Jeff asks Twila if she ever looks back and wonders whether she was "a little rough" on a particular day. She begins her campaign for jury votes by saying, "Most definitely." She says she's made "major mistakes," and Ami gives the first patented Ami eye-roll of the evening. God, other people are so uninteresting. And they don't have integrity, and they smell bad. Twila gently tries to take a swat at the elephant in the room by bringing up her decision to swear on her son, which she knows the bastards on the jury are still holding against her. She describes herself as "very ashamed," but says she can't undo it. Jeff asks Twila what she thinks James will have to say about being sworn upon, and basically, she laughs that if she wins, he won't care. Which, of course, the stupid jurors sit there looking all condemning about, but if your mother worked the kind of hours Twila apparently does and had been taking care of you all your life, you'd be a pretty big dickhead if you didn't forgive her for a single misstep, and you would indeed want her to win, because it would mean she wouldn't have to knock herself on her ass twenty-six hours a day anymore. In other words? Cram your sanctimony, Sarge. Twila repeats, at any rate, that she certainly shouldn't have done it. So are we clear on that? She regrets it? Oh, good.
Jeff asks Chris whether he's giving up immunity -- after telling him that he would be "a fool" if he did -- and Chris (obviously) chooses to keep it. Jeff sends people off to vote. Eliza votes for Twila. "Twila, I am voting for you for the third time this game," she says. "You're like the cockroach that won't die under the refrigerator. Hopefully, you're going home tonight." I think something went wrong with that cockroach metaphor somewhere around "refrigerator," but that's all right. Scout votes. Twila votes for Eliza. "You have drove [sic] me crazy from day one. If you go home tonight, it's going to be the happiest night since I've been here. You've got a lot of growing up to do." I love the sisterhood, don't you? Chicks rule! Boys drool! Chris votes.