Two pieces of news from the Costa Rica leg. The first is the Philimination of the lovely Gaghan family, brought on by one of those stupid needle-in-a-haystack Roadblocks that have a tendency to operate with great unpredictability. In this case, Tammy can't find the red coffee bean, and it leads to their demise. But they're awesome and classy in defeat. The other piece of news is the ratcheting up of the reasons not to like the Weavers, who reach new levels of hypocrisy, hostility, and flat-out meanness, sitting around making cracks about low members of society such as garbagemen, insulting the pinks' boobs, and repeatedly employing the word "retard" with as much hostility as possible. Oh, and they still can't talk to Spanish-speaking people without sounding like the ugliest Americans of all time. I cannot improve on the forum post by one erik97, who made the following two observations: (1) "Jesus hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors, and fishermen. He would certainly have welcomed garbagemen with open arms. But the Weavers wouldn't." And (2): "In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was neither 'righto' nor 'lefto.'"
Previously on Wow, Where Did We Put The Passports All That Time Ago?: The race finally left the country, heading for Panama, where boat drivers mean everything and skill means nothing. Oh, and the native birds are all made of wood, SHUT UP. The Paolos edged the Gaghans for a bungee-jumping Fast Forward, but Papa Bill beat out Sharon Swing-and-a-miss-ski at the baseball Roadblock, so it was the Godlewskis finishing last. They were not Philiminated, however, and lived to screech in unison another day. They also managed to run out CBS's entire annual allotment of on-screen women's underwear in one shot, resulting in a stern letter from Standards and Practices entitled "Gratuitous Panties: URGENT Please Review," in which the words "Leave some for Jennifer Love Hewitt!" were used. In other news, Mama Weaver snarled at the brothers Linz for peppering Rolly with "batta batta batta" while he was trying to hit, and continued to show all the warmth of January in International Falls. This week, the pinks will start out with no money whatsoever and no way to make money other than by opening a black-market lingerie and mosquito-proof hat boutique. (I'm just saying: They clearly produced a mosquito-proof hat. They brought it, not me.) Who will be Philiminated...next?
Credits. You know, I normally would never bring this up, and God knows I've had enough unflattering pictures of me taken to last a lifetime. But if I were going to, say, take out other teams' pictures and mock the appearance of faces and boobs and whatnot out loud on camera while, say, standing at the Yield? I would make sure that in the credits and anywhere else on the show and in my precisely parallel still photos, the portrayal of my tummy was extremely flattering and did not at all make it look like I was slouching in a manner that made me look pregnant. It's one of those where if you don't bring it up, I certainly won't, but when you open the door, it's hard not to walk through it. [BOMP.]
Commercials. It occurs to me that I don't show adequate conviction in the apparently critical battle against dust. But then...you're talking to a person who recently managed to drop her phone in a dish of salsa, so if neatness really does count, I already am in some serious hurt.
Fairly severe music returns us to Panama, where people appear to be rather busy at the moment. Phil tells us that the Panama Canal is a "marvel of engineering," and that it connects the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Which, I hope, you know already. I'm glad they came here, actually. I think for a relatively nearby country, it's less well-known than some. Americans have the whole thing like, "Um...there's a canal...and hats, I think...and doesn't Van Halen live there?" On the Pacific side, we find the Miraflores Locks, which served as the fifth pit stop. We are reminded about the mugging of the overdressed pinks, and Phil wonders whether this will be the first time in history where being mugged at the close of an NEL actually made any difference, or whether they'll "rebound from this setback." Oh, the unpredictability of it all. When will the Significance Alarm go off in this episode -- that is, when will be the first moment in which anything occurs that actually matters? Sometimes, the Significance Alarm used to go off in the previous episode, you know. Now, it rarely goes off before the third set of commercials.
The Paolos leave first, at 8:22 PM. The clue instructs them to travel to San Jose, Costa Rica. Phil explains that this will be accomplished by getting a taxi to the bus station, where they'll sign up for one of three charter buses leaving a half-hour apart. Only two teams to a bus, so that's a hard anti-bunch, and it will be followed by a drive to an active volcano where they'll get another clue. As they leave, Mama Paolo optimistically supposes that her ungrateful brats are beginning to appreciate her a little bit more, given how the race is going. Maybe they're just glad she's not Linda "Evangelista" Weaver. They look for a taxi while reviewing the "additional information" that came with the clue. Brian tells the rest of the family not to fight, but he does it in sort of a "fight and I'm going to kick your ass" kind of way, which I admire. It's like, "Don't make me ask you if I have to turn this car around, or I swear, I will turn this car around. Right! Around!" Their taxi finally arrives, just in time to avoid bloodshed.