As he and Burton pile into the car, Jon interviews that although a month ago, he would have objected to anyone else winning the car, now he's happy for Burton. Because Burton is pretty and smart and Jon has a crush on him the size of the national debt. (No, no, not the Clinton national debt. The Bush national debt. We're talking about major love, here.) "It's kind of a cool feeling knowing I can say that and actually mean it," says Jon, rolling around in his own humanity. "Win, lose, or draw," Jon says in the car, "you're the only person that I like in this game." This makes Burton smile, but he does not reciprocate. Because it is, after all, Jon. Burton and Jon talk some more about the wicked new wheels as Burton drives down a palm-tree-lined road along the water. It really is very pretty. If I didn't hate them both, it would be an enjoyable sequence.
Burton voices over that as he and Jon drove into Panama City, they spotted a tower and made their way to the ruins. Apparently, the ruins have a very understanding groundskeeper, because they drive the Envoy right across the grass right up to the very historic ruins. A thousand Panamanian ghosts are like, "GET OFF MY LAWN, YOU BASTARDS!" They de-Envoy, and they get their first look at the feast. The feast includes suckling pig, beans, rice, marshmallows, and corn. I'm sorry, but this is the worst feast ever. Marshmallows? Where did they get this "feast" anyway, Wal-Mart? Who forgot to bring the Chex Mix and saltines? Furthermore, beans and rice? Great. Because they haven't had enough beans and rice recently at all. Despite the crappy provisions, Burton and Jon eat and seem happy. Burton makes fun of Jon for having food caught in his beard. They are so seriously the nightmare of every single woman in America, I cannot tell you. Jackasses? Check. Arrogant? Check. Food in facial hair? Check. "Good meal and good company," Burton says. "Mm-hmm, finally," Jon says, emphasizing how much he and Burton are cool and everyone else is a bunch of losers. "To the girls eatin' mussels," the Fellas smarm as they toast themselves. They chuckle as Burton explains how extremely hilarious it was to know that the women were back at camp eating mussels while they were out feasting on suckling pig and marshmallows: "Honestly, those three girls have all been riding coattails the entire time they've been on here."
Nice speech, Burton. Here's why you're an idiot: there's really no such thing as "riding coattails" in Survivor. There's only being voted out or not being voted out. If Sandra "rode the coattails" of Rupert, he rode the coattails of Sandra just as much. What made them strong was their alliance, and they were equally part of it. To find safety in numbers, Rupert relied on Christa and Sandra just as much as they relied on him. "Riding coattails" means benefiting from someone else's being good at something despite the fact that you are not good at it. But entering into alliances with other people -- especially people who will eventually be bigger targets than you are if it comes down to that -- is a skill in this particular game. Therefore, there's no such thing as creating a strong alliance that keeps you in the game, but nevertheless not being good at the game. An alliance with someone who will remain loyal to you and then obligingly get himself voted off (*cough* Rupert *cough* Ryan-O) is actually the best thing you can have going for you, strategically, and it's a damn sight smarter than running your mouth in such a way that you become Public Enemy #1 in the eyes of half of your tribe. So Burton, seriously. Shut. Up.