Back from commercials, the Council calls a vote by show of hands. The editors manufacture a dramatic pause before several kids raise their hands. And then when the book faction gets to vote, their rising hands are accompanied by angelic chimes on the soundtrack, as if the entire town is being bodily assumed into the ideal afterlife of its choice. Books it is, then. Laurel makes a conciliatory speech to the golf-voters, but says the town has spoken. In an interview, DK is philosophical: "Religious texts doesn't sound as much fun as an evening of golfing, but it's a chance to grow as a person." Tell that to your handicap.

The books and the kids relocate to the mess hall, where everyone digs through them. (The books, that is.) Zach and another kid (Hunter, I think, maybe) do a side-by-side reading of the Torah and King James versions of Genesis, respectively, and find that they're not so different after all. But let's see which of the two of them finishes his book first.

Anjay, meanwhile, is having a more solitary moment. He's appropriated an old outdoor firepit to use as a makeshift altar, while the editors have appropriated a Ravi Shankar record in order to make this as offensive as possible. Oh, wait, I spoke too soon -- here are Taylor and Kelsey and another girl from the Yellow team, watching Anjay from about five feet away and whispering to each other as he prays in what may be Hindi, not that I'm any less ignorant than they are. During a pause, Kelsey asks him politely enough about Hinduism. Anjay matter-of-factly informs her about the 330 million gods thing. "Wha -- whaaat?" Kelsey stammers, as though the bottom has just fallen out of her world. He continues his ritual, as Kelsey watches him in awe. And then she takes a turn at the altar herself after he's gone, mimicking some of the movements she saw Anjay make. I don't think she's trying to be disrespectful. But since I probably know even less about the religion than she does now, I really can't say.