• Jerri rubbed her hands together gleefully and let loose her witch cackle over outlasting Colby.
• Ethan went Kaboom! If Boom! means whining your way into oblivion.
• Rupert indulged his Hawaiian sling fetish.
• Rubfaddah showed that anything Rupe can do, he can do better.
• Romber sucked face.
• Lex told Jerri she was safe.
Let’s run these scenes through the Foreshadowing Translator machine: Looks like we’re getting a laundry list of “things that are doomed to be no more at some point in this episode.”
Except Ethan. He’s already history, the kind of non-event they don’t even bother to put in future trivia challenges.
Annoying grating rude sawing noises afflict the ears as we see Brandon, Lindsay and Kim Powers sawing logs--sleeping the morning away per usual, while Tom peeks in at them enviously.
Oh wait, that’s not Brandon, that’s Rubfaddah imitating Brandon’s “strategy.”
Rupert yells TIMBER!!!
This reminds Tom of wood, which reminds him that he’s horny, and he complains that he and Roopurt are Worker Bees that don’t get none. He hopes to merge soon with some Mojoless Worker Bees so that they can all get none together.
In the shelter, Rubfaddah is the Happy Bacon in the RubAmbahJennAlicious Tripledecker Club Sandwich.
Someday soon, he will arise in wrath and axe those who annoy his slumbah with noises of productivity. Later in the game, when he doesn’t need them to provide for him. Right now, they’re good earners.
Rupert wishes he could say “Get your asses out of bed so I can at least SEE some ass.” But he can’t say that. He has to be a good drone.
Rupert sublimates his frustration by acting out his fantasies with his spear.
Tom: Roopurt’s tha biggest dam hawg awn tha there thang, tha harpoon’s tha HARDEST dam thang ta git mah hayunds awn, but ah swayuh ah WILL git mah hayunds all ovah it todie cuz ah’m jes set awn gittin sum a that.
We see Tom wobbling into the water like a harpoon-happy landlubber and in no time (thanks to the miracle of editing) we hear Roopert hollering “Bring that whale on in.”
We look for EPM’s Search and Rescue team to be carrying Tom’s drowned corpse back to shore, but NO, nothing that eventful, it’s just Tom ecstatically waving his wee bitty “Fish-tank” fish.
Rupert thinks size counts . (Guess Rupert doesn’t know about “shrinkage.”) But he doesn’t burst Tom’s bubble. He cheers for Tom. He is just so happy that TOM couldn’t make him look bad. He likes Tom for being a Fish Underachiever, unlike pain-in-the-ass hemorrhoid Boston Rob.
OK, so isn’t this supposed to be a fast-paced mad scrambling emotional episode? So far we are just dilly-dallying around this Samburu déjà vu scene …
Time to check out the other camp for something more exciting and we get …
MOJOLESS HOBO CAMP
Jerri gets the first confessional. Those of us who read Snewser’s scorecard nod our heads and salivate, anticipating that this episode will go down as ALL ABOUT JERRI. We should get some priceless quotes, right?
Jerri seems to be starting out nicely, doing what she does best, bitching. Not about the way the rice is cooked, for there is no rice in this camp of lost souls.
No, it appears this godforsaken island has WEATHER. Weather sucks.
Jerri: This place is wet, dank, moldy, cold, wet, dripping, sodden, wet, soaking, mulching, decaying, wet, has hair-frizzling humidity and did I say moldy?
Out of synonyms for WET, she confesses that it’s “taking its toll” on her. But she won’t quit!
Jerri, honey, the rest of your tribe has to deal with the same conditions PLUS YOU! Now THAT’S a heavy toll. Be glad you’re unable to hear yourself as others hear you. That makes YOU the blessed member of this cursed tribe.
PLEEZ QUIT. Third quitter from ASS gets a “Colbymatic” slicer and dicer, absolutely FREE for the trial period at Loozer Lodge!
TREE MAIL at last!
Shii Ann/Kathy: What’s this can of Green paint? Merge, merge, we’re betting on a merge!
Shii Ann should be on her guard when she sees the paint, but if she does advise caution, they edit out all references to Survivor Thailand. Too painful to EPM.
Jerri: It’s green, like us. We’re sick of being green. This paint is the color of our moldy sucky camp and that green acid they said is BAD.
The Mojoless legal team confers on whether EPM can claim that they SHOULD HAVE KNOWN by the presence of the paint and its indubitable matching with their tribal color that they were supposed to smear it all over their bodies like a group that feels proud of its identity.
The thing is, they’re not proud. They’re big time loozers and it hurts. They’re not feeling playful.
The Mojoless legal team concludes that there is a lack of specific directions in the Tree Mail ordering them to so color themselves, coupled with a lack of specific labeling disclosure re the potential health hazards, and that whether or not this paint is in fact intended for facial or body application cannot be determined.
Lex: We don’t want to show up looking like a bunch of FREAKS covered in paint.
The irony that Lex of all people makes this statement is in-your-face. ‘Nuff said.
Tom: Tick tock, rub it awn mahk ock! poke poke (snorts and paws the earth) Ah can’t reach awl mah pahts, kin un o you heah gals help me owt sum?