Previously on God To Racers: "Stick In The Mud? Not My Fault" -- Mirna and Charla led their sheep Brandon and Nicole astray, but when Brandon and Nicole righted themselves rather than following the flock on the path of righteousness until it merged into the road to Cleveland, Mirna became enraged, because people who don't follow you in the wrong direction are disgusting. Later, Mirna's battle with Marshall and Lance threatened to unseat the 1999 World Series as The Historical Conflict In Which It Is Most Tragic That Both Sides Cannot Have Their Asses Kicked. Jim and Marsha flubbed it at the airport, and although they gamely made their way through rounds of paragliding and chocolate-chomping, they were sadly Philiminated, and Jim went home to have his kneecap, currently in the custody of LAX security with a tag tied to it that reads "Property Of Older Gentleman With Snippy Daughter And Camera Crew," reattached. There are eight teams left. "Who will be eliminated next?" What, Phil, no pause? But that's when I get a drink. Wait, is this an intervention?
Credits. I think that tiger is left over from the first season. He must be getting hungry, because given his excessively calm demeanor at the time, I doubt he's mustered the chutzpah to eat anyone since then. Which is not to say I advocate the eating of monks. [BOMP.]
Commercials. I'm sorry, but the theory of camp requires that the number of layers of cheese be odd, not even. Rob Lowe plus Vegas is thus not acceptable. A Charo cameo, however, would rapidly bring things back into balance, provided nothing further, like a theme by K.C. and the Sunshine Band, is added.
We zoom back into San Carlos de Bariloche, which the music would have you believe is a major center for the manufacture of blaring horns. Phil explains, while looking oddly uncomfortable as Mirna stands off camera threatening to lick his neck, that we are at the third pit stop. And what are we here to do? Eat! (Look! Charla and Mirna are going through the buffet line, and no one is helping them!) Sleep! (Look! Brandon and Nicole are baking in the sun, really suffering through this harrowing experience!) Mingle! (Look! Colin is lecturing the room and everyone is pretending to care!) Phil wonders whether Chip and Kim will ever find their way out of last place, and whether Brandon and Nicole will keep making alliances that are mutually opportunistic and transitory. Those bastards. When will they learn that there's no "I" in "win"? There's a great shot of Brandon here accompanied by some snake-like music, but...the guy is just not threatening. It's the hair. It's like he's the evil King Mophead the Mellow, and he's here to surf the crap out of you.