Previously on Hit the Ball, Drag Flo: Vietnam proved to be Flo's undoing, to whatever degree she wasn't already undone. The choo-choo chew-chewed her up and spit-spit her out, the bikes knocked the Schwinn out of her, and the boats presented a Titanic challenge. (Oh, shut up, it could be worse. There was originally a "her life is a living hull" joke in that sentence, so thank your lucky stars you escaped with your life.) Come harpy or high water, however, Zen-like Zach persevered and managed to get them to the end of the leg, albeit in last place. Teri and Ian snapped and spit and sputtered along the way, but they ultimately sped into first place and spoke of their love for each other at the pit stop in a way that was right on the borderline between endearing and just plain unsettling. You know, it's surprising how fine that line really is. Ken and Gerard struggled with yet another flat tire and a few more issues relating to gravity and the proximity of one's nose to the floor, but they held on to their usual good humor and finished second. And they hit each other in the head, but we're pretty sure they didn't mean it.
No credits. Who took the [BOMP] from the [BOMP]-sh-[BOMP]...oh, forget it. You get the idea. (It's a good thing there aren't any more trivia requirements, because I was so tired of research that I was about to be reduced to looking around my apartment for things I could tell you about. There are thirty-five slats on my vertical blinds, for instance, and I own forty-five chick movies, not counting the musicals.)
It's time to eat, sleep, and mingle again, and it appears that somebody has become addicted to room service, because yet again, all the teams are in a nice hotel to rest up for the big finish. I think this is the first race where they're going to come home with backpacks full of terrycloth robes and little bottles of complimentary shampoos with those strange half-institutional, half-dreamy names like "Luxurious Host" and "Residence Moonlight." My first complaint regarding this season's final leg? Not rank enough. I want more stinking! Seriously, there should be green squiggly lines leading away from your body at this point. I want to see people so tired they can't summon the energy to comb their hair. I want to see spines that are twisted into Mobius strips from too many nights spent sleeping on benches and concrete floors. I want to see dirt under the fingernails. Seriously? More stinking.