Previously on I Say "All," You Say "Stars" -- "All"..."All"...Anyone?: John Vito and Jill went out early after having taking a sentimental journey back to incredibly bad luck with navigating. Drew and Kevin went home sick with the flu, with prescriptions for (respectively) chicken soup and bald triplets who will emerge from the womb, look at each other, and simultaneously say, "What is with THIS idiot?" Mary and Dave went home tired but happy. They honestly were happy just being nominated. Rob and Amber went home to begin production on their next reality show: Rob And Amber Can't Believe It Either. Ian and Teri went home rehabilitated and smoochyfaced, Bill and Joe went home to unpack the evil that they kept squashed in their backpacks the entire time, and Uchenna and Joyce just wanted to make it home before the show finished airing. Danny and Oswald ran out of steam and money, and became entangled in some kind of debate with karma in which the universe finally said "enough already" and sent them home to spread joy in the form of beautiful smiles and, in Oswald's case, appreciative handling of other people's naughty bits. So the final three were the BQs, who raced well throughout and took all kinds of crap over playing the game as if they expected to win or something; Charla and Mirna, who raced poorly throughout with the exception of an uncanny ability to find (for instance) a direct flight that would pick them up on the back of a flatbed truck outside a small town in Brazil and take them directly to a particular ice floe in Alaska; and Eric and Pink, who didn't like each other at all and raced mostly unremarkably, but who kept on avoiding elimination by working quickly so that they wouldn't have to spend any more time together than necessary. Now, three teams are left. One of them rocks hard. Two of them rock not at all. What are the odds of a happy ending? If you know the answer to this question, you are ready to graduate from fifth-grade math.
Credits. Man, this is depressing. There weren't that many teams that didn't halfway suck to begin with, and we still had about a 75 percent chance of a better ending than this. We're all cursed. [BOMP.]
Commercials. Fie ye, Two And A Half Men. I can't figure out why, but I feel like Charlie Sheen is turning into Billy Joel. Like, not on looks, but in spirit.
Hey, look! Guam! Soldiers! Marching in place and getting nowhere! It's a theatrical salute to American foreign policy! Phil reminds us that Guam is an "American military stronghold in the South Pacific." I see Joe Cable! And on the coast, we find Fort Soledad. But don't mistake it for a fort in the fort sense, considering that its sign reads "Courtesy Of Guam Visitors Bureau," and not, for instance, "Stay Back Unless You Want A Righteous Ass-Kicking, Philippines." Hot Phil says that this was the twelfth pit stop. On a race. Around the world. Involving many teams better than the ones featured here, but omitting many teams even better than the ones that were involved. If you see what I mean, which you probably don't, so let me say it this way: bad casting makes bad seasons. Period.