In the next installment of Further Adventures in Houseguest Mental Health (Or Lack Thereof), we now learn that Marcellas spends quite a bit of his time in the house talking to the only person he really thinks is good enough to hang out with -- himself. Marcellas talks to himself about Charlie's Angels, about how bossy Danielle is, about what he wants for Christmas...in short, the boy is losing his marbles. And that's before he starts talking about wanting to look like David Soul on Starsky and Hutch. In the DR, he laughs hysterically trying to explain it, because the fact is that there is no explaining it. You talk to yourself, dude. Deal.
And now, Sensitive Music Of Musical Sensitivity plays as Roddy explains that Lisa is teaching him the sign language alphabet. As it turns out, Danielle knows the alphabet too, and she thinks this will make a great plotting device for herself and Lisa. That seems a bit ridiculous to me, considering that these people spend so much time together that they don't seem to have trouble finding time to talk in private, which will certainly be a lot more inconspicuous than doing the sign language alphabet, which will be an immediate hint that you're plotting. Again, this seems like Danielle trying to be sneaky for sneaky's sake, which doesn't strike me as all that great a strategy, really. This segment is also our best view yet of Danielle's obsessive, annoying, and now thoroughly used-up "Roddy is the Devil" phraseology. I think "teaching sign language to the devil" should have been the RDC this week, don't you? It would have fit right into that American Idol finale.
Jason comments that the house is emptying out from its original wall-to-wall flesh configuration. "The people in this house are vanishing," he says. And by "vanishing," he means "leaving by way of the front door." Honestly, I associate "vanishing" more with the Bermuda Triangle and my car keys than I do with walking across the courtyard to the waiting, spindly arms of Julie Chen, but perhaps that's just me. The house continues to shrink as Jason whimperingly reads an announcement from production that, in an hour, the Big Bed Room will be closed for good, so they have until then to remove their items. This probably makes a certain amount of sense -- don't let them go slinking off to separate corners, continue to make them interact, and so forth. It throws the houseguests into great sadness, however, because they love the Big Bed Room. And not having the Big Bed Room means they have to sleep with the lizards. Guess who can't deal the most? Marcellas. Whine, whine, whine. Lemmings, et cetera, can't deal, et cetera, vermin, et cetera. Sometimes I just want to walk right up to him and put lint on his collar.