So back in the Shasta now, the blue light goes off, signaling the arrival of our be-hated Road Master. Funny thing is, the blue light has been ripped off the TV and swings by its cord off the side. So the Bloated One comes on, and Holly smiles, once again eating. Always shoving something in her mouth, that one. Man, that girl must be pulling some Paula Abdul bulimia thing, or she just has the metabolism of a hummingbird on crystal. I think Holly has a weird Daddy-figure crush on the RM, the way she gets excited whenever he comes on. Or maybe it's just a unconscious reaction for Holly whenever a man speaks to her in a low, grumbly voice. "Ladies, so obsessed about body image," says RM. As we get shots of Msaada looking nonplussed, he says that tomorrow's mission might play into that fear. But, he adds, "whatever happens, remember -- Road Master loves you." Holly cackles as RM disappears. She says, "Holly's insecurities about her body. Let's see, okay. Big feet, no tits, and body hair." She laughs. Okay y'all, I'm not going to say this is charming, because I now feel stupid. I want B/M to make her unlikable again. Please? James mentions that they're going to a gym at Florida Atlantic University, so we at least know what fucking state they're in. My god are they doing a bad job keeping us oriented as to where the hell the are. Chronology is for pussies. "Nighty-night," says James, receiving twenty bucks and a copy of The Men of Rugby from B/M for trying to pimp the Road Master's lame-o catch-phrase. Is it sweeping the nation yet? Anyone have a line on that?
So the next day they drive, and arrive at the university gym. And speaking of the phonetic "gym," guess who is waiting for them as new Mission Mayor? Funnyman Jim Breuer of "Goat Boy" and Half Baked fame! What a gig for Jim. Poor Jim. I guess that Pesci impression didn't really take him as far as he'd hoped. James, meanwhile, reacts like he's meeting the Pope and Holly shakes his hand, mannishly. Man, Jim looks tired. I guess Jim always looks tired, but he looks especially tired here. So, TiredJim explains that the kids are doing a competition against another team, and that the event is worth twelve thousand dollars. Jim goes on to say that their competition might look intimidating, but not to let it scare them. So out from the back of the room comes their competition: It's the Playboy Extreme Team! Six former centerfolds who do extreme sports in some retarded Playboy Enterprises marketing ploy. (We see split screen shots of the Playboy ladies doing crappy sports, one of which I swear looks like Competitive Getting Fucked From Behind In The Water.) The look on Holly's face as they introduce themselves she's going Scaryteeth all over the place with the grimace, and as the girls explain how they make their retarded living, I suddenly realize how fucking sleazy and mean it is of B/M to have the Road Master talk about body image and then to throw them in front of centerfolds. Women have such massive problems with body image already, why the fuck would MTV, which is supposed to be all "Youth Power" and shit, play into that? ["Because MTV's idea of 'Youth Power' is Britney 'No, They're Real, Really, I Swear' Spears, maybe?" -- Sars] There is no redeeming lesson from this mission. It was just something fucking stupid that the B/M "writers" came up with for RM to say to introduce the mission. Pardon my soapbox, but I hope the girls firebomb the B/M offices when the show is done, strip Bunim and Murray naked, and have the dancers from Sisqo's Shakedown rate their bodies. The hos do a little bit of shit talking, as the two teams' trainers, Christine and Abby, come out. This sequence makes very little sense. As they talk, it seems like these two fairly pretty girls want the kids, and us, to think the mission is stripping. But they're not trying very hard. Jim occasionally tries to be funny and say something, but no one pays him any attention. Neither does Hollywood.