Katie tries to make a list of names for them. All the names they suggest are lame: "Unstable," "Plan B," "Afterlife," and "Planet X." Then Chris decides to bitch at Bryan about drinking at that party Chris threw so that Bryan would drink and Chris could worry and act mawkish about it. Chris takes him outside and acts like the mommy of the world, refers to "a scariness" that came out of Bryan last night, and generally talks in some wildly holier-than-thou circles. Bryan explains under this barrage that there was no such scariness, and then starts crying about how being at a party is fun and he hasn't felt famous in a really long time. He thanks Chris for lecturing him on camera like a big stupid mommy, and this causes Chris to scream and yell at him some more with a bunch of recovery rhetoric he doesn't even believe. It goes on forever. Bryan finally almost falls asleep. I think I have fallen in hate with Chris Kirkpatrick. He's so much worse than Timmons.

Katie has booked their first gig, and it's in three days. They will sing one song during an Orlando Magic halftime show. This song is theoretical. Chris alone is excited by this, interviewing that they don't even have a song, which is kind of a bad thing. Rich from LFO points out that four boyband guys in the middle of a basketball game is like totally horrible to contemplate. Katie doesn't care, she just tells them life is high-risk and that tossing herself merrily into their unprofessional wake is her version of collapsing in on herself and her career like a dying star. Cox begs them to say they're professionals; they halfheartedly agree. Cox is kind of amazed by their entitled cluelessness. Jeff whines and complains and bitches and moans some more. Rich from LFO shits himself and admits that this often happens when he is nervous or startled. Not a joke; reality. He really in reality says this. Everybody laughs uncomfortably. I would like to slap him silly just out of the blue and see what he does. I would like to make Rich from LFO cry.