Post by Summer St Clair on Jun 22, 2014 16:07:21 GMT -5
The DVR is on, we have pressed play, and now it is time for...
Please excuse us while we fast forward through all of this first half. Trust us, you are missing nothing. All it consists of is our star, Summer St Clair, shopping, getting Starbucks, going to the gym and showing off her chihuahua, Babycakes, in a variety of dumb outfits; a typical example of the worst in this sort of celebrity reality shows. So let us jump to around the middle of the episode, where the portion relevant to our interests lies. We will not subject you to too much of this production, we promise; just enough to hear what Miss St Clair has to say vis-a-vis her debut at Ladies All-Star Wrestling. Brace yourselves, here we go!
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The scene takes place in a ridiculously large living room, including what appears to be a pool directly behind Summer's head, as well as some steps to the far left, which hint at a second level. Dominating the centre of the frame is our starlet herself, in all her primped-up, costumed-chihuahua-carrying Beverly Hills blondeness. As the scene opens, she lets out a piercing shriek:
'BAMMMMBBBBBIIIIIII!!!!'
From off-camera, another blonde roughly Summer's age runs in. She is wearing a dark suit, but looks the furthest thing from authoritative or even particularly smart, as she totters over in her heels and looks down at the celebrity with a worried expression:
'Yes, Summer?'
'Where is Babycakes's afternoon snack? I asked you for it, like, a whole *bleep*ing minute ago!'
(Yes, people, they censored swears - this is network television!)
'Uh, sorry, Summer...I was gonna get it, but then Brad said he wanted to...'
'I don't give a *bleep!* what Brad said!', the Beverly Hills blonde explodes. 'My baby's hungry!'
'O-OK, Summer', Bambi gulps, quickly tottering off-screen again. As she leaves, Summer picks her dog up, bringing him to eye level as she coos:
'That's right...Babycakes is hungwy, isn't he? Mommy's big boy is hungwy! Isn't he?'
Lest this moment of genuine tenderness lead you to think Summer St Clair is in any way a good person, please bear in mind that, as he gets coddled and cuddled, Babycakes is wearing a garish hot-pink tutu and a tiny headband with antennae sticking out of it. Yup. Now you are feeling sorry for him, aren't you?
Anyway, on with the show. As Bambi goes off to fetch the pooch's snack, his owner turns to someone off-camera and asks:
'We're talking about the wrestling thing or whatever, right?'
After what one assumes is an affirmative reply, the socialite once again turns to face the frame directly, her green eyes burning a contemptuous hole through the lens. Slowly and condescendingly, as if addressing a class of grade-schoolers, she begins to explain:
'So like, I don't know if you heard or whatever, but I'm like, a wrestler now? Yeah. For this place called Ladies' All-Star Wrestling or whatever? It's, like, in the middle of *bleep*ing nowhere, in like Mississipi or whatever. I totally wanted to go to like this place in Malibu, because duh! But the woman there was a total PMSing*bleep*. Telling me they didn't hire dumb-ass bimbos or whatever! Does-she-know-who-I-am?
Easy, Summer. Getting a little high-pitched there, hon. Deep breaths.
'So yeah, now I have to go live in like the country! I bet they don't even have a Roberto Cavalli store there! And the girl they want me to, like, wrestle? Ell-oh-ell! Are they, like, serious right now? Ash Scion? Is that even, like, a real name?'
Summer pauses for a catty little mean-girl giggle, then continues:
'Honey, seriously. Don't even bother showing up on Sunday. Literally, like, no one wants to see you. I don't want to see you. I don't want your ugly face on my show, ew! Like, go get a makeover and stuff, and then maybe I'll let you be in like the background for a scene or whatever. Until then, just stay the *bleep* away from me, 'k? I don't wanna catch the uglies!'
The blonde involuntarily - or maybe not - shudders before proceeding:
'So yeah, sweetheart. You better just, like, stay at home or wherever it is you poor people live, in like the projects or whatever. That way, you don't embarrass yourself when I beat you, you don't embarrass me with your ugly face on my show, and you give those losers more time to look at me. 'Cause face it, honey, that's all they care about. They don't give a *bleep* about you; they just wanna pretend like they can get in my pants or whatever. So yeah. Don't show up. And stuff. Whatever.'
By the end of her address, Summer has clearly lost interest, and is content to simply make wavy hand motions at the camera. Instead, she has once again focused her attention on something out of frame, and after a moment we see what it is, as Bambi reappears carrying a plate of what looks like caviar. She hands it to the model, who briefly looks up before beaming - but not at her.
'Ooooh, look, here's Babycakes's nice tasty snack! Yum yum yummy! Open up, baby!'
As the Beverly Hills socialite feeds her dog the kind of treat ninety percent of us wish we could afford, the broadcast cuts to commercial - and our reasons for watching it mercifully run out. We shall not, therefore, subject you to another minute of it. Please excuse us while we press 'Stop'.
--End transmission--
STEPPING OUT WITH SUMMER!
...the exciting first episode!Please excuse us while we fast forward through all of this first half. Trust us, you are missing nothing. All it consists of is our star, Summer St Clair, shopping, getting Starbucks, going to the gym and showing off her chihuahua, Babycakes, in a variety of dumb outfits; a typical example of the worst in this sort of celebrity reality shows. So let us jump to around the middle of the episode, where the portion relevant to our interests lies. We will not subject you to too much of this production, we promise; just enough to hear what Miss St Clair has to say vis-a-vis her debut at Ladies All-Star Wrestling. Brace yourselves, here we go!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The scene takes place in a ridiculously large living room, including what appears to be a pool directly behind Summer's head, as well as some steps to the far left, which hint at a second level. Dominating the centre of the frame is our starlet herself, in all her primped-up, costumed-chihuahua-carrying Beverly Hills blondeness. As the scene opens, she lets out a piercing shriek:
'BAMMMMBBBBBIIIIIII!!!!'
From off-camera, another blonde roughly Summer's age runs in. She is wearing a dark suit, but looks the furthest thing from authoritative or even particularly smart, as she totters over in her heels and looks down at the celebrity with a worried expression:
'Yes, Summer?'
'Where is Babycakes's afternoon snack? I asked you for it, like, a whole *bleep*ing minute ago!'
(Yes, people, they censored swears - this is network television!)
'Uh, sorry, Summer...I was gonna get it, but then Brad said he wanted to...'
'I don't give a *bleep!* what Brad said!', the Beverly Hills blonde explodes. 'My baby's hungry!'
'O-OK, Summer', Bambi gulps, quickly tottering off-screen again. As she leaves, Summer picks her dog up, bringing him to eye level as she coos:
'That's right...Babycakes is hungwy, isn't he? Mommy's big boy is hungwy! Isn't he?'
Lest this moment of genuine tenderness lead you to think Summer St Clair is in any way a good person, please bear in mind that, as he gets coddled and cuddled, Babycakes is wearing a garish hot-pink tutu and a tiny headband with antennae sticking out of it. Yup. Now you are feeling sorry for him, aren't you?
Anyway, on with the show. As Bambi goes off to fetch the pooch's snack, his owner turns to someone off-camera and asks:
'We're talking about the wrestling thing or whatever, right?'
After what one assumes is an affirmative reply, the socialite once again turns to face the frame directly, her green eyes burning a contemptuous hole through the lens. Slowly and condescendingly, as if addressing a class of grade-schoolers, she begins to explain:
'So like, I don't know if you heard or whatever, but I'm like, a wrestler now? Yeah. For this place called Ladies' All-Star Wrestling or whatever? It's, like, in the middle of *bleep*ing nowhere, in like Mississipi or whatever. I totally wanted to go to like this place in Malibu, because duh! But the woman there was a total PMSing*bleep*. Telling me they didn't hire dumb-ass bimbos or whatever! Does-she-know-who-I-am?
Easy, Summer. Getting a little high-pitched there, hon. Deep breaths.
'So yeah, now I have to go live in like the country! I bet they don't even have a Roberto Cavalli store there! And the girl they want me to, like, wrestle? Ell-oh-ell! Are they, like, serious right now? Ash Scion? Is that even, like, a real name?'
Summer pauses for a catty little mean-girl giggle, then continues:
'Honey, seriously. Don't even bother showing up on Sunday. Literally, like, no one wants to see you. I don't want to see you. I don't want your ugly face on my show, ew! Like, go get a makeover and stuff, and then maybe I'll let you be in like the background for a scene or whatever. Until then, just stay the *bleep* away from me, 'k? I don't wanna catch the uglies!'
The blonde involuntarily - or maybe not - shudders before proceeding:
'So yeah, sweetheart. You better just, like, stay at home or wherever it is you poor people live, in like the projects or whatever. That way, you don't embarrass yourself when I beat you, you don't embarrass me with your ugly face on my show, and you give those losers more time to look at me. 'Cause face it, honey, that's all they care about. They don't give a *bleep* about you; they just wanna pretend like they can get in my pants or whatever. So yeah. Don't show up. And stuff. Whatever.'
By the end of her address, Summer has clearly lost interest, and is content to simply make wavy hand motions at the camera. Instead, she has once again focused her attention on something out of frame, and after a moment we see what it is, as Bambi reappears carrying a plate of what looks like caviar. She hands it to the model, who briefly looks up before beaming - but not at her.
'Ooooh, look, here's Babycakes's nice tasty snack! Yum yum yummy! Open up, baby!'
As the Beverly Hills socialite feeds her dog the kind of treat ninety percent of us wish we could afford, the broadcast cuts to commercial - and our reasons for watching it mercifully run out. We shall not, therefore, subject you to another minute of it. Please excuse us while we press 'Stop'.
--End transmission--