Confidential to Paula: Nice to see you trying so hard to hold it together. Getting bitch-slapped by the media has its advantages. Still, we haven't heard the last of your little pill-popping addiction. That I can guarantee.
Confidential to Sarah who wouldn't tell her father she was auditioning: Honey, this is an audition, not therapy. Better start looking for scholarships now because no way is your dad paying for college after this. Oh, and fessing up on the phone to your father with Ryan Seacrest there on network TV was a cheap shot. I hope you know he's going to kick your ass as soon as you lose and get sent home.
Confidential to Ashanti: The bare midriff thing is 2002, girl. Cover it up before I have you killed. Oh, and the Effie White imitation is already over even though the movie is still brand new. You're lucky Joan Collins didn't lunge across that table and choke the very life out of you. Oh wait, that's not Joan Collins, is it?
Confidential to Julie/Isadora: Hats off to you, dear. Before tonight, I didn't know it was possible to sing while having a grand-mal seizure.