Food flurry. Mia knocks her container of salt into the sand. She annoys me later, so I'm happy about this until I realize she's probably allowed to go back for more. Cliff bitches about sand getting everywhere. Marcel and Mia jockey for space on their fire pit. From what we see, it looks like Marcel puts his skillet down and Mia just moves it completely out of the way, so she can put hers down in its place. Mia says something about it being her "area." "Dude, that's where my pan was. I put my pan down," Marcel says. "I'm gonna move it," Mia tells him, "I'm just letting you know." Well, isn't that NICE of you? Marcel tells us he wasn't sweating Mia and her musical skillets. Mia reminds us, "I cook for cowboys and I'm a professional barbecue-ologist." Like that's a real thing. Michael suddenly realizes he's forgotten his eggs. He pronounces them "aiggs." Dude's a mess. Frank smarms to us, "Mike's like my dumb little brother. I'm actually shocked Mike's gotten this far. Actually, I'm shocked Mike even got to Los Angeles." He giggles raspily. Michael shreds his chicken and hopelessly asks, "Can anyone spare an aigg? Anyone got any aiggs?" Betty feels bad for him and hands over some eggs, telling us, "Because that's what happens in a kitchen, it's a team effort." Hey, Bitchy? Where was that team effort last week when you blamed Marcel's team effort for your bombed out brûlées? Son of Sam and Cliff hand over a few aiggs as well. Michael's stoked and announces, "Versatility, baby." I do not think that word means what you think it means.