So we get shots of the men getting late-night beers, and shots of the women, pajama-clad and sleepy, studying and quizzing each other.
Well, not Carrie. She's decided enough punishment is enough, and since Ramsay isn't around, she's going to flirt with Brendan. She tells him that she's broken many hearts, and he says "I have no doubt," and the two of them are oblivious to the stinkeye being sent in their direction by the other women. "I am not a prude, but seriously, what the fuck is up?" Jennifer asks us. Elizabeth says she doesn't think Carrie's priorities are in order.
Sure enough, Carrie gives Brendan a hug and heads off to bed, but then calls Brendan into the hallway -- everyone gives him the hairy eyeball as he faux-nonchalantly strolls over to the sound of the booty call -- where she coyly tells him she's not getting any exercise. "Well, I'll figure out a way for you to burn calories," he tells her, and they head off into her room. "What a stanka-dank skank!" Elise tells us, laughing.
So the next morning, the men are up early to prep, displaying an exuberant overconfidence, after their bonding experience in Palm Springs. What, did they kill someone up there and swear never to tell anyone? "The wolfpack is definitely fuckin' howling tonight, man," Jonathan tells us, and then he helpfully shows what "howlin'" means.
Meanwhile, the women have stopped squabbling, and Elise seems to have taken charge. They're breaking up into groups to master the menu, and familiarizing themselves with the equipment at each station. With fingernails that shine like justice and voices that are dark like tinted glass. They're fast and thorough, and sharp as a tack! They're touring the facilities and picking up slack!
Ramsay tells James to open the restaurant. It's 6:13 p.m. and Ramsay has decided to ease pressure on the kitchen by choosing two items to serve tableside. Will and Carrie will be doling out Caesar salad while Krupa and Monterray will be carving prime rib.
So the orders start coming in, and Jennifer manages to screw up the brisket salad. Not a good start. But it's too early for the griping to set in, and Gina encourages her to shake it off. Over in the blue kitchen, the appetizer station is humming along -- well, except for Chino, who's struggling to produce risotto, and isn't even answering Ramsay or his teammates when they ask him how long it's going to be. "Chino reminds me of a chipmunk on meth," Brendan tells us, which I think may be the tagline for this fall's new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. His first risotto is overcooked. His second one is also burned. "Chino, what the fuck is going on?" Unfortunately, it's going to take eight more minutes for the next risotto. "If you burn me that risotto, one more time -- look at me -- I'll drag you out of here," Ramsay promises him