As the tribe packs up for Tribal Council, Clay tells us that the game is all about using people. He concludes, "Here we go again -- the circus has come to town," and unless the circus has a habit of using people, I don't quite follow his chain of thought, but then with Clay -- or any of these people for that matter -- I don't exactly expect to.
So the tribe piles into the Council, followed by the jury, including a particularly voluptuous and yet mannish-looking Erin. Jake appears to have borrowed one of Clay's sleeveless collared shirts.
Peachy immediately attempts to stir up some conflict by asking the five remaining Chuay Gahn members to consider that all of the jury members are from Sook Jai, and thus will control the majority of the final vote. He says that, up until now, Chuay Gahn was in complete control and able to systematically eliminate the others, but in doing so they "put [their] fate in [Sook Jai's] hands." This causes the jury members to grin and exchange proud looks with each other, which is so silly. They're there because they lost, so the fact that they have a small amount of power now is not much to brag about. Still, Peachy wants to know how it feels to know that it might be too late to affect the jurors' decisions, but really, that has nothing to do with which tribe they were initially on. In any case, Clay says that it's a scary feeling, and that he lies awake at night thinking about it. About that and the fine asses, of course. He points out that they have to vote for someone, and he hopes he's one of the final two. He then exhibits the psychosis typical of competitors on this show, launching into a third-person diatribe in which he attempts to determine the "best way for Clay to do it."
Helen admits that Sook Jai has the numbers, but points out the obvious: they have to vote, and unfortunately it will be for a Chuay Gahn member. She hopes that when it comes down to it, they'll vote based on merit and who was decent to be around.
Peachy asks whether Brian thinks his fate is sealed within his own tribe, and Brian ponders that no one's fate is ever sealed "until the fat lady sings, as I like to say." That's a pretty cool phrase Brian coined -- maybe it will make it into the popular lexicon. He says that with only a couple of days left, he can't predict what will happen.