The Fanny Pack was eliminated this week. We’re angry. We’re sad. And all we have to say about it is this:
Whhhhhhyyyyyyyyy? Why, why, why? (Picture us pounding our fists on judge J.C. Chasez’ girl-chest and crying tears of rage while wiping snot from our faces with Lil Mama’s ponytail)
It just doesn’t make sense. This week was the 80’s challenge. That’s The Fanny Pack’s whole thing. The throwback is what they do.
It’s as if ABDC producers passed the ball to Michael Jordan at the free throw line, watched him sail to the basket like a heron in flight, and then said "Mmmmm, not quite enough height on that dunk MJ. Siddown." . . . No? The basketball metaphor doesn’t work for you? Okay, let’s try again: It’s like asking Mary Lou Retton to execute a triple salchow, and then. . . . Nope, wait, that might be wrong too . . .
Double toe loops aside, the Fanny gang is gone. And now, we’re down to the last two: So Real Cru and Super Cr3w. Because this show is more addictive than nicotine, we’ll still watch the finale. So Real Cru will probably bring dependably smooth and well-rehearsed choreography to the table. Super Cr3w will almost certainly incorporate some kind of gasp inducing Evel-Knievel stunts into their performances. And Mario Lopez will have greased his hair within an inch of its life (Side note: Is he using some form of a gel product, or a pomade, or is there a natural greasiness at play here? Talk amongst yourselves).
We’ll watch the showdown, and we’ll enjoy the performances, but (insert pause for dramatic effect) we’re pretty sure America’s Best Dance Crew has already left the building. Yup, that’s right, we said it. Read those last few lines again if you need to.
-- Olivia Purnell