And Brets winner is

Well, the time has come where Bret Michaels will crown his most awesome, awesome skank as his Rock of Love. Let’s not waste any time, because this season has gone on long enough.

I found love, hey hey hey hey.

Both Ambre and Daisy claim to be baffled that they are Bret’s final two. Ambre, of course, was the leftovers from the first show when she was saved when stripper pole aficionado Jackie wussed out. Inflat-a-Daisy can’t believe she’s about to get the chance to be Bret Michaels’ girlfriend and have him pay off the balance due on those jugs. Get over your self-esteem issues, skanks. You’re off to Mexico! “Andele, andele, let’s rock,” says Bret.

The trio takes Bret’s Lear jet to Mexico, and because Destiney’s not here, there is no rhyming. At a resort appropriately called “ME Cancun,” they are welcomed with Mayan traditional dancers and of, course, fruity cocktails. Ambre and Daisy go up to their room, which conveniently has a balcony with a canopy bed on it overlooking the ocean, just in case the girls figure out that Bret is not the world’s most awesome skankwrangler and decide they could have a go.

Bret takes the ladies to dinner in his very special sparkly t-shirt. Daisy has a list of issues she wants to discuss, and Ambre, along with America, is surprised that she knows how to write. Daisy wants to know if all they have is the physical connection. I’ll take this one, Bret. No, gimpy. He loves you for your big heaving silicone brain. Bret artfully dodges this question, as he has all season long. “With you, you’re a little bit still of a mystery to me.” He tells her that they need to connect on a “cerebral level, like mental if you know what I mean.” Daisy does not know what you mean. Herein lies the problem.

Ambre and Daisy start to argue, which is a theme of the entire episode to the extent that it actually gets boring. It is more exciting to watch their makeup melt down their faces from the muy caliente heat in Mexico. Bret tells Ambre, as if she doesn’t already know, that she wants to win at all costs. To prove this point, Ambre leans over and slobbers all over him, showing that she’s not afraid of some communicable disease because she is in it to win it. Ambre nails the compulsory “here for Bret” line, and I’m starting to think we’re in for an upset here. She admits that she doesn’t typically date past-their-prime former hair band superstars, “but you’re exactly what I’m looking for.” The sweatier Ambre gets, the older she looks. Bret needs to think about it.

Up in their room, Ambre and Daisy are clawing at each other’s eyes again. Daisy says her feelings are hurt because Ambre said she was using her sexuality to get Bret. “Obviously, you don’t feel sexy,” says Daisy, then launching into an imitation of how Ambre walks, which is actually pretty good. Ambre is not having it. “Surgery could make me hotter, but surgery isn’t going to make her smarter.” She has morphed from jack-in-the-box to a devious genius. “She has no idea who she’s up against.”

Each girl gets to spend an entire day alone with Bret, and Ambre is up first. Bret is wearing a black tank top for their adventure, which figures, and a ponytail too, plus bandana. He is literally a hot mess.They go to Xcaret, “a Mayan, awesome jungle experience.” Ambre is touching butterflies and rocking some humidity hair. They take a boat to a cave where they will get massages. There are lots of shots of hands over greasy bodies, and it’s not pretty, people. Ambre, tired of letting Paco do all the work, gets on top of Bret and begins to give him a massage. She, um, works out his kinks, all the while chomping on gum, which is totally hawt. Once Bret figures out that it’s not Paco on his back, they proceed to suck face in front of most of Mexico.

Next up is lunch on the beach. Bret says he sees Ambre as an energetic person, which he says is good because “I don’t live in the box,” and he’s glad she’ll be able to keep herself occupied when they’re not shacked up. They stand and look at the ocean. “I like the way you nook in my nook.” Bret says they cleared a lot of things up. Hmmm.

“What an awesome, awesome day,” proclaims Bret, despite the fact that Ambre was apparently wearing decidedly unsexy men’s flip-flops the entire time. Ambre stops in the room to freshen up for dinner and toss out a few zingers at Daisy Claws. Here’s a couple samples: “For such a pretty girl, you’re the ugliest woman I’ve ever met in my life,” and “I think you’re a hateful b*tch.” Nice. Daisy says she doesn’t have a clue what its like to date a musician, because otherwise she would know that being an ugly-pretty hateful b*tch is in the job description.

While Ambre got all dressed up for dinner with a skunky-skank hairdo, Bret is similarly dressed to impress in a t-shirt and purple bandana. Bret slips a silver necklace with charms on it over her neck. He decides that he feels “very, very myself when I’m around Ambre,” but he also knows she can ho with the best of them. Ambre decides he needs some convincing. “By the way, for the record, I’m not wearing any underwear.” Court reporter, could you read that back please? “Can I see?” She shows him Wally and the Beav – twice, I guess to make sure it didn’t disappear. Bret’s seen enough. “Check please.”

They go off to his room to do it. He points out all the furniture they can do it on.“Is that not awesome?” It is…not. Hey look, there’s a bed and candles on the balcony. “This is the moment of truth,” says Bret, further confusing us all.

It’s morning and Bret’s hair and bangs are plastered to his head. Ambre does the walk of shame with her head held high. Bret admits, “I had my doubts about her being sexually intense enough.” Blech. She must have been, because she managed to wrestle that bandana off without ripping off the wig. He concludes that Ambre is “the whole package.”

It’s time for Daisy Claws to spend the day with Bret. They’re going “fishing, and a little deep sea boating,” which should be interesting. Bret wants to find out “what’s in her noggin” besides air and a few more lies and probably some grape jelly. Bret’s protecting his own noggin with a straw cowboy hat with a turquoise and silver buckle.

Bret starts off with the hard questions, wanting to know if she’s in a transitional period, unlike Ambre who has it all together. She is confused about the question, but Bret digs that she has a big, um, heart. They set sail and everything is very “I’m the king of the world!” until Daisy gets seasick and heaves her guts out, which thoughtful Bret likes because “that chummin’ is good fishing.” Daisy is losing circulation in her hands and can’t move her hands, and now we know something is really, really wrong. The captain doesn’t want her to jump overboard, and Bret agrees. “We want to be fishing, but not for her body.” Accidental drowning jokes are such a gas. And like this girl would ever sink to the bottom – she’s a flotation device.

Bret thinks it’s hot when Daisy chucks it over the boat. Daisy loves that he’s not grossed out by her vomit. “God, can you be any more amazing, I mean seriously, stop it, you’re killing me!”

They return to dry land and go to dinner, except that Daisy has jumped the shark and wore her satin purple nightie, ready for bed. Bret tells us, “I am so hot on this girl right now.” He gives her the same necklace he gave Ambre, which seems like poor form, but Daisy coos over it. After calling Ambre “boring,” she starts to flail her hands in front of Bret, proving they have magically returned to their normal spastic state. This is her mating dance, see, and she blurts out that she loves him. “She just may damn well be the girl for me.” Bret leads her to his love lair, ready to test this out. Again.

In the morning, Bret wants to be sure that the Cialis did the job to Daisy’s satisfaction. “So did you have a really awesome time?” Of course she did. Daisy walks back to the skanktuary and promptly gets into a fight with Ambre. “You degraded me by calling me an f-ing stripper,” shouts Daisy. “Dude, that’s your occupation.” Jeez, do you have to say it out loud? Point, Ambre.

Having sent the skanks to the spa, Bret walking the beach and contemplates how he doesn’t want to make the wrong decision again. Is the thing with Daisy just physical? Can Ambre can deal with him being on the road all the time? The answer to both questions, friends, is yes.

It’s time for elimination, and Ambre is wearing a short red dress that accentuates the face that she lacks breasts. She is also literally glistening with sweat. Daisy is wearing a black keyhole dress that accentuates her fake breasts. So there’s one difference between the two, highlighted in 3-D. Daisy is very scerrred about elimination. “I could be with Bret forever, or I could be heartbroken as f*ck.”

Is this Survivor? There are torches and steps and a dehumidifier or some A/C is badly needed by the look of things. Bret is rocking a shiny suit and is standing like thirty feet away from them since Big John’s not there to protect him. Daisy tells us, “I totally opened myself up.” Yes, sweetie, we know all about it. Like, 500 times.

Bret says, “I am forced to make a decision.” Yes, and if you don’t believe him, you can look at the contract. He calls Daisy down, and it looks like he’s chosen the tiny inflatable sprite….until he says those dreamy words of rejection: “Your tour ends here.” She’s OUT! SUCKER! Bret is afraid that she needs him more than she wants him. She’s so stunned, and she stumbles away. “I just want to crawl in a bog and eat a lot of ice cream.” I’m not sure that’s a good idea, given that you now have to return to your job-which-shall-not-be-named. Also, did she really say “bog?” Bye, Daisy. I’m sure this is not the last we’ve seen of your blow-up parts.

Then Bret turns to the chosen one. “Ambre, you are my rock of love.” Ambre is shaking with glee. Always the romantic, Bret is ready to move on. “Now let’s go have hot monkey sex.” Ambre shrieks with delight, because surely any monkey he’s found is a better lover than Bret Michaels. Make sure there’s some calliope music playing in the background – she’s into that.

I have to give it to good old BM. It seems like he made the right decision. I think the Wally and the Beav Show put Ambre over the edge. It proved she could live the “rock and roll lifestyle.” And, of course, she was always “here for Bret.” Awesome.

– By NICOLE HOMEWOOD

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