Even less mature, however, is how pissed off everyone else is when they find it on the morning of Day 3. One of the boys had really bad handwriting, though, so I'd just be like, "What is 'BIVE?'" I'd be going all over town asking people, "Does anyone know what 'BIVE' is? Is that another word for 'gay' or something?" One of the younger kids on the Yellow team takes aside his Blue contemporary, nine-year-old Alex, who drops the dime on Greg and Blaine, not that anyone's going to do anything about it. Although it probably stings for Greg and Blaine now, to see a nine-year-old on national television calling them immature. Mike boasts, "They think that they can do whatever they want. But I'm going to show them." "Showing," in this case, consisting of standing on one of the building's porches and glaring while some old-west guitar strums on the soundtrack. Revenge plots on Deadwood moved faster than this.
Guylan (eleven, Red, from Massachusetts) tells us, "If anyone tells you it's easy living in Bonanza City? Slap 'em across the face because they're a smackdown liar." And here is where we meet the city's forty-first resident, which is its single outhouse. Think about that. Forty kids. One potty. And anyone who thinks kids can't produce has never changed a diaper. "I hope that I don't have to take a poo, because I am not ever using that thing," Jared vows. For thirty-seven more days? His eyes are going to turn brown.
Hey, Jonathan's back in town! He rings the bell outside the chapel, gathering all the kids. He remarks about how tough it is being there, and singles out Jimmy. "Are you missing your parents?" he asks, fairly kindly. Jimmy admits that he is. "I think we probably all miss our parents, right?" Jonathan says. Because apparently landing this gig meant that he got to move into his own place or something. Somewhere behind Jimmy, Greg nicely asks him to be his new wingman. "Who is it?" Jimmy asks without turning around. "Greg," Greg says. "No," Jimmy says, which is awesome. Everyone laughs, including Greg.
Jonathan says it's time to get more organized, and the kids agree, which is the first time in history that has happened. We see that they're facing a big wooden job board that's about ten feet high. It includes storekeeper gigs, including one at "a soda saloon where root beer costs a nickel," as Jonathan says. Or about a dollar in 1885 money, but never mind -- he had them at "soda saloon." He gets ready to explain how they're going to buy stuff. "Don't worry, I know my mom's credit-card number," stage-whispers one kid. Jonathan forces himself to smile indulgently before explaining the job board. It's divided into four levels: "Laborers" get ten cents for doing stuff like hauling water and cleaning latrines; "cooks" get twenty-five cents for, presumably, cooking; "merchants" get fifty cents for running the stores, and the "upper class" gets a dollar. They don't have assigned chores, but they can pitch in wherever. Yeah, these kids might as well learn now that the harder you work in this world, the less you get paid. So how do they decide who does what? Showdown! District vs. District (vs. District vs. District)! Jonathan hands out burlap sacks containing the "uniforms" that they'll all have to wear for the showdown. Because the colored bandannas aren't identifying enough.