need a Bonnie Tyler hero to sweep in and save us from ourselves, save us from the darkness. Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy...

Enter Dimples. Hello there sir. *blushes and giggles* Yes, we have a dying Pixie, but aren't you looking smart today in your little windbreaker? Is that a poly-vinyl blend? I mean, yeah she's in bad shape, Dimples. Go get Ramona. You all remember Ramona, don't you? The Kiwi medic who sends everyone to the morgue. Only, Ramona isn't here today. Today we get Doogie. Doogie Howser, M.D.

Doogie orders Pixie to lie on her back while he pokes around her "tummy". Yup, that's a medical term - tummy. He squeezes her big toe and asks, "Does this hurt?" Pixie replies, "The pain is in my stomach." Doogie scratches his head and pauses to think. He then pinches Pixie's nose and asks, "How does that feel?" Pixie replies, "Stop it!" and then she swats his hand away. Doogie slowly rises to stand, "It is just as I suspected. She has a tummy ache. It probably won't kill her in the next 12 hours." And there you have it.

Now, it's up to Pixie to decide if she wants to stay in the game. Since that crackerjack doctor said she might live until sundown, Dimples says to Pixie, "It's on you. What do you want to do?" Pixie's lower lip starts to tremble as she covers her eyes and rolls over. Through tears, she mutters that she can't stay. She can't be out there sick anymore. *wipes eyes and sniffles* Dimples then leans over and with crouched awesomeness begins a slow unzipping (It reminds me of that book House Of Leaves - "the longest unzipping of my life.") where he gallantly whips off his windbreaker and places it gently over a shivering Pixie. *fans self* He then leans over and whispers in her ear, "The pain is going to go away. Let's finish this adventure on your terms, ok?" *stares into the distance* I'm sorry, I know Pixie is like dying and whatnot, but was that incredibly hot or what?!

And then Pixie's tribe descended on her like a tribe of cannibals. Well, they did lose the Reward Challenge after all. They were hungry! Rest in peace, Pixie. You will be missed.

And this brings us to the big Immunity Challenge. Come on in guys! For today's challenge you will race through a series of obstacles to untie a series of knots that will release a drawbridge. Once you've released your drawbridge, one person will chop a rope to release bamboo puzzle pieces with letters on them. Two puzzle solvers will then use those letters to solve a phrase. Since Fandango has one extra person, Shakira will sit out. Survivors ready, go!

As the challenge begins, the tribes burst forth and down the slide. Jell-O Pop and Melty zip and fly from slide to creek. He may be a quiet chain smoking beret wearing beatnik poet, but that Jell-O Pop is also springy and quick like a gazelle. Katie, however, is not. Athletic looking on the outside, I think she might be made of molasses on the inside because those KrabKlaws, Scurvy and Jeff Kent, literally have to carry her up a tiny ant hill while the Fandangos pull into a lead. Jell-O Pop is left standing all by himself on a platform waiting for the rest of his tribe to show up. Which, is as good a time as any to pen to a new poem...

My pants are red
My eyes are blue
This stranger, Katie
Is slow like glue.

Hey, I never said he was a good poet. He's no Hoops (Semhar).

Once that carcass Katie is finally over the ant hill, the tribes flit across the nets and into their giant drawbridge walls. RC and Artis work on the ropes for Fandango while Jell-O Pop and Denise get untying for KrabKlaw. Denise proves to be a valuable new member to KrabKlaw as she and Jell-O Pop quickly finish their top ropes before Fandango and manage to make up some lost time from that maple syrup person Katie.

The lead is short and fleeting as the Fandangos tear through their wall and Prince Malcolm gets to work chopping his rope. He unleashes his puzzle pieces just as KrabKlaw drops their bridge. Jeff Kent makes a couple of swats at his rope but is plum tuckered out. Scurvy takes over and quickly annihilates it.

We now have Prickly Pete and Blair at the puzzle for Fandango and Dawson and Scurvy at the puzzle for KrabKlaw. The Fandangos work in tandem, a joint venture. You give a little, I give a little. But over on KrabKlaw, it is a different story. Scurvy places the puzzle pieces down and then, when his back is turned, Dawson rescrambles them again! And in what is one of those nail biting finishes where the music pumps and your heart begins to race... FANDANGO WINS IMMUNITY!!!

With the challenge done and a fancy new loss hanging heavy over their camp, the KrabKlaws are in a sullen mood. Katie quickly apologizes to everyone and takes the blame before retreating to the shelter where she can sniffle quietly to herself. Well, at least she's not full of lies and chocolate chips like Cookie (Angie) was. At least she knows she sucks horribly. I guess that's something. Dawson, too, knows Katie sucks, but they're in that Vagina Alliance together and Dawson is 100% certain that Katie is safe this week. Plus, Denise is new. She's too new. And new equals bad to Dawson.

So while Dawson is busy wiping her hands clean of having to worry about anyone but Denise going home tonight, Denise has stolen away with Jeff Kent to make her pitch. She tells Jeff Kent plainly that she didn't come out here to see Dimples at Tribal every night. Jeff Kent raises an eyebrow in a pleasant surprise. The scene goes quiet as Jeff Kent pauses, listens, makes the wind up and lets his ball go... "So, you want to be with us? You'll be the fourth." And speaking of four, this calls for another four-fingered handshake. Welcome aboard Denise!

Jeff Kent rounds the bases and heads back home to report this new development to his Manly Men Alliance. With Jell-O Pop and Scurvy huddled together, Jeff Kent tells them he has just recruited Denise to the team. The big hairy question now is who to send home: Katie or Dawson? Scurvy is leaning towards Dawson, but Jell-O Pop disagrees. He sits under a tree wearing a corduroy blazer with suede patches on the elbows and says one word. One simple word. "Katie." And then he disappeared into a cloud of cigarette smoke and incense.

With nothing decided and the question still remaining, the KrabKlaws take an afternoon siesta underneath the palm fronds and chicken wire. When all of a sudden, through the peaceful sounds of nature burbling all around them, a voice screeches out something odd. "Maybe I should date an athlete," giggles Dawson. Jeff Kent rubs one finger over his chin and asks, "Well, what do you consider an athlete?" Dawson replies, "Football, basketball, hockey, swimming, diving, gymnastics, curling... anything but stinky baseball. Baseball sucks! A bunch of grown guys standing around. Blech!" *smacks self in head* If you'll remember, gentle readers, Dawson knows Jeff Kent's big bad baseball secret and she was supposed to be keeping it locked up and tucked away until just the perfect moment to use it against him. I guess this is that perfect moment. Only "using it against him" shouldn't be like a boomerang that whips back and smacks you in the face.

And this brings us to Tribal Council. Dimples instructs the neophytes to go ahead and pick out a torch and get some fire. Jell-O Pop stands sulkily next to his torch and simply flicks one of his lit Sobranie's down into the torches mouth. Schwoom! Flames.

Dimples begins by waving a tiny tuft of blonde hair in front of everyone. "Dawson, how does it feel knowing that Pixie is gone?" Dawson replies that Pixie leaving hit them harder than the rain ever could. Jell-O Pop nods to himself, whips out a leather bound journal, and jots down the line for a future poem. Hey, it was a good line and we all know what a crap poet Jell-O Pop is when left to his own devices.

Scurvy agrees that losing Pixie was devastating. He insists that had she stayed, they would have won today. Hearing this, Katie bites her lip and I wondered for a second if she might cry. But she didn't. She called herself an idiot and took all the blame. Hmm. There's something about her weirdo honesty that is refreshing. Dawson is serving up lines about boosting camp morale, Jell-O Pop is stewing silently, and Jeff Kent sits with a furrowed brow rubbing his face nonstop. Yet Katie, she just blurts. There's a nickname in there somewhere... hidden. I'll keep digging and maybe it'll reveal itself.

Dimples then asks Dawson point blank why the tribe should keep her. With a flurry of giggly hands and blushing cheeks, she tells Dimples that she loves getting to visit with him. If only they could steal away and share some quality time together. Back off Dawson! Time to vote.

In a vote that was strange and probably could have been avoided had a certain someone not announced that baseball was the suckiest game ever, Dawson is the 5th person voted out of Survivor Philippines.

Normally, I'd end this here and be on my way, but wait... there's more! With a twinkle in her eye at being a breath away from Dimples, Dawson begins a slow eye seduction. Two glassy orbs undressing Dimples by the firelight. Unbuttoning, unzipping...

... killing with an ice pick and keeping the body in a basement freezer... Gah!

With the memory of being voted out quickly forgotten, Dawson knows what she has to do. She may never get this chance again. She may never be this close, be this near, be this... SMOOCH! Surprised and pregnant now, Dimples gasps quickly and shakes off the lip attack. Dawson, you are completely nuts, but I admire your gumption. You got balls girl. Big swinging balls. But if you put your hands on my Dimples again, that hip punch you got earlier from Shakira will seem like a loving tap.

So, what did you guys think of last night's episode? Will RC motorboat Malcolm away from Prickly Pete? How much longer can Katie possibly last? If you keep Dimples on ice, will he still smell as sweet? Comment it out bitches and have a great day!

Thanks to Rob Beasley for my lovely Survivor photos.