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 LimÃ³n . 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.