Tijuana interviews -- not much to her substantive or grammatical credit -- that she thinks that the former Drakes work "a great deal more than what is necessary." She feels that they sometimes work just to look like they're doing something, even if it's "frivolous." I suspect that this is also true. Tijuana then, however, flies right over the cliff into indefensibility by saying that when everybody works all the time, it doesn't allow her to express herself and let her inner Tijuana run free or something of that sort. I would have been with her, you see, if she'd said, "Look, we need to cooperate on a work schedule, and Christa can't just expect to dictate to everyone what work is going to get done and when," or if she'd said, "Sometimes, they're doing work I don't think is important, and I don't feel obligated to jump in just to please Christa." When your argument against the workhorses in your tribe, however, is that they're keeping you from being fully able to inhabit your true self, you've lost me. If getting water keeps you from "being who you are," then who you are is a lazy-ass.
Lill, on the other hand, is happy as a clam with all the working, even though, as she drags a large tree up the beach, she says, "Now I know how Jesus felt." She...she does?
And now, the immunity challenge. The tribe heads for an expanse of beach where Jeff takes back the goofy-looking Supreme Cutlass from Rupert. Jeff reminds them that seven of them will be the jury and two of them will get to the final vote. Today, we are seeing the annual gang-up immunity challenge, designed to give the rest of the tribe a shot at the person they most want a chance to boot, even if that person would normally whip all their asses in an immunity challenge. This is also known as Your Chance To Get Rid Of Rupert. What will happen in the game is that Jeff will ask a series of history questions about the Pearl Islands. Every time you get one right, you get to drop a coconut in somebody else's trough. And that's not a euphemism. They all have troughs (which Jeff, by the way, somewhat hilariously refers to as "coconut holders," as if that's a standard piece of equipment), and when your trough is full (five coconuts), you're out.