Back at the apartment, Casey chills out with a sandwich while the rest of the teams get together to discuss their strategy. Out on the terrace, Howie and Joey From New York bitch about her, "What has she got to worry about? She's got fucking Immunity." Casey takes an extra big bite of her sandwich. Joey From New York goes inside to call Casey out to the terrace. Casey freezes with her mouth full of sandwich and gestures wildly with the exaggerated patience of a parent talking to a drooling four-year-old, "Let me eat and then I'll come out there." Howie tells us that Casey's not going to lose sleep over the challenge. Casey, sandwich in tow, joins her team outside. Dramatically and with lots of emphatic head bobbing, Casey insists they don't have time to make homemade pasta. Howie tells us that he doesn't think Casey should be making any of the decisions. The thing is, if Casey didn't contribute at all and just let Howie and Joey From New York decide everything, wouldn't they then bitch that she was not helping? Casey rearranges her legs on the bench and says -- again, dramatically -- "You know, I cannot argue because I have not seen the QUALITY of the PRODUCT. I'm listening to you but I'm just saying --" To us, Casey smoothes down her hair and fingertips her temples for emphasis when she says, "No one's really listening -- we're all just sort of aggravated that we're having to work with each other right now." Casey leaves the boys to go "lay on the bed and think." The inside of her eyelids have lots of cooking tips. Howie sighs that he's nervous, which gets a big, sympathetic, wheezy chuckle out of Joey From New York. Aw, he's kind of cute. I mean, he's a blow-hard and a whiner, but he's clearly trying hard to put his issues with Howie behind them.