Survivor Palau: Yes, Mistress
Or: Bitchy Clones May Break My Bones, But Being Whipped Excites Me

Last week , on Suvivor: Boring Islands of Fat Castaways, Caryn was on the hot seat and Katie was Ian's girl (Wait? Aren't I Ian's girl? Oh, no, wait. According to International Relationship Statute 643, girls with poutine guts can't date dolphin trainers they outweigh. Oh well. If I can't have him, Katie can't either. Back off, Blondie).

We then had the lamest family challenge in the history of Survivor, which is really saying something. Couldn't we have at least seen someone walk the plank?

Finally, Greggg was eliminated by the Extraneous Letter Squad and was barely restrained from winking into the camera while saying his parting words. His departure left Jennn a serious target, most especially because her remaining brain cell imploded trying to comprehend the masterful strategy that brought down The Plan.

Huh What?

After brief rodent footage, juxtaposed with people stumbling back from Tribal, we get Jenn sitting in broad daylight yammering about how Gregg was her strength, her rock, her comfort.
Translation? "Well, at least he knew where the G-spot was."

Then, inexplicably, we are back in the dark, where Ian, beginning his long descent down the Spiral of Stupidity into Eunuch Hell, tries to buy Jenn off with the comment that the vote was "nothing personal." By preserving her carefully neutral exterior, she manages to fool him into thinking that she's a smooth operator. Really, though, at that time she hadn't realized yet that the G-man was gone. She was still stuck on trying to recognize Coby without his gorilla beard.

Strike Me Out

When morning comes, each of the remaining men grabs his puppet closest female ally and tries to hammer out a deal. Tom is proving marvellously persuasive to Caryn, who looks about ready to pull a Helen and do anything that King Brian Manly Man Tom is asking her to do. Which, basically is settle for third place (hey, it's an upgrade from sixth!). He's contemplating switching alliances and dumping the Fattest Survivor Ever Katie, because she's wavered. Caryn is all for it, but isn't sure that Katie's going to go for it.

Meanwhile, Ian, trapped lying in the hammock with a blonde on either side of him, is plotting to oust Caryn, and wavering on his alliance with Tom. From the stupid comments he's dropping, you can see that Katie is building up a full head of steam about something.

Finally, at the end of the sales talk strategy session, we see Tommm (agh! It's contagious!) exhorting Caryn to join with himself and Ian, because "with the girls, you'll be in third." A little rich, no? Tom's been offering Caryn the lowest possible finish every time, and he wants her to take third from HIM. It's a wonder she's taking this. It must be his something I probably can't say on here without being spanked by Webby piercing blue gaze.

Dammit, People, It's NOT FOR PLURALS

Okay, I was really going to go through this without mentioning any commercials, but what in heaven's name is wrong with the Chevy dealers of Newfoundland and Labrador? Chevy's On Sale? Could you look any more moronic? I am seriously thinking of writing a strongly worded letter to these punctuation-impaired asshats. Can't they even have their ads edited? Couldn't a fraction of the sale price of one of their gas-guzzling monsters go to someone who could tell them that their ad makes them look bloody stupid?

Sorry. Let's return to our regularly-scheduled asshats, shall we?

Asshats R Us

When Tom and Ian go for treemail, they make the astonishingly intelligent decision that, in the surprising event that one of them wins the reward challenge, they will take a girl with them in order to break up the Blonde Alliance. Each, naturally, is pushing for his particular puppet. Tom claims that Caryn will be a "loose cannon" if she's left with the other girls, while Ian pushes for the ever-trustworthy Katie. Ian also makes the very perspicacious comment that the better salesman will carry the day in terms of which blonde will finish (O, the hubris) in third place.

To round out his insightful comments, Ian remarks that he is standing on the edge of a cliff and he'd better put on his parachute. To which I reply with the cheap joke that, if Katie is his parachute, he most certainly won't get blown away, but he might get a roll in the hay.

And that's the closest I get to fat jokes, people. I have no leeway to throw stones.

From Zero to Sixty Without A Clue

The famous Car Curse is now up for grabs as the reward challenge swings (creaks, rather) onto our screen. Though it's nice to see they found a way to recycle the TAR boats, I'm confused by the instructions to "retrieve a bag." I thought Katie was playing.

Anyway, as per usual, Ian and Tom are neck-and-neck, with Jennn in the middle and Caryn and Katie fighting it out for last place. Tom dives in the water. The girls get into traffic jams. Ian knows his geography and wins the penis car. *yawn*

Since Ian is now under the Car Curse, his descent down the Spiral of Stupidity is accellerated. Number one: Invite Tom on the reward, even though they carefully decided beforehand that inviting a girl was the strategic thing to do.

The PLAN! He's messing with the PLAN! It started with meee, now it's moving on to Tommm, and next.. what next? Pretty soon Ian will be hooking up with Cobbby and taking over the WORLDDD if they're not careful! Please, people, stick with the PLAN!!!!111!!!!

Excuse us. We are experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by while we remove Gregggg from last weeek's summmmary from this postttt. Thankkkk yoooou.

The only thing more disturbing than Ian screwing up this way is that Tom is starting to refer to himself in the third person. That scares me. It makes me think that he might be some megalomaniac bent on controlling those around him and taking over the island.

Oh. Never mind.

Crocodile Tears

Katie is losing no time in crying to the other girls about losing her best friend and feeling betrayed. While they're both still nodding in agreement that yes, maybe Manila is closer to Palau than New York, she hits them with a blinding Idea: a woman's alliance! Solidarity! Sisterhood! Total Control! It's revolutionary!

Caryn immediately opens the ball with totally honest comments like "I have no deal with Tom." Katie is supportive, replying "Yes, you do." They continue their heart-to-heart until, suddenly, Hell freezes over because it's moved to Canada, maybe, hmm?

Jenn, in a moment of lightning brilliance, actually makes an intelligent comment. She notes that, for Ian and Tom, "Caryn is expendable." Ta Daaa! The light has come on! Jenn is home! NOW we'll see why she was cast. Here's the confessional:

"I had no idea any of this was going on. I'm so surprised."

Okay, fine. Put down the ticker tape and cancel the parade. Somebody polish Jenn's seat on the jury. You'll recognize it right away; the props department didn't quite manage to scratch out "Darrah."

Katie has recovered her élan (did you know it was missing?) and is pounding it home to Caryn that it's a numbers game. Caryn is hesitating. Can she not count?

Fresh? Meat

As soon as the boys are back from their penis-car feeding frenzy, Caryn rushes up to her master on the beach and asks for the truth straight out. Ian, appropriately enough backed by the Violin Music of Doom, proceeds to spit out what might be the truth. Apparently, he's a worse liar than Estée's grandmother. Or something. Anyway, Caryn deduces what she wishes to deduce, which seems to be that nothing is decided and then refuses to give Tom or Ian any information. She's liberated, baby!

This stupidity naturally causes cracks to appear in the (reasonably) solid Tom/Ian alliance. Evidence: "You lost us her vote tonight, Ian." says Tom. Obvious Man strikes again!

The temperature at the camp is a nice toasty -40 when the men get back. This doesn't seem to bother Tom, mainly because he has quiet for once, but you can see that Ian is really squirming under the strain of so much female disapprobation.

Nerd Manipulation 101

Now, I love Ian. He's skinny and dorky and enthusiastic and I like that. But I must concede that he belongs to the subclass of young male, known under a variety of names such as "nerd," "drip," and "dork," that has very little experience with the opposite sex. As such, he is ripe for a whipping in the worst possible way, and this is what Katie is about to hand down to him.

Katie is going about this in an absolutely textbook manner. Her preparation was flawless, as follows:

1. Swear undying friendship in slightly flirty fashion.
2. Show cleavage.
3. Make ridiculous promises (i.e. If I win a challenge I'll take you with me. Yeah, sure).
4. Set Hurt Meter to "Hair Trigger."

Young ladies, take note. There is nothing so devoted as an Ian-type if you get to them before anyone else, and should you ever want a real doormat boyfriend to do your every wish, this is how you nail your hold on them.

Warning: A true doormat type will probably not be very good for your character, but if you can live with the excess selfish bitchiness caused by having someone wait on you hand and foot, then fill your boots.

Now, the real work begins. Watch and learn.

5. While the target is still absent, work yourself up into a full, angry boil. Complain. Blow things out of proportion. Self-pity.
6. Upon the target's return, be cold. Glacial.
7. When questioned, snap rudely. Bonus points for a hurt look in the eyes.
8. Only concede to a parley when the target has been begging for at least half an hour. Then, agree grudgingly.
9. During the actual argument, throw a bomb ("I feel like I've lost my best friend out here.")
10. Wait for the improbable promise ("I'll step out of the game right now if you want me to") OR the grandiose physical gesture (hair-clutching, throwing oneself to the ground, etc.).
11. Relent ever so slightly ("You know I wouldn't want that").
12. While the victim target is still taken aback by this softening, throw another bomb ("I just don't know who to trust anymore").

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Your nerd of choice should be putty in your hands, just Ian. For the price of a hug, in which she's pressed into his armpits, Katie has herself a new bitch.

Strong Armpits, Strong Arms

While Ian continues down the Spiral of Stupidity, Tom is working his own approach to the Girl Power situation: threats. Hey, at least he isn't referring to himself in the third person.

His first threat is the Immunity challenge. The mention of the word "agility" is enough to make Katie's face fall like an overdone soufflé, and Tom is quick to use this to his advantage. Spiriting her off down the beach, he pulls no punches by stating that if she doesn't fall in with the boys, she's on the top of the girls' target list. I'm sort of wondering why he says this, because frankly, she's on the top of his target list too, but then I'm distracted by Tom looking all stern and manly. And I don't even LIKE Tom.

Katie, on the other hand, is not very appreciative of this, because she's revealing that, surprise surprise, she can dish it out but can't take it. It's all very well for her to manipulate Ian with her womanly wiles, but heaven forbid that Tom would put on the Authority Figure hat and lecture her.

Katie: Tom is COLD. This SUCKS. He's MEEEN.

Anyone need a Kleenex? Didn't think so.

Tom comes back, having resumed his Obvious Man outfit, to point out to Ian that Katie's leading him around by his dangly bits. Ian, who's still wiping away his tears, nods. He is obviously deep in thought, which leads him to two conclusions: one, that Tom is worried and is starting to strong-arm people, and that "This is Survivor, not Parcheesi."

I have never played Parcheesi, and have no idea what that is supposed to mean. Obvious Man is no help.

Our Poems Don't Scan, So Don't Fall on Your Can

(I'm considering writing a letter to the idiots that write the "poems" for the challenges, too. Phoquetards.)

It's now time for the coveted immunity. Though it's nice to see they found a way to recycle the Fear Factor tightrope, I'm confused by the instructions not to wobble. I know Katie is playing.

Anyway, as per usual, Ian and Tom are neck-and-neck, with Jennn in the middle and Caryn and Katie fighting it out for last place. Tom falls off the bridge. The girls get into traffic jams. Ian is not quite so good at his memory skills, so Tom takes it and wins the necklace. Ian ? has the penis car. *yawn*

The only moment of note that occurs during Immunity is that when Jiffy is calling out the names of the cannon fodder people who could go home, Ian is first in line. Coincidence? Maybe not, with Katie smirking in the background. Oh, the foreshadowing!

This Is My Test

After some gratuitous shots of Tom heaving the boat up on the beach, the next few minutes are devoted to Obvious Man saying that if Ian gets booted, he's next, so he has to win all of the immunities. Then he goes swimming.

This nauseating display is followed by one of an even more stomach-churning variety: Ian sucking up to Katie. She's taken this opportunity to tighten the strategically-placed noose just a little more, being sad and resigned about "reconsidering her loyalties" and "making no promises. *significant pause* To anyone." Over music that could induce a diabetic coma, Ian says that this is his "test."

Test? Test of what? Stupidity? Good Lord, Ian, can't you hear all the Bashers yelling "Grow a pair!" in unison? That's it! The dolphins can have him.

Caryn is watching with a mixture of glee and trepidation. She's obviously switched firmly to the woman's alliance, so she's pleased to see Katie ignore Ian's outstretched hand, but the fact that they're chatting in such a friendly way really makes her nervous. Because, of course, if Katie chooses Tom and Ian, she and Jenn have made a mistake.

Er, yes. Actually, I think I'd blame the casting director, but it's generous of you to take it on yourself.

Best.Tribal.Council.Ever

Jiffy, wearing the same damn brown shirt with white embroidery that he always does, welcomes the tribe. He is not bearing foo foo drinks.

The jury comes in, looking much as usual. Coby needs to wear a shirt with sleeves. Janu needs to eat her own body weight in cheeseburgers. StephAnie's unusual eyebrows have taken on a life of her own and are clashing happily with her striped dress. Greggggg has not shaved. I guess he wants Jennn to remember him.

Jiffy starts by picking at the scab that is Katie's relationship with Ian. Katie,after an appropriate interval of sad, resigned looks, rips it right off and starts telling the jury about her darkest day, brak brak brak. Ian finally severs his link with his testicles entirely and swears that he made the biggest mistake of his life.

And you know what? I don't think he's even doing it to shut the bitch up. I'd be chewing my own leg off rather than listening to her say one more word, but he genuinely believes he's made a mistake. What a patsy.

Then, thankfully, Jiffy switches to Caryn and asks her "These other idiots are fighting. Can you finally pull yourself together and use it to your advantage?"

Apparently not. Caryn's goal, rather than the million, is to air the "truth" to the jury, saying that Tom and Ian have been after her to help them oust Gregg, Jenn, and Katie, and that she's been promised Final Two. Or three. Whatever. And she's feeling had.

Newsflash: It's a game. That's the point.

Tom steps in for spin control (which, oddly enough, is closest to the truth as Burnett chooses to present it: that he knew that Gregg and Jenn were trying to flip and he was attempting to nip it in the bud) and nearly gets his arm chewed off by Caryn in full cry. Ian, meanwhile, is too busy spitting and spluttering to say anything coherent, and Jenn is sitting in the middle, covering her mouth to keep from laughing.

Katie, once again, is winding up for one last wail. I'll spare you the details, as you've heard "I don't know who to believe" about fifty times. She finds Caryn's revelations interesting. Interesting. I ask you.

It's time (thank Gawd) to vote.

Ian votes Caryn.
Caryn votes Ian.
Everyone else votes Caryn.

The jury is shaking their collective head, except for Coby, who's repeating his Home Alone face just so the cameras don't miss it.

Caryn's final statement is that she is the Messenger! Don't shoot the Messenger, because all of that stuff happened and you guys are bad people and See Where It Gets You!

I was under the impression that it got you a million US and seventeen minutes of media whoredom, but maybe I'm missing something.

Tune in next week to see the drama intensify. Because it's the most dramatic Rose Ceremony EVER!

Coc au Flange-- Official Dish of the Phoquetard Inquisitorial Squad