"Extreme" Measures Taken to Improve Conditions in Local Apartment Complex

Ty Pennington, host of ABC's "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition," paid a surprise visit yesterday to a South Oakland apartment complex.

"Gooooood afternoon, McKee Place Manor!" Pennington shouted into a megaphone.

The designer's usual 6 a.m. wake-up call was pushed back seven hours to accommodate building residents – University of Pittsburgh students who slowly shuffled outside to greet their spiky haired guest.

Months ago, a mother of one of the young tenants sent a video tape to the reality show's producers, begging them to rescue her daughter from "that $800-a-month, rat-infested shithole."

From rickety stairs and broken windows to dysfunctional smoke detectors and urine-stained carpets, the 50-year-old structure is in violation of numerous health and fire safety codes.

Pennington knew he had to act fast or watch the entire dwelling collapse.

"We might not be able to transform this place into Home Sweet Home," he said, "but at least we can help these kids get their security deposits back."

After a tour of the hovel, members of the design team interviewed each occupant about their interests.

Philosophy major Todd Smithson said he liked Bob Marley.

Total Cum Dumpster Angelina Dixon™ regaled carpenter Paul DiMeo with stories of her recent sexual conquests.

During periods of semi-consciousness, alcoholic Ted Landon slurred the name "Gene."

Fraternity brothers Kyle Harris, Pete Sipes, and Jason Rhodes sang the praises of Old German Beer. "The world knows no finer," Sipes explained to designer Paige Hemmis.

All of the residents were sent to Sandcastle Waterpark for the day while workers renovated their pads.

When the renters returned eight hours later – intoxicated and sporting farmer's tans – they were literally bursting with excitement.

"Gotta pee," mumbled Landon, crossing his legs.

A Port Authority bus, which had broken down in front of McKee Place Manor, was the only thing separating the tenants from their new-and-improved lives.

"Bus driver," an agitated Pennington screamed, "move that bus!"

Once inside, residents were delighted by what they saw.

"My coffee table is in the shape of a giant marijuana leaf!" said Smithson. "And my four-poster bed, it's actually a four-person bong!"

The Delta Sigma brothers were greeted by a statue of beer mascot Herman the German, which dispensed ice-cold lager from the tip of its finger.

Upon seeing the plush whorehouse décor in her bedroom, Dixon grabbed a volunteer laborer and slammed the door.

The most impressive makeover awaited Landon, who, in February, was banned from Gene's Place for guzzling an entire bottle of Rock & Rye and putting his fist through the jukebox. His apartment is now an exact replica of the Louisa Street bar.

"Ooooh," Landon said, fondling the I.C. Light tap.

Pennington, who was arrested for DUI last year, patted the tearful drunkard on the back and smiled. "Welcome home, my friend," he said. "Welcome home."