Meanwhile, the D students are making another unsuccessful landing. This time Marcus skids off to the left, though, so that might be progress. Although he doesn't seem to think so.
Both of the other teams have a very wrong impression of their respective rankings; Jeremy and Sandy are all excited about closing in on an old Home Depot, while Cindy is stressing out about having heard that Jeremy and Sandy left the simulators ten to fifteen minutes before they did, "Which is not good."
Jeremy has spotted a big-box store which, sure enough, has a big sign on the front identifying it as "The Dump." Ben cuts through a parking lot to get Ernie and Cindy around some traffic. Jeremy and Sandy get off by The Dump's front door and wander in, asking, "Clue box?" And, you know, it's just a used furniture store, so there's no clue box. They stand there flummoxed for a minute before Sandy asks the employee by the door, "Is this the former residence known as The Dump?" He tells her, "It still is The Dump." So they start wandering the aisles. Too bad this is a huge store, so that could take a while. "Are we idiots and in the wrong spot?" Sandy wonders. Jeremy doesn't know. We know that Sandy's right on both counts.
Margaret Mitchell's house is a bit incongruous, what with it being a square, largish residential structure surrounded by downtown skyscrapers. That's historical preservation for you. Ernie and Cindy's cab pulls up and they collect the clue envelope from the Scarlett O'Hara waiting outside. The Roadblock question is "Who gives a damn?" You sure you want to be asking that question this season, The Amazing Race?
Cut to the inside of the house, where Phil tells us, "This is the very room where Pulitzer Prize-winner Margaret Mitchell wrote her bestselling novel, Gone with the Wind." Like she wrote other ones. There are writing desks placed around the room, each with an old Remington 3 typewriter and a stack of vellum on which teams will have to type out the next clue. Seriously, that's it? Ooh, but here's where it gets tricky: "They will soon discover there is no key for the number 1," Phil all but snickers, as the Amazing Editors paste one in next to the 2 in a close-up of the keyboard. "And they will need to use the lower-case "L" in its place." I honestly wonder how long it would take me to remember that. I used to write stories on my mom's old Royal when I was in grade school, and by "write stories" I mean "spend an hour trying to center the title page and chapter headings" and "try to use words that would result in a justified right margin." The remaining racers are all younger than I am, though. It's too bad Bill and Cathi aren't still around. That has nothing to do with typewriters, mind you, I just wish they were still around. There's a guy in a Colonel Sanders suit who will decide if they've typed it perfectly. Phil rips a sheet of paper out of the carriage and declares, "They will have their next clue." I'm really dating myself with my casual use of old-timey terms like "carriage," "sheet," and "paper," aren't I?