Well, wear a giant napkin ring round my neck and call me TuliSa. X-Factor.
An hour and twenty minutes to decide which twelve acts are going through to the live finals.
Ten minutes in and Master Johnny was already shouting, “Bloody hell, just tell us who got through!” Precisely.
The show started in St Lucia, where Amy showed her nerves.
“My belly’s turning,” she said, which was a relief. The locals thought the roaring noise was an approaching tsunami.
So, who was in, who was out?
Dead Granddad Girl Ella went through straight away, which was pretty obvious. No doubt she’ll have an image change to sort out those eyes. Nobody should be allowed to apply mascara with a paint roller.
Leanne, the girl with the personality of a sideboard, was out straight away, as was Serial Killer’s daughter. There will be repercussions for the judges. Dead Pool bets on which one gets it.
Jade Singlemum managed to hold it together long enough to be told she was going through. Let’s hope that little girl is her daughter and not a child she stole from the local children’s centre.
Which left just one place – Adele or Victoria Wood?
Shock, horror – out went Amy!! She cried all over Dermot, but who was quick enough to notice she nicked his stripy shirt?
Across to Vegas and the bands, where poor Louis was on the roof opposite The Hotel Paris which must confuse him. Why is it so hot in France? He probably wondered, as sweat trickled down his over botoxed face and burnt holes in his shirt.
Louis’ choices are predictable. Mitsotu, with the girl dressed in Cheryl Cole social housing geisha style, were out. Not enough boys. Duke, who represented what would happen if a boy band were allowed to spend 8 months on a diet of lager and McDonalds, were also
history. Not enough pretty boys.
MK1, however went through, with Simon (doesn’t suit him) throwing away his crutches.
“He’s healed!” Louis nearly shouted, as Simon nearly fell off the roof. So MK1 go through. One boy and one girl who looks like a pretty boy.
GMD3 were the next to get the nod. Three young, pretty boys who threw themselves at Louis on hearing the good news.
So would it be Times Red, older, mature men with great voices, or Union J, who I prefer to call One J Rection, which is nearly the effect they have on Louis. Seeing a pattern here?
Yep. Cue slow mo pictures of young boys wrapping themselves around Louis followed by dejected looks of Times Red. Lady Barton St Mary had to be restrained at this point.
So, onto the ‘boys.’
James, the Jarvis Cocker -a -like, managed to get through. Let’s hope all his tats are spelled correctly.
Nathan and the other one, Jake, were dismissed by Hamilton’s squeeze with very little drama. I think they’d given theirs to somebody else who we haven’t mentioned yet, although I think you might guess who that is.
Jahmene Douglas, the nervous android, made the finals and reacted by turning on his happy chip, smiling, but declining the opportunity to hug the fragrant Miss Sherzinger, just in case she interfered with his circuitry.
“Grow some balls,” instructed The Pussy Cat Doll. Jahmene smiled, obviously wondering if this could be done during his next upgrade.
So, the remaining place on the live show would be Adam or, talking of growing gonads, Rylan. You know the result. Adam was sent packing, making up for Jahmene’s reticence by positively groping our Nicole. Dontcha like yer bum to be squeezed like this, dontcha?
Which meant Rylan was through. As you can imagine, his reaction was characteristically understated. He threw himself on the floor before rising, fanning his face and making a strange gutteral noise; it appeared that Rylan hadn’t grown a pair of testicles but instead was choking on them.
Tears flowed. Nicole looked confused and amused, probably due to the various hand signals the film crew must have been making at Rylan. Rylan stumbled outside like a mincing Frankenstein’s monster and lay prone in front of Dermot, who seemed, quite frankly, not to give a shit.
Then the Oldies.
“If I go through, I might projectile vomit all over Gary,” said Kye. I’d pay money to vote for that, I thought.
Kye got the nod, but no puke ensued. Shame.
Nicola, the Thunderbirds puppet, was kicked out.
“I always thought you were crap, but I loved you in Stingray,” Gary almost said.
Also, bye bye Brad, the Michael Boulton soundalike who looked like what you would get if you crossed Monty Don with Marco Pierre White. Maybe he could go on to become a celebrity gardening chef.
Carolynne, the MILF, showed Gary what she had and got a positive response. The leopard skin top and shorts helped, causing a ‘Louis Walsh boy band’ moment to take Gary over and give MILF an Adam style celebratory hug. He punched the air in celebration afterwards. It’s the first time in X Factor history that the judge was worried he might get the brush off.
Which left Melanie, the shouty fairy and Christopher, the, erm, nanny’s fairy. Out went old shaky hands, into the live final goes the woman with the Robert Plant locks.
Cut to scene of shouty fairy running off platform to greet her two young daughters.
“Mummy’s in the live final!” she exclaimed. The young children looked bemused.
“Never mind that, where’s my ****ing present?” the oldest child nearly said.
Which leave the wild card place. Yes, that’s right, the wild card, known in the business as fleecing morons for more money card. A second chance can go to:
Adele, Times Red, Adam or Nanny’s Fairy. Only you can decide.
Until next week. I can’t give any more than that. I can’t give any more, I tell you.