Morning comes on Day 22 at Camp Balboa, Land of the Free, Home of the Merged. Rupert is playing at the fire while everyone sleeps. Everyone, that is, except Lill, trouper of the troop, who's up with the dawn working alongside Rupert. She says, as she plucks something out of the water, that she feels really good -- it's "the difference between night and day." Or between the Camp of the Damned and the Land of Plenty, as the case may be. Lill explains in a mini-interview that she turned on Morgan to boot Andrew, knowing as she did that they would have sent her home at the first opportunity, discarding her like a camp song at the end of summer session. Nobody sings "On Top of Old Smokey" in November, after all. No: in the great tradition of girls who have great personalities, Lill would have been left at home on the night of the big dance, told that while she was a super lady with a fine work ethic, she was destined to sway alone to the strains of "Careless Whisper," wondering why she alone was unlovable. She further explains that while stabbing people in the back would typically make her feel guilty, in this situation, she feels like she did the only thing she could to protect herself. Seriously, if she's implying that she would even consider feeling guilty about ridding the camp of Andrew, I'm going to take my teeny tiny pocketknife and stab her with the nail file attachment. I might even break out the plastic toothpick. It's very menacing -- ask anyone in airport security. Now we see Lill give Christa a big hug as she explains to us with relief that she's no longer "The Cincinnati Workhorse," which I'm sure will come as a rude surprise to...well, to whoever thought that was her name. The guys on the pro wrestling circuit, maybe? Her smooth jazz ensemble?
Now we see Lill in a conversation with Rupert, in which she becomes downright maudlin, talking about how much the hugs and kindnesses of Drake have caused her to "blossom" in this cold, cold world. Apparently, she either doesn't know that the former Drake is a band of contemptible suck-ups, or she doesn't care. Or, I suppose, she knows that she blossoms in the presence of contemptible suck-ups -- in which case there might be a place for her in politics or show business if she ever wants out of scouting. Rupert makes a very weird, googly-eyed face when she's talking, as if he's trying to transmit a telepathic message. Probably "look deeply into my beeeeeard...you do not want to vote for me." Hey, it could work. Lill assures him that whatever Drake decides, she's with it. She's part of the team! She's on board! She's toeing the line! She's walking the walk! She's shaking it like a Polaroid picture! Okay, not that last one. Thank God.