Flight Time and Big Easy, in last place and a full Detour behind, reach the clue box outside Kryocentrum, but their clue doesn't say the same thing the others' did. "Make your way to the next Pit Stop," Flight Time reads. They grab a cab, and Big Easy says they're not done racing until Phil tells them. Flight Time adds. "We're Globetrotters, we travel the word, but all the things we've done on the race have been new to us. Experiences that we'll have for the rest of our lives. We can always look back and say that we did it." Well, except for during this leg.

Cue the memory montage over one last repeat of "Sweet Georgia Brown." Big Easy paddles his dinghy by hand. They do the Dutch dance. They lead their crowd across the Tokyo intersection. Flight Time dances on the stage of the Estates Theater. They ride their bikes, looking like buffoons. They go down the water slide in Dubai, Big Easy drags himself up the rope, and finally they dance away from the mat in Sweden.

Finally they're entering the park. "Love you, dawg," Flight Time says. "Love you too, baby," Big Easy returns. By the time they reach the mat, the model has given up and gone home and Phil's there alone. He tells them they're the last team to arrive, and Philiminates them. "Loved watching you guys race around the world, I have to say," he adds. They respond that they had a great time. Even the last four hours? Big Easy says, "Sometimes this race can tear at relationships, and I think it built ours and I love Flight Time to death, and hopefully me and him will be teammates for another twenty years, and I know we're gonna be friends forever anyway." Flight Time smiles, and in their post Philimination interview, he says they finished the race like they started it. "We're Harlem Globetrotters. We go as a team and we leave as a team. We didn't win the million dollars but the experience that we had is priceless." They hoist their backpacks and walk away from the mat, arm in arm. And Big Easy can look forward to the rest of a career that will involve autographing basketballs, jerseys, sneakers, and now, paperback copies of Metamorphosis.

M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.