Kim and Eric think their living room lacks a focal point. The room has mostly beige walls with one olive green wall, and beige carpet. Beige curtains. The large olive green wall has a small, ineffectual arrangement of 4" x 6" photographs on it. The room has a bunch of either rattan or bamboo furniture with nasty-looking cushions. There seems to be a cabinet or armoire opposite the sofa, but we don't get a clear shot of it, and I can't tell if there's a TV in it or what. Kim says they don't look out toward the yard -- which is very pretty -- because they just have these boring beige curtains. There's a child's plastic desk and chair and a child's drum set in front of the window. In the far corners of the room are a mostly empty curio cabinet and a large palm tree. There are two entrances to the room, each of which has a couple of steps down into the room. Kim says she doesn't want any orange colours. Eric says he doesn't want any primary colours; he'd prefer something warm. Kim: "Colour, but not a crazy colour." Eric says that when they moved into the house, he begged Kim to get rid of the "wicker" furniture, but lost the battle: "As I normally do." Kim says the room is nice and just needs new cushions. She wouldn't care if it were painted. Eric: "Or gone. Painted, gone, whatever." Kim makes dismissive facial gestures.
Key swap. The homeowners are in their respective canoes on the lake and MPDP's perched on the dock. I'm waiting for her to drop the keys in the drink, but it doesn't happen. As they row off, MPDP voice-overs that "Hildi and Kia are ladies in waiting." More like loonies in waiting, but whatever.
Kim and Eric find Kia chuckling over the tool chest/TV stand. Like it's one of the more outlandish things she's ever seen. Apparently she's never really looked at one of her rooms. There's a Post-It note on the thing that reads "Put me in the garage." Somebody stick that on Kia. There seems to be another one that reads "Make me a new thigh hazard." (And there's one on the ceiling fan that says "don't touch.") Kim wants the room to be romantic and "uninviting to the children." Gee, if they wanted "uninviting to children," I would think they'd have assigned Hildi to this room. Eric thinks they should use the tool box as inspiration. Kia hesitates for a moment and then says, "Okay, we're not listening to you." Kia tells Kim she'll listen to her. She says they're going to paint the walls and brighten up the room. The floor needs lots of help, but she doesn't know if it's in the budget to get rid of it. Oh come on -- replacing any floor with just about any other normal option (except painting it) is a big-ticket item, and either you've planned for it and allocated a large part of the budget to it, or you haven't. It's not like on the morning of Day Two you suddenly walk in and go, "Hey! We have $789 left. How did that happen? Let's go get some Pergo!" Why not just say, "Unfortunately, with only $1000 to work with, I don't think we can replace this carpet, but we're going to come up with a design that works with it and makes it look a lot better?" Right. I forgot. That takes talent and taste. Kia's rambling on about the bed "aris[ing] from the sea." To no one in particular she says, "Stay tuned." Then she's on about some "three-dimensional effect on the walls," window treatments, and "a border, of course." Of course! Because nothing says "I have no clue about decorating and design" like sticking up a fugly wallpaper border. Of the border, Kim says, "How did I guess?" Kia just agrees. I think she's actually proud that this is, like, her trademark, or something. They unload the room, during which MPDP inspects and then wings around a pair of Nancy's lacy red panties. (Well, maybe I shouldn't assume they're Nancy's.) Anyway, wasn't she all over Doug when he was pawing through a homeowner's undie drawer in Texas? Let the Carnival of Cluelessness commence!