After watching Flavor of Love last night, I have grown increasingly disappointed with the quality of the show. In addition the littany of issues that I raised last week, it is becoming more and more apparent that the show is highly staged. In addition to creating highly contrived circumstances, such as Somethin’ defacating on the floor or the ostensibly random acts of petting between the contestants, the show represents Flav as oblivious to the intentions and backgrounds of the girls. This became obvious last season when Flav expressed shock and disappointment that Hoopz did not want to pursue a relationship with him after the taping ended. But as Hoopz pointed out, the folks at VH1 had already begun recruiting contestants for the second season before she was announced the winner.

This season, however, the storyline has become ridiculously shaky. For example, last night Nibblez went to Flav to let him know that Toastee was a “porno star.” An ostensibly shocked Flav launched an immediate investigation into her past, ultimately eliminating her from the show for denying the allegations. While it is possible that one or two contestants slip through the cracks of a background investigation –take, for example, the people from Amerian Idol whose skeletons have emerged after advancing in the show– it is completely unbelievable that such easily accessible information is consistently overlooked by the producers.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that the show is no longer enjoyable. Rather, in order to enjoy it we must engage in the practice of kayfabe, or the suspension of disbelief when watching the show. The term, which emerged during the heyday of professional wrestling, was central to sustaining the illusion that the storylines and characters were not fictional. For example, wrestling magazines like Pro Wrestling Illustrated and The Wrestler treated wrestling as if it were a real sport, providing thorough coverage of matches, ranking wrestlers in various organizations, and voting for wrestler of the year. Although the term is less relevant in the wrestling world –WWE owner Vince McMahon admitted that wrestling was fake years ago– it provides a useful lens through which to understand the pleasure of watching “reality” television.

That said, I will no longer “break kaybabe” in my analyses of Flavor of Love. Instead, I will describe, discuss, and critique the show as if it were entirely real. In addition to allowing me to preserve my dignity and sanity, maintaining kayfabe will allow me to assume the posture of most of the show’s viewers, who actually believe Hottie couldn’t make chicken and Buckwild just happens to be a professional comedian.