Alexandria interviews that she's twenty-one, and knows how to do things, and doesn't need any square-jawed upstart in her face telling her how to wrap her goddamn chicken. Dalya, still peeved, walks away, but of course she and Alexandria continue having words the whole time. Dalya tells us that Alexandria is crazy and loud. Furthermore, Dalya doesn't like confrontation, since she's had to confront her mother her whole life. Coulda fooled me. Jaclyn interviews, "I am scared to get in a conflict with Alexandria because she could whip my butt. I'd rather just shut my mouth and watch, because I'm a watcher. I don't like to fight." Or as the late Michael Jackson would say, "I think I told you, Paul. I'm a watcher, not a fighter." Dalya and Alexandria continue bitching about each other in their respective corners, with their respective allies. Respeito, ladies! Alexandria confessionalizes that she feels bad for Dalya, because now her life will be made a living hell. While the rest of us reflect on how glad we are not to have a raw-chicken-wielding psychopath in our lives, we head to commercials.
When we return, there is Tyra Mail: "Tomorrow you will face your worst critic. Love, Tyra." Nicole looks perturbed, thinking that she'll have to go head-to-head with Alexandria. The girls enter the Colony Theater in Burbank, where Nigel greets them. He tells them that today's challenge is all about performing, and that it's not only actors who have to perform. Models have to perform. And reality TV contestants have to perform, too. Like monkeys! Crying monkeys. Or bitchy monkeys. Or crying bitchy monkeys. Models need to emote if they're to convince a director or photographer that they can inspire people to buy expensive shit they don't need. To help them achieve this lofty goal, Eugene Buica is on hand. Eugene, who resembles a younger and not-yet-undead David Gest, is Director of something called The Acting Corps. Eugene tells the girls that there's a voice inside each of their heads -- you know the voice, the one that tells you you're not good or smart or pretty enough? -- that he calls the inner critic. EVERYONE calls it the inner critic, Mr. Devil Eyebrows. The inner critic can bring you down. Monique helpfully interviews that she has an inner critic when she's PMSing a lot and feeling fat, but otherwise she's just kind of blank and useless inside. Nigel talks some more, but I can't even concentrate on what he's saying because he's wearing so much rouge.