Lee-Ann continues, "I just want to say 'thank you, girls,' because whatever you were trying to do, I ended up here. I am compatible with Bob and I'm about to prove them wrong." The producers then cut away before Lee-Ann has a chance to deliver her parting shot, a forty-five minute maniacal laugh of the "MWAH HA HA HA HA" variety while rubbing her hands together in an evil, French villain kind of way, followed by her tying the other nine girls to train tracks in accelerated black and white, and finally demanding a payment of rent from someone, despite that person's repeated entreaty that they cannot pay the rent. I mean, why even bother with the big-ass honkin' brush if all she's going to do is cover her hair with a tall, black, stove-pipe hat? She's the bad guy. And evil. And we get it.
Several of the girls sit downstairs, masterfully method-acting the stage direction "not helping Lee-Ann get ready." Two girls (Antoinette and Meredith?) sit on either side of the Million-Dollar Date Box (itself looking all chill with the ladies and angling for a spinoff of its own, or at least a recurring guest spot on The Ellen DeGeneres Show), while two other girls (Estella and, um, someone else?) take up exactly one-billionth of The Ottoman That Ate Cleveland, not even knowing that there's another person on it with them, and in fact each thinking she might be lost at sea, so much does the size of that thing mess with your perception about the size of anything else besides itself. But upstairs, a surprise ally has come to Lee-Ann's rescue, as we find The Silent Movie Non-Storyline Formerly Known As Karin helping the devil into her blue dress. Karin removes grandma rollers from Lee-Ann's hair and jokes, "Oops, I spilled red wine on it!" And it's a good thing that Karin wasn't within a Firestone Vineyard's length of an actual glass of wine there, because I could totally see Lee-Ann missing the joke and freaking out, counterpunching with a conveniently-located vat of acid, which goes right into Karin's eyes amidst a ranting bellow of, "You keep your hands off my man. You're against me! You're ALL AGAINST ME!!!" You leave her alone, Lee-Ann. I'll pay the rent.
Because "reality dating television shows" and "examining the manmade construct of time" are practically inextricable from one another, it's no surprise that Karin's central plot at this point is "telling us that this is when she told Lee-Ann that she was running out of time to prepare for her date." Way to lay it on the line emotionally, is all I'm saying. Karin tells us that she and Lee-Ann "have bonded," and that she felt like she had to help out in Lee-Ann's time of need. Downstairs, meanwhile, they feel exactly the same way, except the opposite. Jenny is afloat on the ottoman (also replete with a hyena, a gorilla, a Bengal tiger, and The Booker Prize...and she doesn't even know any of them are there), telling the girls on the couch, "I thought it was a joke that her jewelry was worth a million [dollars]." Yeah. That's a pretty good joke. Meanwhile, the Million-Dollar Date Box is too bling bling even to have to say a word. Why is just sitting in the middle of the couch like that? It looks insane.