Our Ultimate Surfers Have Been Crowned!
The end is here, the future is now.
Alas, our voyage has come to an end.
The winners of the Ultimate Surfer Competition will be decided tonight, earning themselves 100k, three wildcards on the CT, and the title as “The Ultimate Surfer.”
Normally, I would open this piece with some sort of factoid or opinion related to the show. We’ve covered the history of reality television, beefcakes, and even the decline in popularity of cable TV.
Today, I have nothing left to give, except love. My passion comes in the form of an acrostic poem, written for a man who has molded surf culture with his big strong (former NFL) hands, our beloved host Jesse Palmer.
Undeniably Charming
Loving
Take everything you want from me
I want to name our first child Stanley
Make surfing like this 4 ever
Are you going to propose or should I?
Tickle me
Exceptional hair
Sell me a bag of your exceptional hair
Understanding
Really, I’ll pay a premium fee for a ziplock bag of your head hair
Fondue on our third date
Ever wonder what a bag of your hair would look like in my sock drawer
Respect
End poem.
Enough romance, we’re live.
Koa shows us his hit list yet again, and Zeke is the last box to be checked.
In honor of tonight’s sacrifice, I have prepared cocktails along with an assortment of cheese and crackers atop a prehistoric slab, as the full Charcuterie board appeared to be out of my production budget.
Tia and Brianna are in the final together, which is what they wanted from the beginning, but they seem to be thinking deeper thoughts.
Joel speaks, we have a final message on the Kelly Vision. The message from the oracle goes fuzzy, then Kelly Slater, the Paulie Cicero of surfing, walks into the lounge.
Not a hologram, not a cardboard cut out, but the real GOAT. In the wool.
They all go for a surf, and Kelly shows off his skills. It almost appears if he’s surfed this exact wave before.
The rest of the crew goes, and Slater watches from the back of the ski, and we watch Slater. Koa needs more variety, Zeke needs to work on his timing, Brianna needs to commit, and Tia needs to escape her own head.
Jesse, the man with the hair that I want for sniffing purposes, returns.
Challenge time. Jesse makes everyone get into an SUV, blindfolded. The ultimate surfers are living my ultimate fantasy. I wonder if they all have bags of his hair. At the moment, I make Mt. Rushmore look like a wet noodle.
The eczema medicine commercial makes me no longer hungry, or horny. I put the cheese squares away. Also, neuken! That was the last Stella. For the rest of tonight, we’re drinking my favorite; Crown with a splash of water. Don’t you fucking dare judge my masculinity based off the dilution of whiskey, bitch.
We’re back to the kidnapping.
They drive to the other side of the ranch, still blindfolded. Zeke touches Koa for safety.
They take off their blind folds and face today’s challenge: relax.
ICE BATH MOTHER FUCKERS.
Our contestants then proceed to lounge in bathrobes and apply face masks. I realize I can get any writing/production/directing job I want at ABC as long as I don’t get a felony before applying.
At night, they sit around the fire and reminisce about their favorite ultimate surfer moments. We’re 20 minutes in, and legitimately nothing has happened.
Finals day is here, everyone is stretching, but the easily licensed music lets us know its aggressive stretching. Jesse calls everyone in.
This is it.
The Ultimate Surf off. 3 waves, only the highest-scoring will count. The man and woman with the highest scores will be the Ultimate Surfer. We have exactly 33 minutes to watch 12 waves.
The rest of the eliminated contestants are watching from the shore.
Brianna goes first. A few stumbles throughout the run. 6.17.
Tia comes out smooth and fast, but misses the end barrel. 7.33.
Everyone talks about their dreams of being on the CT. I open up about my goal to not be intimated by large crowds near a pier of any other geographic landmark.
Zeke goes next. Snaps n floaters for a bit, then a barrel with a reverse to finish. 8.00.
Koa gets freaky styley into the pit, but gets sucked up/off/on by the foam ball. 4.33.
Bri comes back out like Hacksaw Jim Duggan. 7.83 to take the lead.
Tia however, is feeling fired up. Vertical turns, deep barrel, and a roundhouse to finish. 9.5, Tia takes the crown back immediately.
Zeke is back on, but gets caught behind on a big top turn, 4.5. Oof.
Koa is talking about magic boards, pull together some neat carves, then comes through swinging with a frontside air reverse. 8.97, Koa pulls ahead.
During a commercial break, the state of California encourages me to take my vacation in California, to support local businesses. The last trip I took was to Florida, and I got to hunt an alligator (allegedly on methamphetamine) legally. Sorry, State of CA, but I’ll pass. Take the majority of my income and fuck off into another dimension.
Brianna needs a high score, and starts throwing down hammers, but the barrel wasn’t super deep. We’ll see.
Tia goes again, and for the first time I realize how hard it must be surfing with a jetski in your peripheral. It’s like swinging a golf club inside.
Zeke clocks in an ungodly amount of barrel time, and lofts an exquisite alley oop at the end.
Koa does the snaps and barrels hokey poke, and finishes with a backhand air reverse.
Now everything seems fucked because on the current judging scale, Zeke and Koa’s waves are both tens.
Joel Turpel lets us know that WE are the real winners, for getting to witness this. I knew this all along. I our another Crown then water a down like someone who is afraid of piers.
E-LOOOO SPOTTING. As if the CEO of the WSL wasn’t going to make a cameo. Plus, he’s got news…
TIA AND ZEKE ARE THE ULTIMATE SURFERS. BIG OL CHECKS! AND DON’T FORGET: WILDCARD, BITCHES.
YEEEEEEEEE HAWWWWWWW
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