The kids show Lori and Nicole and Mike the Tioga and they carp on how trashed it is and then Mike infers that the kids must all hate each other because they do, but Ellen breaks his poor dumb heart by lying that they all get along very well. Katie floats that they all like each other while the RW-ers fight; she reads a cue card: "That house is just turmoil." She giggles. I yawn. My cat twitches, dreaming of chewing through the screen door and being free of this B/M-infested hell-hole once and for all.
All the kids eat and lounge and then receive a trophy and a clue, while Blair voice-overs, as if he's talking about some solemn history, that last year was the first challenge between Road Rules and The Real World and last year RR won and it's their job to defend that. The clue says that they must all travel to a location where they'll enter into a best-of-three tournament. Blair floats that there is no way they can lose because they're so tight as a team right now, as Malik drops some prop comedy on our shit and mimes drinking out of the big trophy. The funny thing is that his 'fro is so damn big it's all smushed into the camera lens.
Night. 3:30 AM. The Real World boys sneak out to the Tioga and trash it, painting, shaving creaming, and TP-ing it. Malik even crawls on top of the RV, and it's total bullshit that the kids inside wouldn't feel it rocking. Look at me, getting all indignant and grumpy. I'm seventy-three. They finish and congratulate themselves. I would congratulate them, too, but I'm far away.
Morning. The shit is fucked. Painted and the door locked and shit. Adam, again sounding this crap bell of ancient tradition and honor, floats that the Real Worlders shouldn't have "disrespected" their entire team like that. He goes on to say that it's just giving him fuel. Blair says, "Payback's a bitch." And...commercials. Already? This is like the best day ever!
The RR boys decide to fill up pots of pool water and go sneaking into the Real World boys' rooms, shirtless. They're all shirtless, sneaking into boys' rooms. You make the call. Blair floats that they're doing it to congratulate them on a good job with the TP. They sneak into the room. Pour water. Malik screams, sharing a bed with Kevin. (That would make me scream, too.) "Let the games begin," doofuses a dry Mike. Kevin sputters, staying in bed, his cancer getting very angry at the rude wake-up.