The plot bastes. Giselle checks in from across the room, lying in bed and thinking about how tired she is and how at home she gets her servants to come and lie in her bed for her. From there, she smirks at Ebony, who is wearing a white bathrobe and rubbing some serious lotion on her legs. Giselle hires a rickshaw to carry her over to the nearest confessional, where she laughingly tells of us of Ebony, "She uses so much grease on herself that, like, her grease gets on the doorknob of the bathroom." And now, after a thoughtful beat: "She's so loud." And, sure as hell, we cut back to the bedroom, where Giselle eats some cereal that I'm sure is a delicious bowl of Honey Bunches Of Proof Of My Last Confessional while Ebony rubs some kind of moisturizer shit all over her and screams nonsensically to anyone (though no one will) listen, "You get up on your booty and you move it!" She's like one of those subway preachers who shouts abstractly to no one about how Vietnam made her realize that the government was putting mind-control drugs inside aspirin and that the advent of rock and roll was a governmentally-sanctioned plan to make people take more aspirin and be more controlled in the mind. And that's why we have Ted Nugent.
Wait. Didn't that girl get booted last week? Security! With Nicole gone, you'd think that I'd be able to identify Shannon with no trouble, but alas...she still looks like Heather. She tells us, apropos of nothing, "Some may excel in this area and some may excel in that area, so things can change most definitely." I guess they just wanted to make sure that, if you have absolutely no information to disseminate at a given time, you give it to the spokesperson who will be able to deliver it with the greatest rasp of swallowed-knife smoothness.
Tyra Mail! Tyra Mail! Giselle tells us that they were simply told to meet in the lobby, but that they didn't know where they were going. Oh, I'm sure they were told, but they must have said it in some arcane, confusing language that Giselle wouldn't know, like English or American. We cut to the girls walking up the steps of a New York-ish building (i.e. covered in snow), and inside a black box theater where Tyra "Supermodel II: Zooooooooooooooooood!" Banks also just happens to be. She stands on the stage and asks them, "You guys know where you are today?" I do! I do! Is it the Kraine Theater? I know all black box theaters look more or less identical, but I can swear I've been in that exact room before, where I had the "privi" "lege" of seeing this musical that the South Park guys wrote about a cannibal. Called -- wait for it -- Cannibal. And yet I languish in obscurity. But, luckily, we're in a theater, so I get to call my acting chops into play and act like I'm not bitter.