One the one hand, Terry wins immunity again through yet another strength challenge, which could not be more boring. Furthermore, he is once again luckier than anyone, ever, because he gets to win the car by competing against half as many people as you'd usually have to. On the other hand, a split vote is planned for practically the first time ever, as Cirie decides that the only way a likable person stands a chance to survive to F2 is to get rid of the cannon fodder everyone else is saving for F2. Thus do Cirie, Aras, and Chiclets get rid of Courtney, while Terry and Courtney think it's on to get rid of Aras and Shane thinks it's Chiclets all the way. The surprise on the faces of Shane and Terry when their chosen F2 partner gets the boot is almost enough to make up for the fact that we're marching toward some kind of really dumb F2 that many of us already feel confident we're going to dislike.
Previously on Intestinal Fortitude: Cirie took Chiclets and Aras on a spa day, and Terry went to Exile Island, but Shane and Courtney stayed home long enough to load Bruce onto the emergency boat after it turned out that "What crawled up his ass and died?" was, for the first time in the history of Survivor contestants, kind of a serious question. Ultimately, by the time the spa people returned, all that was left to do was listen to Jeff Probst solemnly explain that Bruce would not be back, but at least he wasn't going to explode, which was a good thing.
We fade up on Gitanos, Day 28. The team is rattling around camp, as Aras prepares to go fishing with hermit crabs. Because he's the daddy. But Terry is the really big daddy, and he's out in the water fishing, as well. Whichever one of them gets a fish first may marry the village's fairest lass, and shall not be denied. Aras explains to us that the tribe is pretty much running out of food at this point, so there's not much choice but to figure out how to catch fish or start chewing on trees. As for Terry, he sensitively explains that Bruce's exit was a good thing for him, because he "got to skip a challenge." Considering that Terry pretty much needs all of them, it was a good thing. He totally means to add, "Not that I would see anyone's hospitalization as entirely a boon to me." But he forgets to say it. He's sorry! He claims that it's "really imperative to make some allies" and to try to drag a couple of Casayans into some kind of a deal. This, he would like you to think, is the first time that this has occurred to him, despite the fact that almost every week starts with Terry saying that now -- NOW! -- is the part where his big plan to make friends will get underway. Any minute now, he's going to start swaying people. Any. Minute. Now.
Shane strolls into camp. He throws down a big log. (Ew, no, not in the Bruce-is-jealous way.) He pulls a piece of wood out of his back pocket. (Ew, you have a dirty mind.) The piece of wood is a flat thing, about the size of a pack of playing cards. Or, as it happens...a Blackberry. "Uh-oh," Cirie observes. "Shane's going on his thinking rock with his Blackberry." So not only has Shane retained the Thinking Seat, but now he has paired it with his imaginary Blackberry made of wood. Shades of the coconut phone! I entirely support the creation of imaginary doodads. If I were out there, I would make an iPod out of seed pods, and then I would say "Get it? Pod?" to everyone, twenty or so times a day until I was voted off. We watch as Shane holds the Woodberry in his hands and makes key-punching motions with his thumbs. He tells us that he was wandering around, and he found this piece of wood, and it was just like a Blackberry. You know, except that it's a piece of wood. Not that I don't have several dead electronic toys that are little more than pieces of wood at this point. (Hello, phone I dropped into a bowl of salsa! Hello, iPod Shuffle that randomly stopped being able to hold a charge!) He tells us that he picked up the piece of wood and kept it, and he uses it for texting, email, phone, and browsing the web. In an acoustic sort of way, of course. I wonder if he's reading recaps on that tiny thing. Maybe so. I have occasionally read recaps on my cell phone, and since I favor American Idol recaps, you can imagine how long that takes. Shane tells us that whenever he thinks of something he wants to tell his partner, or his son, or whoever, he just tells them. "It's actually helped my day," Shane says. "I'm communicating with people not on this island." I suspect those people find Shane a lot less annoying when they can't actually hear him and aren't, you know, aware that he's talking to them, so it's kind of win-win all around. For her part, Chiclets finds the whole thing "a little strange." Shane shows us how he goes through the addressing and sending process without the benefit of buttons or batteries. It's kind of like the heartwarming ending of The Grinch Who Robbed Best Buy. "He's nuts," Chiclets interviews.