Previously on Our Show's Foot! It's Getting Away! Shoot It! Shoot It!: Being forced to dislike a grieving widow, being forced to cheer for a bunch of fratty That Guys, and being forced to abandon deeply held anti-moppet convictions. All part of a little piece of history we like to call Jerry Bruckheimer's New Coke Theater.
The first thing we see is a giant mountain in what appears to be the American west, which makes me instantly afraid that we are going to spend the entire goddamn season at a succession of isolated cattle ranches trying to wring conflict out of obstinate cows and attempting a three-point turn in your grandparents' RV without knocking the "Footprints" wall hanging off the wood paneling. But once we inspect a couple of sweeping vistas, we are in the city, and then there is Phil, strolling it old-school on the roof of a big black building, telling us that we are in Denver, Colorado. Phil explains, for those of you who won prizes at the Ma Weaver Geography Bee, that we are at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and that from here, "eleven teams will embark on a racearoundtheworld." Only it comes out more like, "racearoundthe-world," because Phil knows that you are pissed off, and he is sorry, because he is no more responsible for the horror that was last season than it is responsible for his pants. He actually looks relatively normal at this point, although they should never put him in those big turtleneck sweaters, because of previously discussed soft-boiled-egg issues.
We now return to the mountain and its winding road, up which the teams are traveling in the backs of pickup trucks. Isn't that exactly the way you are sort of not supposed to ride in a pickup truck? Bumpy terrain, sitting at the edge...this entire thing could have a very early elimination not related to arrival at the mat, if you see my point. The teams are traveling to the starting line, which happens to be at the Red Rocks Amphitheatre, which you may know from a wide variety of live albums, because "Red Rocks" is the coolest thing you can put in your live album title. Except Sin-e.) Aaaanyway, you will be happy to know that each team contains two people. Two! Not two people and another two people, not two people and a bunny, not two people and a member of Congress. Two people. Who know each other. IMAGINE THAT. Perhaps we should meet them.