Tami and Celeste, in their usual ultra-passive way, randomly wander toward the lady who said she would help them; the lady then runs into her friend, who is the local press secretary, who introduces them to some travel dude who puts them up in a hotel. Celeste sits down and says, "I think I'm in a suite." Recovering bimbo, my ass.

Lando drags his seasick self up to a crappy little lounge to sing. For about a minute, all we see is a shot of him singing -- not tunelessly, but not exactly wonderfully either. I guess he's pretty good. Calrissian yells, "Wooo!" He could be singing just to her and the Russian date-rapists. It's that intimate. Oh, wait -- I was right; no one is actually there. Lando sings, the band limps along, and then it's over. NBC, proud as a suck-cock!

Joe and Courtland, sitting in a tree, not. Courtland limps back to Joe -- who's stretched out on some steps -- and goes over hotel prices. They could also stay in Putin Square. Courtland says he's "cool with" whatever Joe wants to do. Joe seems more bent on getting Courtland to make a decision than he is on making one himself. "Make your point, then I'll tell you if I agree with you or not." Guys, is that a gay bar over there? Bamp. Only no, it isn't. Courtland laughs exhaustedly as Joe passive-aggressively tries to get him to make up his mind. "Now we're in your court; where are we staying?" Oh my god, would someone just drive? Joe is totally a bottom. Courtland gets up and sits about eight feet away, pouting, "I could wait all night; I could care less." Oh my god, what babies. I pity their significant others. Or should I say "Daddies"? I bet Joe never asks his Daddy to stop hitting him.

Almost in Japan, Lando mulls over the fact that it may be harder to finagle plane tickets than it's been to get the ship and train tickets. You know, post September 11th, this show just cannot happen. Do you hear me, NBC? It just makes no sense to carry on. Get to work making a good comedy show and leave this reality crap alone. Or even reruns of travel-themed comedies. Anything, please. Lando goes on to say that they've hit up everyone on board for cash and won't stop at using Calrissian again as man-bait. Calrissian clings to one Russian patsy and says he's going to come to live with her in America. He puts them in a cab to the train station, and Calrissian jiggles and giggles and hugs him goodbye. I guess Celeste really is an ex-bimbo, since this never occurred to her. Oh wait, it did. But I guess the idea left her lips and then her brain. Go, Calrissian.