Commercials: "Get Tim Gunn's take on Top Design right after this episode!" I didn't tune in, but I'm guessing it was some variation on "Man, thank God my show doesn't suck rocks like this one."

When we return, Michael and Andrea are up and at-'em at zero-dark-thirty to pick up flowers for their respective teams. Michael wants flowers that are "architecturally interesting" with "nice clean lines" -- that means calla lilies for those of you who don't commission your floral arrangements from Frank Gehry. Andrea picks what she describes as "strange, textured flowers" -- apparently, Andrea is unaware of the reality show conceit that anything considered remotely strange should be regarded with revulsion and horror, lest anyone else get any funny ideas, so it should be interesting to see how this strategy pans out for her. And thus do Michael and Andrea's flower-buying adventures end nearly as soon as they begin. A good thing too, as I was beginning to go into withdrawal from the lack of swooping aerial shots of the Pacific Design Center.

Speaking of which, the Top Designers arrive at their home away from home with four-and-a-half hours to finish the challenge but with their tents, pre-erected. That's a pity, as I was really looking forward to watching the top designers go all Ringling Brothers on us and prop up their individual tents. Aw, who am I kidding? They would have just gotten their carpenters to do everything. After the requisite shots of people expressing concern about the project -- "Boy, we sure have a lot of work ahead of us" clips that, for all I know, were leftover from previous challenges -- we resume with this week's narrative, The Trials of Goil Amornvivat. In this installment, our hero resigns himself to moving the lattices around while Erik and Andrea jawjack about where to put the flowers. And I know it's supposed to be sad and all -- poor Goil, shut out of a leadership rule, and reduced to grunt work -- but you haven't experience sublime unintentional comedy until you've heard Goil's sad little death whimper as he comes dangerously close to being crushed by a falling lattice. Does it make me an uncaring ass that I laughed out loud at the death whimper? Doubtlessly. But at least I'll have something to chuckle about when I'm roasting in Hades.

Over in the other tent, Matt is making sure the trains run on time; apparently keeping trains on schedule requires a lot of cursing. "We can't be a perfectionist with this shit," he tells Carl the Carpenter. "That gets all mirrored," he says with exasperation to another gaggle of carpenters. "Fuck me." Carisa just shakes her head -- there's only room for one order-barking diva on this project, buddy boy, she seems to be saying. "Everybody needs to take a deep breath and relax and," Carisa begins before Matt cuts her off: "None of us has two minutes to stand," he snaps. Carisa responds by rolling her eyes heavenward; if she's not careful, they're going to stick that way soon enough. Meanwhile, Michael is painstakingly assembling the flowering arrangements, earning Carisa's scorn for not helping out with the rest of the design. You may remember this particular passion play when it was staged last week as Carisa, Please Stop Working on Your Stupid Office and Help Us; playing the part of Carisa this week is Michael, while the squirrel urine will be replaced by bottles of Bacardi Limón . So Carisa is irritated at Michael; Michael feels likewise about Carisa; and just to nail the hat trick, Matt isn't too pleased with Carisa either: "We decide who's doing what, and I turn around, and Michel's being pulled over from his job [by Carisa] so that he can help paint." It's increasingly looking like this challenge won't end before one of these three is dead by the other's hand -- please don't assume I am objecting to this turn of events.