Elimination Night - By Anonymous Page 0,56

of those Schwarzenegger movies,” by which I presumed he meant The Running Man, in which a sadistic game-show host presides over the hunting and killing of his contestants.) Adding to the general science-fiction theme, the cage was equipped with a white, egg-shaped sofa, several transparent blobs of plastic (of no obvious purpose) and a lonely, straight-backed chair, which appeared to have been sprayed with glue, then dipped in glitter. The latter was of course for the potential finalists, and had been modified under Len’s orders to make one leg two inches shorter than the others. The idea was to ensure as much discomfort as possible—although I suspected Len also secretly wanted the chair to break, ideally with one of the more obese contestants sitting in it. Such moments of shame were Len’s favorite kind of ad-lib.

The format of Las Vegas Week was fairly straightforward: Each contestant would perform an Elvis classic—in keeping with the location—followed by a song of their own choosing. At the end of the second song, the judges would whisper to each other and take notes, but make no official comments—these would come later in The Decision Room. Or as the crew had renamed it, The Lion’s Den.

Bonnie was one of the very first on stage. Although it had now been a month since San Diego, no one had forgotten that epic audition—or how it had transformed Joey into the de facto star of season thirteen. Bibi certainly hadn’t forgotten. That’s why she’d been trying to out-care Joey whenever possible. After Cassie Turner’s performance of “The Internationale,” for example, she’d spoken at length, in a tremulous whisper, about how she too wanted to unite the human race—the effect being only slightly undermined by her apparent belief that Bruce Springsteen had written the song. In the same vein, she had wept for a minute and a half over Mia Pelosi’s rendition of “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That),” and had climbed up on stage to embrace Little Nugg after his yodel-based interpretation of “Imagine,” declaring that “Isaac Hayes would be incredibly proud of how you honored his legacy.”

Bibi wasn’t done yet with Operation Sensitive, however.

Oh, no. Not even close.

I knew something was up when Bonnie’s Elvis number was switched at the last minute. She was supposed to be singing “Can’t Help Falling in Love”—another heartbreaker—but Len somehow convinced her that “Suspicious Minds” was a “better fit.” This clearly wasn’t true. Plus, Bonnie couldn’t remember the words. As a result, her performance was borderline unwatchable. She missed her cues. She improvised the verses. She searched for, but never quite located, the key. And it shook her confidence so badly, she could barely make it through her own choice of song, a reprieve of “I’ll Stand by You.” When the ordeal was finally over, you could feel relief coursing through the room like a shot of post-op morphine. As instructed, however, the judges didn’t say a word. They just made vague hmm noises and hung their heads, unable to pretend even to talk among themselves or jot in their Project Icon notepads.

Being one of the first to sing, Bonnie was also one of the first to enter The Lion’s Den at the end of the week. Now, at this point I didn’t think there was any serious doubt she would make it into the Final Fifteen. Len’s meddling with her song choice had seemed like an obvious ploy to create drama, to convince the audience that the very best contestant of the auditions round might be eliminated before the live shows began. But I wasn’t fooled: Why would Project Icon get rid of a performer almost guaranteed to bring in higher ratings (most of the supermarket tabloids had already featured her on their covers), thus allowing Rabbit to charge more for its advertising? Also—Bibi would clearly never let this happen. Her job now was to out-care Joey, a mission that wouldn’t exactly be helped if she voted to send home the beautiful and talented wife of an injured American serviceman.

Still, something didn’t feel right.

I could tell.

Moments before Bonnie was due to enter The Lion’s Den, I saw Teddy, Len, and Bibi huddling by the lighting desk. They were discussing something in great detail. Teddy was upset. Len was pointing. Bibi walked away, arms folded, then returned, scowling. More talk. Then whatever it was they’d been haggling over seemed to be resolved. Bibi took her place in the cage, Teddy disappeared, and Len made a long, whispered