Ooh, no "previously". Best to just let the whole nasty "Five Horrible Episodes in South Africa" thing fade into one of those vague bad memories you end up successfully suppressing, only to have it randomly enter your consciousness one day twenty years later when you're having a bad marriage full of petty fights, and you're stuck in a dead-end job where your "team" just can't seem to work together and secretly hate each other, and you just can't remember why it all went so bad. And then in a stunning moment of clarity you find that you can indeed actually pinpoint the exact moment your life derailed and you realize with horror that it was that night you somehow decided that instead of going out and seeing friends and maybe having a moment of actually human interaction, you found yourself sitting on thirty-dollar couch from the Salvation Army, eating a bag of French Onion Sun Chips, drinking a Grape Fanta, and watching Laterrian and Theo cavort in a waterfall. And then another realization comes to you -- that if you had just stopped watching after that episode, and gone out with friends or done something creative the next week, things might have been salvaged. Indeed, there were probably a couple weeks in there where your life could have gone either way. However, on that one night, that fateful night back in October of 2000, when you didn't call the cute brunette in Marketing and instead watched the kids from Road Rules facing off in a challenge against Bunim-Murray's second worst idea ever, the group O-Town from their show Making The Band, the last nail was driven firmly into the coffin of your once promising life. And as you stand on the windowsill of your fifth-storey walk-up, the realization having come to you just that afternoon at the sports bar where you go each day after work to get a little buzz on between the hell that is your job and the hell that is your home, don't curse B/M. You said no to the friends. You turned the TV on. You grabbed those Sun Chips. Not them. Oh no, resist blaming B/M, for they did not make you watch. That mistake, was yours alone. (Besides, we all know what happened to B/M back in 2006, right? Ugly.)
Speaking of ugly, the Road Master rears his bloated head. He must not have had a bite to eat all day, because immediately he's chewing scenery like Paul Sorvino locked for a night inside the Olive Garden. The kids are in the Shasta. Quick shot of Holly rubbing her mouth and looking bored. "Road Master loves a challenge!" Don't worry. Your post-Road Rules career is going to be challenge enough, dude. "Tomorrow, I'm going to bounce you and bend you and break you!" Holly gets hot. "It's music to my ears...get it!?" he says. No. "Don't. Forget. The. Email. Nighty-night!" The Little Catchphrase that Couldn't. James goes to the iBook and closes the open browser on www.how-to-keep-your-secret-gay-southern-boyfriend-happy.com in order to check the email. He butchers a segment host from Entertainment Tonight's name as he reads that they are to meet one of Mary Hart's bitches at a dock in San Pedro, California. Aw, man. They're in my state! Shit. I mean, I've been aware of the many shitty people who reside in California -- like Charles Manson, and Suge Knight, and Mayim Bialik from Blossom (that bitch) -- but somehow they're not as distasteful to me as the notion of the Six of Suck being in my state. If they stay as long here as they did South Africa, I'm going to have to move to Idaho or something; I'm sure at least it's Bunim-Murray-free. Intro. Handsome reward. Aw man, I hate my life.