Oh, but there's the small matter of who they'll be designing these swinging, 162-grand, downtown L.A. lofts for. Todd hands each one a manila envelope, which they proceed to open. "It's myself!" Matt screams, showing more emotion in those three second than he has the previous nine weeks. Carisa will be designing a loft for herself, too. Hey, Bravo -- that deal I outlined above? It's off. There's not enough money in the universe to make me pretend that this is a good idea. First off, what semi-competent design professional given this amount of time and financial leeway couldn't design a room to their own personal liking? Heck, I'm a few degrees below Incompetent Boob, and I think I could pull it off. Second, how exactly do you judge people in such a competition? "Carisa and Matt, you both seem happy with your lofts. First prizes for everyone!" Better to have them design lofts where Matt is Carisa's client and vice versa. Or have them design lofts for some of the eliminated contestants. Or Oldham. Or Adler. Or anyone but themselves. Criminy, we're not five minutes into the episode yet, and already I know that the final result will be inscrutable and unsatisfying no matter who wins.

The remaining Top Designers, however, would like you to know it's very much a challenge to design a loft for yourself. Matt, for example, isn't just designing for him -- he's got that wife and daughter we keep hearing about. "I have to incorporate a lot more into my space then Carisa does," Matt says. As for Carisa: "I have to have a place to work. I have to have a place to sleep. And I entertain a lot." Really? Because you wouldn't know it from the first nine episodes. Ah, but I kid, because soon? I won't have to care.