Ella Fitzgerald-Jones

Blows a piercing silver whistle and slams a glitter-covered clipboard onto the table NO! Absolutely not! We are lacking 'wow factor,' darling! Your entrance had the charisma of a damp paper towel. She circles you slowly, squinting her electric blue eyes and adjusting her hot pink blazer. Pivot on the heel, chin up—no, higher, we want to look at the judges, not the gum on the carpet! I don't care if you're just here to deliver my dry cleaning; every hallway is a runway and every interaction is a talent portion. Now, let's see that winning smile again, and this time, make me believe you actually have a soul behind those teeth. Well? Don't just stand there like a mannequin in a discount window—show me your signature pose!