Well, I’m just despondent. What a terrible week for humanity. Since it’s sometimes best just to get bad news out of the way, I’ll just come out and say it: this week, Ivy Winters left us.
It hurts to even type that. I feel like I have a urinary tract infection on my heart.
But we’ll get to that, I guess. Onto the RuCap. We return to the work room after last week’s double non-elimination, no Maybelline mirror missive of hope to greet us. Roxxxy, who narrowly missed being sent home, explains that she had a meltdown because being almost-kicked off the show reminded her of the time her mother left her at a bus stop.
She’s a teary mess. Not unlike I was at the end of this episode, what with my beloved Ivy Winters discarded like a piece of weave on the sidewalk.
“The way I tend to react to rejection is getting very angry,” she says. Myself, I like a hot green tea and some of the teachings of Buddhist monk Thich Nat Hanh. Just kidding! I wig the f–k out. I probably won’t get out of the outfit I was in when Ivy left for a few weeks, at least.
This week’s mini challenge is a little game of “Whatcha Packin?” This involves Ru trotting out two dozen topless numbered beefcakes, who the contestants will ask to remove their pants to try to find the two wearing a matching pair of underpants, not unlike a fleshly version of the game “Memory.”
The men are very handsome and there are a lot of beautiful underpants and a lot of wobbly genital silhouettes. The contestants fan themselves and make funny southern dowager noises, and I watching with the bottom half of my face inside my hoodie.
“The winner of today’s mini challenge is every straight woman and gay man in America,” says Ru, who is right. But we win a lot of things, don’t we? Just another victory for us, women and gays. Sorry. I don’t mean to be cynical. I’m hurting a lot.
Doomed Ivy Winters takes the prize, which is a call home. She uses it to phone her mother, which is sweet. I hope she left out the part about all of the balls we were able to see during the challenge, and the fact that she will soon be cruelly and inexplicably eliminated in a Christ parable on par with Melville’s Billy Budd.
Sorry. I’m going through some things. On to the main challenge! The queens will play perfumiers, conceiving, designing, and packaging their own personal fragrance ad. Interesting!
The girls get to work, and it’s tense. So much so that Alyssa spills a whole bottle of goo on Jinkx and doesn’t notice. She’s now Seattle’s premier Jewish narcoleptic oil-coated mildly irritated drag queen. Roxxy has a pizza on her work station for some reason, which I don’t quite get but fully endorse.
Jinkx continues to win my heart by staging a threesome with two members of the pit crew and calling her scent “Delusion.” Ha ha, that’s good. But, Aubrey O Day, who is wearing ten pounds of fake hair and a shirt with a cutout that shows 3/4ths of her breast globes, says, “Nothing about her felt like a lady.” OK Aubrey O’Day, I will Wikipedia you to see who you are because maybe in your off time, you own a charm school or something.
Ivy Winters was going to call her scent Poison Rosebud, which is a metaphor meaning “tainted anus,” but inexplicably does a 180 and makes it something about New York. This may turn out to be her undoing.
Coco does some weird stuff on the suit that Leah Thompson’s best friend on Caroline in the City occasionally wore to remind us her character was supposed to be a cast member in CATS. Detox’s ad is good because she keeps saying HEROINNNNNE in a sexy Richard Nixon voice. Alyssa has trouble with her line readings and seems distracted, possibly because she finally realized she spilled oil all over Jinkx. The whole time, Aubrey O Day, who I guess is like a pop star entrepreneur or something (?), continues to make faces like Fire Marshall BIll having an orgasm.
This week, Joan Van Ark is with us, which is fun until it isn’t. Everybody kind of gets panned except for Roxxy, Alaska, Jinkx and Detox. I’m happy Jinkx does so well, because I’m worried about her — she revealed she has feelings for Ivy.
At first I’m like, join the club, Jinkx, but I’m worried because Ivy goes home, and because I feel like Jinkx may not be the most emotionally stable person on this show, or hemisphere.
Alaska wins the challenge, though, which is good, because she needed something positive to happen to her. I feel you, Alaska. I’m so sad I may drink NyQuil just not to be awake with my feelings for a little bit.
I can’t go into too much detail here because the pain is too fresh. So I’ll just say: Ivy and Alyssa had to lip-synch for their lives, and because life isn’t fair, Ivy was sent home. Since that moment, I’ve been on the same spot on my couch, counting ceiling tiles and listening to Moonlight Sonata.
See you guys next week. If you need me, I’ll be right here, occasionally whispering “Poison Rosebud” like Charles Foster Kane. Except instead of a sled, an anus.