Anyway, the bored houseguests decide that they're going to have what Tonya calls a "bikini contest," which Amy transforms into a "pageant." (If this is the result of these people lacking for leisure activities, I desperately hope the next luxury competition will allow them to win a game or something. Ker-plunk would be good. Or Hungry, Hungry Hippos.) Anyway, it's sort of a combination pageant and fashion slam, because you aren't allowed to wear any actual clothes -- you have to bikini yourself up using unconventional materials. Wow, it's like the arts and crafts class at Porn Camp! ("After the bonfire this evening, we will be conducting a class called 'You Can Make More Than Fire By Rubbing Two Sticks Together,' so bring your massage oil and a lanyard.") Marcellas comments that he really wasn't too interested in the whole deal, but then "cute little Jason" asked him to help design a bikini for him, and Marcellas thought he could possibly get motivated for that. Heh. The women participating (Chiara, Tonya, and Lisa) work on their bikinis, originally trying to work something up entirely made of flowers. When this doesn't work, though -- and I'm sorry if you have delicate eyes or are currently eating, especially if you happen to be eating lunch -- they run a row of flowers around their middles and down the back, but up front, they cover up their most not-ready-for-prime-time areas with peanut butter. Peanut. Butter. So we get to see Chiara, Tonya, and Lisa standing around with silverware, smearing each other up. You know, I think the live-feed-watchers thought you might not see the hot girl-on-girl peanut butter action during the family hour. Oh, how perilous it is indeed to underestimate the pure, unadulterated, bottom-feeding, scum-sucking, nauseating, oozing shamelessness of this show. ["Not for nothing is CBS known as the Tiffany Network." -- Wing Chun]
The women emerge from the house into the back yard, to much appreciative hooting and hollering. Tonya dismissively comments that it's not like there was anything inappropriate going on, so she clearly cannot understand why anyone was even remotely surprised by her wandering into the back yard with nothing but peanut butter protecting CBS from the FCC. "We were completely covered," she says, nearing indignation. "What were they gonna see? The cheeks of our butt [sic]?" In case you're wondering, "completely covered," according to Tonya, appears to mean "able to appear at strip clubs without being arrested, even in Mississippi." Although I have to say, I think many municipalities would not allow peanut butter as a covering. Anyway, Jason comments uncomfortably that it was certainly fun and he was appreciative, but that the peanut butter was a little much. Or...not enough, really. "I would have liked to have seen them wearing a little more than the peanut butter, um...certainly." He offers a pretty funny delivery of that line, actually -- very shy and baffled. At any rate, the girls frolic in their peanut butter and flowers until Lisa's bikini starts melting, at which point they go inside.