Man, I had one foot hangin’ off the David Cook bandwagon the past couple of weeks, and I was ready to jump. After pulling me in with his smoking hot rendition of “Hello,” I desperately wanted to love him. But his smirky rock star act was really wearing on me. My husband put it most succinctly when he said, “Man, I just want to throat punch that guy.”

But my David must have sensed my distress, because last night he delivered a killer version of Chris Cornell’s arrangement of “Billie Jean,” while showing absolutely no trace of the smug rock star act he’s been putting on the past couple of weeks. Here’s the funny thing: I had heard Chris Cornell’s version a couple of times, and I hated it. I mean, really, seriously despised it. But seven notes in to David Cook’s performance, I was so rapt that I almost forgot to breathe. It was so unbelievably, absolutely amazing that I could not even bear to listen to the original Michael Jackson version this morning during my run. That song is now forever changed for me, and I’ll never hear it the same way again.

Oh yeah, and nine other people sang last night. My predictions for the bottom three:

Ramiele’s Lip Gloss shouted Heart’s “Alone” at me. Does she not know this is the American Idol kiss of death? Is it possible Nigel and Debbie let her believe this was a good idea just to get rid of her? Maybe she believes Paula’s drug-addled ramblings about her alleged “big voice” and thought she could pull it off.

Chikezie sang a boring ballad that I honestly can’t remember. I think he really wants to be Luther Vandross, but it’s just not what he’s best at. It’s unfortunate that he keeps trying to force himself into the role of soulful balladeer, because I like his fun funk/soul vibe that he’s brought out the past couple of weeks.

If there were any justice in the AI universe, David Archuleta would grab the third spot for his dreadful “You’re The Voice”. His lower register was non-existent and he sounded out of breath for most of the song. Simon’s allusion to his alleged stage dad choosing the song for him had me once again loving that insufferable Brit for his uncanny ability to read my mind. However, since Archie has more than enough of a fan base to help him weather this storm, the final place in the bottom three will go to either Jason Castro (insert my Ramiele pout here) or Syesha Mercado. I could also see a place for Carly Smithson in the bottom three, but I think her fans will rally this week after last week’s travesty.

Who’s Going Home: The Curse of the High-Waisted Trousers will carry on, and Ramiele’s Lip Gloss will be sent packin’.