Sara is on the phone with her mom complaining about her knee and sticking her stank foot right into an overhead camera. Hey, feet? Behind the fourth wall is not "the market," so you tell those piggies they can wee wee wee all the way home and out of my face. She complains about her sore knee, and her mother smartly asks if she might consider going to the doctor, to which Sara replies that she thinks she might not so much go to the doctor. She says just a heat pack would do. Shandi? Could you point us to the correct aisle?

Oh, there you are. Shandi is putting up pictures of her boyfriend and feeling generally very lovey about things, until she gets on the phone with him and Eric unwisely kicks off the conversation by asking, "You remember a girl named Lauren?" He tells Shandi that he's going to the movies with said Lauren, "because her husband works at AMC as a general manager, so he's getting us free tickets." Suddenly, big fight. Like, in a troublesome, confusingly edited way, where all of a sudden he's screaming that this so-called Lauren has "a husband and a kid," which causes Shandi to be all je t'accuse! in her response, "So people never cheat on their husbands?" Eric unwisely takes the route of most ignorance, insisting, "No! They don't!" World-weary from the miles she has walked (back and forth on the runway always to end right back at the beginning, but she has WALKED! In heels!), Shandi asserts, "Yes, they do." Yes. They do. She starts bawling and stage-whispers, "I hate you," and she confides in us -- US!: "Going to the movies. That's like, our secret thing that we share." Yeah, well. Sister's got to start keeping some better secrets.

I mean, I love her and I totally want her to win still, but is anyone else starting to feel like maybe, just maybe, Yoanna is a tiny bit more the house pariah than Camille? Because, check it: it's nighttime in big bad New York town, and Shandi, Sara, Mercedes, and Camille are out at a club. Yoanna is, I guess, scarf-shopping on Fashion Avenue. April is renouncing the existence of Japan. The other four dance it up, and, according to Shandi, a guy with the haircut I had in 1996 (which, fine, is also the haircut I had in 2002, so shut up, but...nice middle part) approaches and tells them, "You four girls are the hottest girls in here." On a show about supermodels. Flanked by television cameras. And yet he still only aimed as high as Shandi. And of course she's the prettiest after prolonged exposure, but I don't know...anyone else feel like this guy was hedging his bets according to what he thought he could get? You know? A little bit? In the rock group of those four girls, she'd be the bass player. That's all I'm saying.