Meanwhile, Sam is still packing. All of the girls -- Lacey and the supersluts included -- go to convince Sam that she should stay. Sam says that it's nice but weird. The supersluts tell her that they weren't trying to make her feel bad; they were just trying to get to know her. It's like on Top Model when they get someone to be really mean to the girls just to see how they react and then they're like, "Just kidding! You were actually being interviewed by the ghost of Gandhi! Isn't he a card?" They tell Sam that they really like her. Lacey interviews that she's going along with the "Save Sam" campaign so that she can look good in front of the supersluts. Sam is more conflicted than ever. Again. I just want to take a pregnant pause, look at Sam, and go, "Dun dun dun dun dun dun...motoring!" What's Sam's price for flight in finding Mr. Right? Dignity, and a catbag free of bumps and redness. And WILL she be all right tonight? It remains to be seen. The supersluts tell the girls that they'd like to talk to the two of them they think are the least good for Bret. This would be Lacey and Brandi. Lacey thinks this is crazy, and can't believe that she's been put into this situation. Lacey uses the passive voice A LOT.

Meanwhile, tattoo parlor!!! Heather is putting her fate into the hands of Albert Sgambati, a man with Eddie Munster's hairline who is wearing a checked shirt and vest and has worked with the likes of Mickey Rourke. I'm just saying. To Albert's credit, he kind of smirks, closes his eyes, and nods when he hears that Heather wants to get Bret's name on her neck. Heather is nervous, but doesn't want Bret to know. Bret interviews that if Heather goes through with this, it will impress the living shit out of him. And this, a chorus of six tiny Bret heads tell us, is because a tattoo is for life! For life! For life! For life! Poor Heather is too enchanted by the his-and-hers bandanas that she and Bret are sporting to hear these cautionary voices clearly.

As Bret positions himself at cleavage level and grabs Heather's hand, he tells her not to move too much. He says that the tattoo will look beautiful, and tells her that it feels erotic. Heather interviews, "'Erotic' my ass, this shit is gonna hurt." We cut away as the needle strikes Heather's skin. Her response? "Oh my hell! Uuuuhhhh!" Say goodbye to updos, my dancing friend. Bret tells us that, as they were holding each others' arms and Heather was getting his name tattooed on her neck, he and Heather had a very close moment. Tattoos give Bret boners. I'm sure you are surprised. And then, the deed is done, and Heather has "Bret" written in Renaissance Faire lettering on the back of her neck. Ye Olde Brette Tattooe. She thinks it's hot AND dainty. In all fairness, the Hollywood sign would look dainty on that tree trunk that connects her shoulders to her head. Heather is proud of herself, noting that none of the other bitches would step up and get Bret's name tattooed on their body. What a bunch of stupid idiots they are! Seriously, though, if Bret didn't bang Heather after that, she should sue.