Outside, Jacob pouts fiercely. "I am not of that mentality," Jacob says self-righteously to Ranger Marc. Jacob complains he's wrongly being tarred with the same brush as rabble-rousers like Trevor and Mike. Impatiently, Marc urges Jacob to speak his mind. "We're a family, we're friends. You have an opinion, speak your opinion," he says, completely contravening the whole lose-your-identity message from the fireside lecture. Jacob yells that they fucked up (yeah, it was bleeped), but he's resentful because where other guys threw Jay's advice back in his face, Jacob feels he didn't. I check my dictionary to see if "Jacob" is really spelled "Hypocrite," since he was in fact the first to take a flying leap off the stage. Jacob claims he's being judged by the actions of other band members who say things that don't necessarily reflect his feelings. "So CHANGE it, J!" says an exasperated Marc. Jacob yells that he doesn't know how, that he can't speak until he catches up with the fast pace at which things are changing, and figures out what everything means. "Every day is moving so quick, I don't have time to think through how I'm going to change eight people." He's been solo since age five, Jacob brags, and here he's had only one month to grow accustomed to his unit -- I mean, to being part of a unit. "First, stop saying 'I.' You're a group, you're a one, you dance the same and sing the same," Marc says with exaggerated hand gestures. "This is not a joke, this is your one chance at the big time." Jacob repeats him. Marc encourages Jacob to stand up and change things instead of accepting this supposed fate of being wrongly represented by the more vocal guys. "You said speak, I said I can't...YET. I have not figured it out YET," Jacob rants. "I will take the reins and I will lead this group. I will not trust my career in four other people's hands if they don't feel the same way. I will bring them to whatever level I am at." Arrogant little fuck. Marc isn't through, whipping out a Zippo to really light the kindling piled under Jacob's ass. "You are not a star," Marc says. "You are not a star. You're a lab rat." Jacob counters, "Yet. I am not a star...YET." Marc: "But you're a lab rat right now. Think about it." The orchestra breaks into Confrontation in C-Minor as the Ranger storms off, leaving Jacob alone to nurse his fiery behind, stew over their altercation and finally come to grips with the reason they don't get dinner without first completing a complex maze.