At Tagi, Sean says that Susan is driving everyone crazy with her work ethic. He should have spent some time with B.B.! Sean also says that he's talked to "the guys" about it and that they all agree. Sean is the male Stacey; he thinks talking shit about other people will actually make them shit, when it only serves to draws attention to his own shittiness. Susan tells us she's looking for nuts and tapioca. We then switch over to a shot of Sean lolling on his shovel saying, "I had this vision and, uh, I thought I'd build myself a bowling alley right about here. That's what I'm doing here slaving away." We then see Susan and Kelly rooting about in the mud, and what the editors are doing here is setting up a little comparison. Tricky, those editors. Sean continues to ramble on about "little shelves" for the "extra balls to hang out in," and Susan drawls, "Sean's telling me looking for nuts is a waste of time. But at least you know you can find a nut." I have no idea what that means, but I got the general point. She adds, "Sean sits there and fer [sic] five hours and builds a bowling alley. He could be out gettin' nuts or looking for tapioca during the day." In other words, he could be doing exactly what Sue does. Sean tells us, "My parents would be so proud." Because I'm so sure building a bowling alley on a desert island and trying to pass it off as useful beats receiving a medical degree.
We see the treemail segment. Again. Just Peachy tells us that the name of the next challenge is "Distress Signal," just as I'm about to send up one of my very own. He explains that each team will build an S.O.S., and the winner will be determined by a plane flying overhead, which will drop in a crate of supplies to the victors. Each team sends a member to check out the booty; Target can urge us to bounce and gets together all it wants, but this is not making me happy, and it's certainly not making me smile. The crate is full of towels, hammocks, and toilet paper. Dirk stand with his fingers tucked into his armpits like Mary Katherine Gallagher. Jenna requests a spice rack to be added to the prize and Dirk wants a filet knife to take care of Richard once and for all.
Back at Pagong, we learn that the clue has come in the form of another terrible poem. One line reads, "toilet paper to wipe your bum," and right about now you should be on your knees thanking me for sparing you the rest. Gretchen wants to light a quick bonfire and Colleen starts spazzing out because this is her gig, it's "like, advertising." The team argues over what sells and Greg's answer is, "Sex, naked people," which is funny, because I thought cocophones were the wave of the future. Colleen adds, "We're trapped on a desert island, you know, we're horny." And I'm so happy right now for B.B. that he is spared thirty-six days or so of this mind-numbing conversation.