LAST EDITED ON 01-24-05 AT 03:35 PM (EST)
I volunteered to write a summary about Bebo?
I wish I could remember doing that… The past few weeks are a blur. My last clear memories are of walking through a dark alley, someone hit the back of my head really hard, I think I screamed ‘Who’s Your Daddy? What a great idea!', and then two days ago I blinked, it was dark out, the clock claimed two minutes after nine, and the TV was tuned to CBS. I have absolutely no idea how it got there.
But I guess if Webby tells me I’ve got to do a summary for the third episode of Bebo’s series – what a DAW! – I must have volunteered for it. Webby would never lie to me.
The biggest problem – outside of ‘Why is my bedroom now decorated in taffeta?’ – is that I don’t remember watching the first two episodes of the series, so I’m going in with absolutely no idea of what’s supposed to be happening here. Plus I don’t know what Bebo’s real name is and while I’ve got a good mental image of her, it’s probably not even close to what she looks like. Of course, she’s probably the only woman there…
At least I managed to tape the thing. Roll opening credits.
And I immediately learn that I’m in trouble, because there were nine women shown in the initial cast of twelve, and one or more of them is probably going to die before the end of the episode. The music and half-motion animation used during the credits makes this look like a PBS production. Something imported from the BBC, where people with heavy Yorkshire accents travel across body-strewn moors without benefit of CSI lab and deduce the murderer’s name through their untoward use of toad in the hole where bubble and squeak was clearly called for. All we need is a weapon and a motive. And since just being on a reality show qualifies as a motive, I’m halfway home and we haven’t even hit the episode yet – wait a minute… A reality show about the most wickedly perfect murder? (Obviously it’s an elimination sort of series.) No wonder I volunteered for this! I wonder who Bebo’s going to kill next!
I only asked for one episode? No tag-team? (Censored) head injury. (sigh) Well, I’ll just enjoy the bloodbath while I can. Let’s start the journey towards tonight’s midnight burial…
We join the Murder Estate on Day Seven, and it looks like we’re down two cast members already – eight women and two men left – although I have absolutely no idea how they were eliminated. (Wicked methods – well, arsenic has a certain classical touch, doesn’t it?) It takes about three seconds to pick out Dawn as being the one who should die next. She’s patrolling the kitchen, looking for ways to rearrange it into her idea of perfection. This includes putting everything away in her special, divinely-ordained, only slightly obsessive-compulsive way, followed by labeling – everything. The measuring cups are labeled as measuring cups. The glasses are labeled as glasses. Dawn lives in a world where people can’t figure these things out on their own and need all the help they can possibly get. This leads to a little research, which uncovers her profession as ‘first grade teacher’ and her specialty as ‘party planning’, because after dealing with six year-olds all day, a death party is just a way of blowing off steam. The labeling now makes slightly more sense, as Dawn’s normal audience can’t figure out that glue will be sticky every time you toss it in someone’s face.
‘My greatest strength is that I like to get things organized,’ Dawn says in confessional-tell. ‘I’m pretty determined and a bit of a perfectionist, so I try not to let myself get too carried away.’ Meanwhile, back in main camera time, Dawn, in complete control of all her actions, is sticky-labeling the microwave as a microwave, and looks like she’s about to break for the garden, because there’s a spade that needs to be called a spade.
Definitely not Bebo. Seven to go.
Dawn mentions that she’s already been near the chopping block, which put the game in perspective – oooh, DAW death by cleaver! This is getting good! – and the camera switches to the host, who turns out to be Joan Lunden. This is an intelligent money-saving move by CBS, since she can run the show and do the special report on the massive graveyard out back after it wraps up. Plus she’s not Robot Julie, so they may be getting a little better at selecting their mistress of ceremonies.
Joan could be Bebo. I’ll put that judgment on hold for a while.
Joan asks the contestants if they’re ready for their next team challenge – aha! They’re initially allowed to work in teams to eliminate the other contestants! – and I get the team names. The team that’s lost two members is called Team Artisan, which must mean they consider the perfect murder to be an art form (and it is, really), so it’s surprising that they’ve suffered the first two fatalities. The other team is the Crafty Beavers, so I’m guessing they either have a group specialty in Rube Goldberg slice-and-dice machines (connect Garrote A to Knife B and rotate around Poison Vial C), or they just like to gnaw people to death. And they all look so normal, which of course means they’re all killers, because only killers look normal. Just ask any Lifetime movie of the week.
The challenge is this: committing murders at the estate has gotten a little predictable over the last two episodes, so the teams will be sent on an overnight camping trip – one campsite per team, not too far apart. They’ll have to set up the campsites in a high-class way and make them look extravagant, because this is a wickedly perfect murder and bodies dropped in alleyways just don’t have the same refinement as those found in elaborate silk-woven tents. Each team will also have to cook a meal for the judges, because judging the perfect murder is hungry work. They’ll be judged on the aesthetic and functional aspects of the design – are there dark corners to lurk in? Did they construct a weapon-dumping pier next to the river? – as well as the quality and taste of the meal, because man does not live by wickedly perfect murders alone.
And because the contestants will want the judges on their side when all this finally goes before a real court, they’ll have to construct a bribe. Each contestant will work on their very own bribe project, to present to the judge of their choice. It must be made from the sort of natural materials one would find around a campsite, just to stay with the theme, and it must include a map guiding the authorities to where they hid their last twelve bodies. The team with the worst campsite will have its members judged on the quality of their bribes, and the two people whose bribes least impress the judges will be up for – elimination.
I’m really starting to like this show.
Which doesn’t mean it can escape corporate sponsorship. Sears, because it knows death so well through nearly having killed itself about eighty times, will provide each team with a $5000 shopping spree and one hour to spend it in, so they can get materials for their murder scene. There’s also an additional $500 for food and bribe project materials – inclusive, which is why using natural materials is so important. The campsite will be provided with lumber and electricity, and the contestants leave for Sears tomorrow morning. The challenge will be completed forty-eight hours from now.
Oh, and since the teams are uneven, Denise has been randomly picked to move over to Team Artisan, which means her specialty of ‘event planning’ should be handy in planning the event where she finally sticks the knife in the back of a new friend. In c-t, Darlene, whose specialty is ‘ornate sewing’ – lips together, eyelids closed, you know, all the little touches, only with sequins – is happy to have another teammate and feels this will help their group gel. Can’t see a weapon moving in from the shadows: not Bebo.
Mitch (specialty: planting flowers with poisonous scents and letting people inhale themselves to death) c-t notes that Denise is something of a control freak and doesn’t like having her toes stepped on, so this will tell him what she’s made of. (It’s not as if his chosen method shows him the interior anatomy all that often.) He is, naturally, not Bebo, although his MO definitely has that Blue Peep touch to it.
The teams head out to do their initial planning, and if there’s anything more instructive to view than watching a group of serial killers try to mutually plan out their murder site, name the channel. The Crafty Beavers carefully plot the assault on Sears, figuring out who’s going to go for what, where the sections are in relation to each other, and how to disable the security alarms by the cash registers. Tim, who likes to finish people off with carpentry projects, favors a Moroccan theme for the campsite, for that ‘The 1001 Arabian Deaths’ touch. Mychael, the food poisoner, becomes my favorite by proposing that they serve roast quail to the judges, instantly moving to the top of my ‘Bebo?’ list. Death by roast quail… mmm…
Mitch, the eternal spoilsport, c-t thinks Mychael has to simplify her methods, and may not even get to do all the cooking this time. Shut up, Mitch. Roast quail may not be the most wickedly perfect of murder weapons, but it’s definitely among the more loving ways to go.
Meanwhile, over at Team Artisan’s planning session, Darlene is proposing getting a post-hole digger, putting an eight-foot pit in the ground, and planting a real toilet over it, so the campsite will have a makeshift septic tank to hide the bodies in. This is a brilliant idea because the decomposition speed might be tripled, and the team goes along with it. But it’s the only thing they can agree on. While Margo (whose specialty is setting up confusing interior crime scenes, and may be a little lost here) is trying to push for a semi-circle of five tents, with each interior decorated according to one team member’s psychosis, the others just can’t make up their minds about what the victims should spend their final night sleeping on, their last meal eating, and all the other little details that make a wickedly perfect murder so special to see. In fact, by 2 a.m. the next day, they still don’t have a menu, although they have managed to eliminate the possibility of serving ribs to their judge Bobby Flay. When your name is Bobby Flay and your job is murder judge, it’s safe to assume you’ve seen just about all the ribs you can stand.
The next day arrives, and the teams head over to Sears. The Crafty Beavers, who planned out the trip down to the last drops of splatter, hit the store like a well-blood-oiled murder machine and get out with $33.00 and twelve minutes left, with security completely unaware that they were ever there. Team Artisan, however, is managing the job about as well as death by papercuts: it may be painful, but it’s going to take hours to get anything done. Margo mournfully c-t notes that she had all the camping equipment picked out before they reached the store and it was gathered in about eight minutes – but then someone saw a different air mattress, someone else spotted another tarp, and before she knew it, they were off in five different directions. Ever try coordinating five killers’ little quirks? One wants the skin for a jacket, one wants it as a side dish…
While Margo is running around Sears muttering ‘I’m buying this: I don’t care what they say,’ Denise c-t observes that Margo is ‘dying to be the leader’ (and possibly dying from being the leader), and she can see her rival ‘blowing up and going crazy.’ Well – yes. That’s kind of the whole point. And we almost get to skip the rest of the show, as Darlene comes up to a frustrated Margo, who’s doing her best to ignore everything and avoid a premature snap, and insists on quizzing her. ‘Do these pillows go with the bedding? Do these pillows go with the bedding? Talk to me!’ It’s not so much the cameras that restrain Margo (or she wouldn’t be here) as it is their in-sight budget limit that can’t afford to pay for the pillows she wants to stuff down Darlene’s throat.
Margo does not equal Bebo. Bebo would have taken control of this group. Darlene is not Bebo, because Bebo would just know if the pillows went with the bedding. This is getting easier.
After a purchase of coordinated ugly plaid shirts, to make tracking the purchase location of bloodstained clothing all that much harder for the police, Team Artisan wraps up their shopping with only thirty seconds left on the clock – and with four dollars to spare on their budget, which means they arguably did a better job of spending to the limit than the Crafty Beavers did, if a slower one. We have yet to see if all their materials and methods can work together. Their having lost two members in two episodes may be a strong hint in that direction.
The teams move on to food shopping, and Mychael takes a c-t moment to note that after the last challenge, the Crafty Beavers learned how to work together without their egos getting in the way. Of course, this means she’s confident that they’ll win this challenge. And it also means she’s not Bebo, because Bebo would know better than to indulge herself in a EPMB Hubris Moment (pat. pending), and it also means the Crafty Beavers are going to lose, and it also means Mychael will be up for elimination. Oh, and if you had Mychael with the Key Confessional in the Supermarket, you can open your Clue envelope now.
The Crafty Beavers are working with a primary menu of roast quail, wild rice, and grilled vegetables. The Artisans haven’t quite settled on potato salad and ground sirloin hamburgers: there’s a push within the group to override Margo and go with curare-tainted steaks, but Margo is insisting on the hamburger material, which means she’d better be careful not to taste-test anyone else’s cooking.
‘You know why I’m in charge?’ Margo c-ts in the middle of the supermarket. ‘Because I can make a decision.’ So can the rest of your team, Margo: they can decide to cut you, and they can decide it in so many ways... It’s a good thing you’re not going to lose this week.
Kimberly, who specializes in wooden deathtraps, shows the camera what she wanted to do: wild rice and Cornish game hens, one for each person. Simple, comes with a built-in outdoor touch, and even a little woodsy, plus the natural color of a cooked hen hides so many chemical coatings. But no – they’re doing burgers. How very trailer-park mass gravesite.
Denise c-t feels Margo was on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of the store, so the last scene we see before the first commercial break is Team Artisan hurrying out before they do something CBS can’t cover up until the air date – and it’s time to head out to the actual campsites. This turns out to be the base of a hillside along the bank of a small river – for each team: the camps can’t see each other, but they’re set along the same stream. It’s only lightly forested, so there’s enough natural clearings to set up working areas and tent clusters, but there’s also plenty of rocks, fallen branches, and ground plants to deal with. It’s definitely the sort of place with possibilities for a wickedly perfect murder, although it does have the vulnerability of being able to track all kinds of evidence home. The teams reach their bases with twenty-four hours left on the challenge clock, and their materials and purchases awaiting them.
The later turns into the first problem for the Crafty Beavers, as Amy decides reading the directions just isn’t an important part of setting up the tents, especially since the important pieces would surely be labeled by any intelligent designer who knew an insane perfectionist would be working on their product. (Just ask Dawn.) Tim agrees, as he happens to be male and while the instinct to follow directions exists somewhere in his system, the desire to ignore them and just force his way through to the end is a lot closer to the surface. Thus united, they begin to assemble the tents, which is another way of saying ‘Having agreed on their mutual idiocy, they begin to construct a surrealist sculpture.’
‘Darn, it didn’t work!’ Tim exclaims. And there isn’t a gas station in sight.
Mychael does what she does best: sets up the cooking area. Her team members feel the judges want to see her move outside her specialty, but don’t seem to have any idea on how to shift her position. This really doesn’t matter, because she’s doomed. But it seemed to be worth mentioning.
Team Artisan begins to assemble a fire pit wall, with Margo c-t grumbling about the team nature of the game and wishing it was all down to individual abilities, so she could stop suppressing herself and take out all these pretenders already. This is punctuated by her giving Darlene a Look Of Burial Sizing while they mutually try to untangle an electrical cord. Some murderers just don’t work well within structured systems, you know?
But there’s a reason Darlene’s still on the team, and not just because she’s the best at keeping victims quiet. The toilet/disposal area was a good idea, and Artisan swings into action on constructing it. Naturally, they couldn’t get a real toilet – no plumbing to hook it up to – so what they wound up with was a cylinder of the proper height, wrapped in fabric, with a fur-lined donut top.
Try to picture that for a second.
Wrong. The actual one was much worse.
The team puts the bathroom walls and floor together, lines up the toilet over the hole and the little building over the shaft, drapes everything in fabric, and calls the results, which would make any reasonably perceptive police force arrest everyone in the area on general principles, ‘perfect’. And so the Artisans have a bathroom, and the judges may be treated to sitting down on – well, since at least one of the judges is male, they can sit down on dampened fur that has a funny odor, is slightly off color, and takes hours to dry out. But if that’s what they had in mind…
Night falls, and the Crafty Beavers haven’t even started on their first dam. Instead, Tim and Heather are working on a dance floor, since a little adrenaline really flavors fresh meat, and Mitch has taken over part of Tim’s woodworking duties by taking over construction of a food display area/shelf arrangement/dissection table, c-t feeling that Tim takes too long to get anything done and it nearly took them out during the first challenge. Tim sees Mitch’s control freak aspect at work and stands aside, even complimenting him on the good work he’s doing. Mitch snidely thanks him by saying it’s really fast work, which is the best work he does. Fair for construction, not bad for a killer, and – well, multiple murderers usually don’t have much of a sex life anyway.
‘Mitch is Mitch,’ Heather c-ts. ‘He’s so used to seeing the big picture that he wants the whole picture to be his own. It makes him hard to work with.’ Not Bebo. Bebo would have eliminated Mitch by now, especially after he says ‘Completion is better than perfection. Always remember that.’ Mitch – what show did you think you were on, exactly?
One a.m, and Darlene is committing little murders in the dark, digging up plants and moving their remains to new locations, claiming it’ll make the campsite look better. Kimberly, who’s just glad it’s not her, agrees.
Finally, Day Nine dawns, a deer hastily evacuates the area before anyone can propose a really rustic venison dinner, and the contestants put some hasty late-minute work into their bribes. Of the ones that were shown:
Mychael, who is still doomed, puts together an outdoor safety kit, because as every murderer knows, you just can’t be too safe.
Heather makes a photo album/journal/victims log.
Amy makes an acorn purse to hit people over the head with. (Hey… Well, not Bebo. Bebo would use something heavier.)
Tim, feeling a certain respect for the environment, makes a pier to throw weapons and bodies from. The river’s right there, after all, and he is a professional.
Margo makes a diary detailing her travels and experiences for the year, evidently having confused ‘bribes’ with ‘evidence’.
Dawn makes a memory box to keep all those little mementos in – the ones she took from people she met along the way.
Darlene weaves a basket, because when the elimination ceremony is a chopping block, the heads have to land in something.
The last minutes before the judges arrive at the Crafty Beaver camp are spent in sign-painting, tossing greenery on top of fabric-draped tents (distance camouflage), laying down rugs (on top of dirt), dusting the dance floor, getting the cooking going, and wondering if the judges will actually show up on time, which seems to have been a problem in the past. (Some poisons lose effectiveness with prolonged air exposure.) Mychael c-t grouses about how she’s aware that people want her out of the kitchen – yet every time she calls for help with the food, her teammates tell her to take care of it. Nothing worse than a lazy killer with no interest in learning, and besides, so few of her sauces qualify as contact poisons – what are they so worried about?
The Artisans are working on the approach path (fallen branches lining a ‘this way to your doom’ trail), getting into their plaid shirts (there’s a funny c-t here as Dawn tries to complain about the blouses with the person who wanted them within earshot, then has to verbally back up in something of a hurry), also throwing greenery on top of anything that doesn’t move (which results in two very confused box turtles), and starting their own cooking. Artisan has one small advantage here: while the quail and fried trout that the Beavers are using as a secondary dish can go wrong if left out to wait for the judges, the burgers can be thrown on the grill at any time – if only the grill was working. Margo’s specialty doesn’t include arson, and after a few failed attempts to get a spark started, she switches over to the fire pit. (Somewhere in America, a man named B.B. suddenly feels good about the one thing he ever accomplished in his DAW life, and doesn’t know why.)
Margo, horribly upset about having one thing in her insanely perfectionist life go wrong, sobs about how she’s left her children to find the best cuts of long pork all by themselves while she’s in this competition, they’re too young to really kill on their own even if the system would go easy on them once they were caught, and she has to win in order to provide a better flow of victims for them, because otherwise, how can they have it better than she did as a kid? – and we move into the second commercial break.
With the camps as finished as they’re going to be – the Beavers stuck to their Moroccan look, while the Artisans went with ‘Rustic Elegance’, and not a banjo in sight – our judges, David, Candace, and Bobby, show up, apparently more or less on time – at least for the first camp visit. This turns out to be the Crafty Beavers’ site, where Mitch immediately takes on the host’s duties, telling the judges all about the wonderful sights and tastes that await them. Unfortunately, the later has somehow mutated to include chili dogs, and Cornish hens have joined the quail (happy, Kimberly?), plus the Moroccan influence has to be explained to their evaluators – and if you have to explain it, it’s not a look. The dance floor, which will apparently be used for ‘Beaver Riverdance’ later, gets a quick glance of what might be horror, so at least they’re ahead in one department.
The real terror is reserved for the killing fields, which are death-by-scent – not Mitch this time, but the dirty, unfolded clothes in the Beavers’ sleeping quarters. David takes instant issue with the team not having done laundry because if you can’t be bothered to get your victim’s DNA out, what good are you? – plus the sleeping bags weren’t straightened out, and if you could tell what position the body had been in… The Beavers really weren’t expecting anyone to go inside their own personal group tent and hadn’t thought about cleaning out their pungent musk before the judges arrived, so have to grit their teeth and live with the consequences. Partial salvation comes courtesy of the menu: no one’s allowed to poison the judges (yet), Mychael’s cooking and menu choices are well-suited to the environment, and it’s just plain good food. (I actually wound up admiring Mychael a little here: she knows the raisins-and-pine-nuts-in-rice trick, and that’s not something everyone’s familiar with. Now, the sleeping-powder-in-the-raisins trick – that’s Dahl…)
There’s a little lunch conversation, and it turns out the judges didn’t come in knowing what each contestant’s specialty was – although Bobby is starting to figure it out, with the exception of Amy (who hasn’t shown much) and Mitch (whose ‘big picture’ qualities are a little harder to pin down). As the judges will ultimately be looking for someone who can do it all, with anything that’s available, and improvise a cover-up as they go, Mitch feels he’s getting a leg up in the competition, or whatever body parts turn out to be handy.
These may be voluntarily-removed eyes, because the next thing up is the post-meal entertainment of the Crafty Beaver Riverdance – and in the name of misplaced mercy, that’s all I’m going to say about it.
Heather c-t believes the Beavers have this one wrapped up (but the spot of Key Confessional was already taken – regardless, still not Bebo), and the judges head over to the Artisan camp while the Crafty Beavers finish their lunch.
The Artisans greet the judges with poison-free alcohol (also served at the first camp – tipsy judges may be forgiving ones, or just really mean drunks) while wearing their plaids, and pass out matching shirts to the judges. The individual sleeping areas seem to get extra points right off the bat: lots of pillows, sturdy air mattresses, no lasting impressions of sleeping position – and the dining area, set in an open-sides pop-up tent with a easily-burnable wood chandelier and leaves for placemats, just screams ‘We can dispose of our evidence like professionals!’ But then David finds himself in need of a bathroom – and that means Darlene gets to show off all the comforts that a fur seat being used for the first time can offer. (It’s the second visitor who’s in trouble.) David enjoys himself and the scented candle in the bathroom (because covering up scents is important, too), and returns to the dining area with a considerable feeling of relief, declaring that he has shed his water. Also his sense of dignity, actual flair for the dramatic, and ability to be taken seriously. All flushed down the hole, forever.
This temporary comfort vanishes as soon as the food is served. In another one of those off-camera mutations, sirloin burgers have become turkey patties, and they don’t seem to have been cooked enough. Bobby makes some notes in his judgment book while Kimberly c-t mourns the loss of the game hens, and the dining portion of the afternoon is going less than well. Beyond the undercooked turkey burgers, the food is a campout special – a standard campout special, with no real refinement at all. And that’s just not the sort of thing a truly, wickedly perfect murderer would go with. Ask Hannibal.
The judges are presented with smothering blankets as an extra, unofficial group bribe, and the after-meal entertainment is presented as a combination Girl Scout/military sound-off ode to toilet seats, complete with sing-along sheets for the judges. This is not a joke, and because it is not a joke, it’s nearly all the detail I’m going to provide. When two lines are:
‘Porta-Potties, are you nuts?
‘We won’t touch them with our butts.’
you’ve pretty much heard all you need to. Or want to. Or can stand to. (Murder by song is seldom-used, but really effective.)
Denise c-t gets ready to blame herself if they lose – Denise is not Bebo, because Bebo would never take any blame – and the third commercial break is reached as the judges leave the woods.
The show picks up back at the estate, where Joan Lunden makes her second contractually-obligated appearance for the episode as everyone gathers to listen to the judges. For the positive points, Candace feels that both camps had that certain flair to them, and the fabric draping did a lot to conceal actions from possible witnesses. David likes the color choices and table settings of the camps, and Bobby believes the individual menus worked with their settings, especially as concerned potential time-release effects: see ‘raw turkey burgers’ for details.
That meets our yearly requirement of compliments towards contestants for every reality show on television, so it’s time for the negatives. David gets the Beavers for using electrical tape to fasten their fabric with instead of saving it for sound-blocking (they’d run out of needles after a few practice sessions and late-night entertainment), while Candace nails them on their messy cots (again, late-night entertainment), and Bobby criticizing their frying the fish because no killer wants to think about something being fried. With the Artisans, Candace brings up the ‘no poisoning the judges’ rule as regards the raw turkey burgers, and Bobby restates something he apparently said during the first episode, which seems to have been about playing Snow White with tempting apples: if you’re going with a classic, you have to knock it out of the box. There’s just a limit to the number of locked room mysteries with secret passages coming through the fireplace anyone can take. The contestants listen and learn, then leave the judges to their deliberations.
This only takes a few seconds of half-said sound bites, and then the decision is made. To keep things from keeping too predictable in this competition and since an attempt to poison the judges at least shows ambition, Team Artisan has gotten their first win. The stunned Crafty Beavers are subjected to individual project review – it turns Mitch did a decorative box: memento storage again – and the losers are Mychael’s safety kit (too many store-bought pieces, easily traced) and Heather’s photo album (wood and leaves pasted onto a standard Sears plastic stock piece – human skin is so much more classic for a base material), placing those two in uncomfortable proximity to the chopping block. Everyone else is safe – for now.
So – how does the final choice of eliminated party actually work on this show? I’m starting to become really curious about this. Boiling cooking oil squirt guns at ten paces? First one to paint over the other’s airways? Cement shoe sculpture?
(sigh) Voting. Boring old voting. And they were doing so well…
The three members of the Crafty Beavers with temporary safety meet to talk things over, and then the entire group heads out to the estate’s rock garden, where the judges and Joan are waiting. The ‘safe’ parties are carrying oval placards with their vote already placed on them – and yet, Joan offers the nominated two a chance to speak to their team before the votes are revealed. In other words, the voters’ minds have already been made up as to who’s dying tonight, but the victim gets to beg for her life anyway – to no effect. And doesn’t know it yet.
Much, much better.
Mychael says she feels she works well with the team, has contributed to their success in the past, and does a lot for team chemistry, especially since chemicals are something she’s really good with.
Heather tells them she’s been one of the strong leaders in the past, wants to be one of the strong leaders in the future, and if necessary, can take the fall for those who work with her and let them escape to do their deeds another day. And isn’t that all anyone really wants in a leader?
With the epitaphs recorded for prosperity and the State’s Exhibit H tape, the votes are cast:
Tim: votes based on his total strategy, his desire for everyone else on his team to die before him, and the certain knowledge that he’ll have to eat sometime: Mychael.
Amy: wants someone who will listen to her, because she’s the only real person in the world and all the figments of her imagination had better start paying more attention or they’re really gonna get it: Mychael.
Mitch: also concerned with his own game, feels one playing piece just isn’t moving the way he wants it to and, unlike his childhood, he couldn’t just set the entire neighborhood on fire to create a new path across his personal board, so: Mychael.
Joan comforts Mychael by saying her teammates have just decided to send her home to Jesus – not that it’s where she’s headed, but it’s nice to hear at this sort of moment – and sends her off to the chopping block, which will take place off-camera because this is CBS, not FOX, and some things are just more fun when they’re left to the imagination. Mychael does get one final confessional before she goes, and uses it to agree with Tim’s logic. In the end, a killer with ambition and a specialty in food poisoning was just too dangerous to the rest of the team, and they were only getting rid of her before she could get rid of them. It was perfectly wicked – and so, she can do nothing but approve. That’s just the way it goes when you’re playing a game with mass murderers. Someone has to die, and if it’s you – well, you knew the stakes when you signed up. And so Mychael leaves us with memories of wild rice and raisins, a deep gratitude that we didn’t have to eat any of it, and numerous blue lines on her body marking off the prime cuts for future use.
What future murder scene will the teams be asked to construct next? How many innocent bystanders will go missing before the series is over? Will any of them be AI forum posters? Can we get some subtle sound effects from the chopping block? And, of our remaining candidates, which one is actually Bebo?
I’m sure going to watch the rest of the series. (Come to think of it, who do I have to kill to get on this show…?) See you next week! BYOB!
(Bring Your Own Body.)