Ali and Roberto get dolled up in their jungle costumes and rehearse their dance number. They're going on Broadway, baby! It is really too bad that the Tonys were last night, because I think we have some serious contenders! Ali and Roberto are dangled from the air in flagrante delicto while all the other guys watch from the cheap seats, groaning loudly. Jonathan explains his need for a Silkwood shower after watching five minutes of their act. Then the curtain goes up, the show starts, and Ali and Roberto head to the stage. The Himbos have been kicked out of the theater (their moans were pretty loud) and are watching the musical on a TV set in the lobby. Obviously, Ali and Roberto nail their forbidden dance and all the men weep and rend their clothes and don sackcloth and put ashes on their heads. Their lives have no meaning, and they have no tickets to the hottest show on Broadway. Just kill yourselves!

Back at the luxury condo, Ali is hocking up loogies all over the place and the men all cluck and nod their heads because their darling has a cold and reality television does not stop for colds. This is reality! Loogies and all! The guys know that Ali probably wants to have an early night, but Frank makes sure to get some alone time with "his" lady. Meanwhile, Jonathan is strategizing with the other men as to how he will make his move, and there is a panicky edge to his voice. Roberto laughs that the forecast for The Weatherman is a high-pressure system moving in, which is actually pretty funny, and it seems so unfair that he would be hot, dimpled, a baseball player AND funny. Then I remember he sells insurance, and the scales of the universe are back in balance.

Ali and Frank head outside in a rainstorm, despite her head cold. Ali wants to reassure Frank that he should still love her despite the fact that she is dating ten other guys and made out with several of them in front of him. Just ignore all that, Frank! Love her! Frank proves his love by kissing her full on the mouth, cooties, germs and all. While Frank and Ali make out in the rain and Ali makes Frank take a blood oath of allegiance, a messenger drops a card off at the condo announcing the second one-on-one date. The winner? Chris L., our Cape Cod landscaper with a dead mommy and a good head on his shoulders. Don't worry, Frank; it's his birthday, and Ali's just tossing him a pity date because she's too cheap to spring for a dozen cupcakes. Back at the hotel, Dead-Behind-the-Eyes Craig is promising Ali that he will make an excellent provider for her and any of his frat brothers who need a crash pad for a few nights when their investments go south. Ali is too hepped up on cold medicine to give a shit.