Except Emilie, who sits alone in the Red bunkhouse and interviews that it upset her when everyone ate the chicken, and that being there is making her sad. "I've had it," she says. Oh well, that just means 5.26% of a chicken for everyone else instead of 5.13% of a chicken.
After the break, we come back to Day 6. And it's a cold one, by all appearances. And by the general whining. And by the fact that a laundry tub full of water has frozen solid, with people's clothes in it. A kid pokes ineffectually at the clothes-sicle with a pole. Being from Minnesota, I'm the first to mock people who huddle in their ski jackets the moment their breath becomes visible, but I don't envy these kids dealing with literal freezing temperatures without central heating to retreat to. Everyone mills around the mess hall before breakfast in their full winter clothes and flannel pajama pants. Sophia interviews that she's been doing all the cooking, instead of the Yellow team. And what's the Yellow team doing? Well, we see Taylor and some other kids on the Yellow team just sitting in their bunkhouse, giggling in their sleeping bags like it's a slumber party while the rest of the town complains in the mess hall. Zach (10, from Florida), miserably apologizes to everyone on behalf of his entire district, of whom he currently seems to be the only representative in the kitchen. As he mopes back to his team's bunkhouse, he says his team should be in the kitchen. "And I just feel horrible. Taylor just encourages them to not do anything." Zack stands in the doorway of the Yellow bunkhouse and says, "They're waiting for you in the kitchen." Taylor snots that she doesn't want to go to the kitchen. During an interview on a much warmer day, Zach says that Taylor's giving the whole team a bad reputation. I don't know about that; Zach seems like a decent kid, even if a little righteous indignation might serve him better than the Eeyore routine.
Meanwhile, Michael and another kid are walking to the pump outside of town to fetch water for the morning. They have to walk across the exposed, windswept desert to get there, and when they do, the pump handle won't even move. The mechanism has frozen solid. I don't care how old you are, that suuuucks. "We should probably tell the cooking people to start conserving water," Michael muses, as they steel themselves for the long, cold walk back. Well, at least they won't be any more burdened than they were on the way out.
They present themselves back in the kitchen, advising everyone to save water until they figure out a way to get the pump unfrozen that doesn't necessarily require the involvement of a little something that I like to call June. Sophia interviews that they need water. Mike interviews that they need water. We get it. You get it. Anyone who has ever gone through a kitchen remodel and had to get their cooking water from the bathroom gets it. Michael and his fellow water carrier round up the third member of their crew and decide to try pouring boiling water down inside the pump. I think this is a really dumb idea. First of all, they have to get a big bucket of water heated up on the stove. Which, okay, they do. And then they have to carry it all the way to the pump in the freezing wind without it losing all its heat. Which, admittedly, is also something they accomplish. And then they have to try and get the hot water down into the pump's mechanism to free it up from the ice inside without spilling too much of it on the ground. Which I have to once again confess is fairly successful. But even so, if this doesn't work, they've just got that much less water. So it's a good thing it works. Thank God these ignorant teens don't have wise, thirty-seven-year-old me there to give them advice like trying to build a fire around the pipes or something. We see Mike out in the windy street telling Laurel how impressed he is with Michael's leadership and ingenuity, and Laurel doesn't disagree. This is because she, like the pump up until a minute ago, is frozen solid. Gather some kindling!