Back at Top Chef: Just Desserts HQ, Zac starts proclaiming his imminent victory despite normally taking weeks to make a dress and only having hours. Meanwhile, Eric the lowly baker more or less admits an early defeat. Morgan is rambling about the fuck me pumps he is wearing for inspiration as he makes his sequined little black dress. Heather is getting all sentimental about sewing and talking about her childhood as an adopted child. Judge Johnny Iuzzini interrupts the stitch 'n' bitch and everyone shrieks in horror. He tells them to chillax, because he has tidings of great joy: The winner will get $20,000! Everyone shrieks again and then Johnny leaves. The competition gets fiercer.

Morgan starts degrading his mannequin, Heather calls him out for being a gross human being who calls all the ladies "honey" and "darling" and he calls his mannequin a sexy bitch to prove her point. HBH is trying to explain why she thinks turnips are a good idea and she manages not to cry during her time in the confessional so I guess the Wellbutrin has kicked in. Morgan then stands around pissing everyone off by pointing out that he is done, he knows how to work with chocolate, and he looks damn fine in his peep toe pumps. Baker Eric is the least thrilled because his whole concept involves gluing cookies onto a dress form with frosting and it is not working at all. It is pretty much sad, in fact. Let's send him an Edible Arrangement and a pot brownie to cheer him up, eh?

The next morning, HBH finds that her turnips have withered, which is probably a metaphor for something tragic. She has to revamp her entire dress with merely minutes on the clock and Zac mocking her over Ranch dressing accessories and crouton accents. Eric is near meltdown because he cookie couture looks awful and his molding chocolate bodice just won't stay on. Morgan meanwhile has gone over to the dark place of almost becoming flat out offensive as he simultaneously re-affirms his heterosexuality and continues to talk about wearing the fuck me pumps, making a matching clutch, and wanting to dry hump his mannequin. Suddenly it is go time. And everyone is rushing to set up their mannequins and petit fours. HBH obviously needs help and Morgan is willing to, but only because he knows that HBH is definitely not going to win the competition. Then he mentions how hot and sexy his chocolate couture number is (again) and then roars like a cat and suddenly I want 3-D TV so I can at least pretend to strangle him with my bare hands.