Adrianne and Elyse park themselves at a table at the It's Never Been There Before Today Café, where they speak so covertly and quietly that they're accompanied by English language subtitles, because this is the American release of Trainspotting and Robin will now instead be playing the role of the baby on the ceiling because she is reminiscent of heroin withdrawal and all of its residual side effects. And here is what Elyse says: "It sucks that Kesse is gone. It sucks a lot. I really liked her," Elyse mourns, taking a heaping bite of You-Didn't-Care -About-Her-That- Much-When-She- Was-There-O's, the French breakfast treat with a richly ironic crunch that, if part of a heart-healthy diet, may even lower your Kesse-lesterol a few points. Adrianne is right there with her, whisper-agreeing, "I liked her, too. She's the only one besides you who didn't judge me all the time." Except that Elyse thinks Adrianne is a crappy listener, but it's not true unless you say it directly to someone's face, people. I mean, I know they made a few concessions to this notion of Kesse being a nice person, but where is this "kitten-with-a-whip diplomat who bridged the two warring ideologies" characterization busting out of suddenly? This totally reminds me of this one summer a few years ago I spent in Scotland working on a show, where we were all underpraised and underloved by each other, and thus began to project all of the love we were missing in the world onto the guy who worked in the sandwich shop next door to our apartment. He'd smile at us and say really reassuring things like "Here's your panini, chap," which we'd hear as "Of course the lack of natural light in this godforsaken place doesn't make your skin look sallow" or "You barely look a day over twenty-one yourself" and then we'd feel all glow-y and better until Sunday came and the sandwich place wasn't open and we'd see ourselves for the hideous shrews that we really were. Kesse is like that sandwich guy. Except that he really did make one hell of a panini.
"So who's left in?" Elyse continues on, answering her own question in the strange parlance of responding like she's in a scene in the second act of Guys & Dolls, "The holiest holy-rollers and the bottom of the barrel." Since the elimination of good old reliable Nathan, Nathan, Nathan, Nathan Detroit, that is! In a confessional, Robin agrees that things haven't been the same since "Miss Kesse" left, although we can assume that Robin's use of "title" and then "first name" indicates that her relationship to Kesse was quite a bit different than anyone else's. That being, Kesse was, apparently, her nursery-school teacher. We flash back to last week's elimination, while Robin voices over, "I physically could not stand up. I remember leaning on the wall." Yeah, take that, Elyse. You may have experienced the physiological response of firing neurons that led to the scientifically-explicable emotional state of "sadness" at Kesse's departures, but only a good, honest Christian like Robin would be able to reach deeply enough into herself and pull out a full-on case of the biblical vapors. Explain that away, you heartless scientician. Shannon agrees that "a little piece of [her] went away" when Kesse got the boot, because Robin told her to say it because God told Robin to tell Shannon what to do and that was the way it was and we liked it.