Ahoy, me hearties and shiver yer barnacled timbers! Long Jiffy Probe and the brigantine “Surviv-whore” be castin’ off on another adventure.

'Tis a great grand ship: The scuppers are brewing with sprogs, the sheets are sprung upon the mizzenmast, and the nippers are binding the prow. Raise yer spyglass, swabbie, for we have our Letters of Marque and are on the account once more! Let's haul wind!

Is that enough gratuitous pirate jibberish for you? Good. The season is 15 seconds old and already my stomach needs a bilge pump. Next week I want TWO eye patches.

The show opens with some travelogue footage of Panama City. Get a good look now, ‘cause we ain’t goin’ there. Instead, we zoom across the water to the good ship Rembrandt van Rijn, named for the infamous Dutch pirate. And there’s Long Jiffy Probe! He tells us the contestants are all dressed up below deck, thinking they are getting ready for publicity photos, but he’s about to throw them overboard. Thank you baby Jesus, for he did not say, “walk the plank.”

Blah blah blah.. no suitcases… no luxury items… no clothes… no Texas flag… blah blah blah… we know all this from the 1,687 commercials about how much better this is gonna be then ever before. Then Jeff says:

“In the end (zoom in on Darrah) only one will (cut to Sean and Andrew) remain to claim (cut to the group) the million dollar prize.”

Can they be any more blatant?? Roll the opening montage. By the way, fellow spoilers: Did you like that shot of the near drowning? HA!

But I’m jumping ahead.

We all know Long Jiffy Probe, and his career of evil deeds. Let me introduce the other pathetic creeps:

The Drunk Tribe

Burton Roberts, 31, single guy in San Francisco (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Prep school rich boy, Eagle Scout, adventure racer, Bud drinker. He’s a marketing executive at a video game company, which means he sits in an office all day playing with his joystick. That Masters degree is really paying off! But I drew his name in the office pool, so I say he wins.

Christa Hastie, 24, pseudo-intellectual Nazi crackwhore from Los Angeles. She a kickboxing computer virus author who buys cocaine on eBay and likes to sew fun and unique clothes, particularly those with pointy hoods. She looks kinda trashy in a master race kinda way, as if she buys her lingerie from Friedrich’s of Nuremburg. She expects her food preparation skills will be an asset to the team. You know she practiced building a fire in Osten’s front yard.

Jon Daulton, 29, originally from Danville, Virginia but currently living in Los Angeles where he is an art consulant. And yes, his hat makes an artistic statement: “I’m with Stupid.” Jon’s idol is Hugh Hefner; his hobbies are girls, music and television; his goal is to have sex with another Survivor. He describes himself as sharp, quick and amazing. HA! He vows to kick off all the old people. Asswipe, look around. You are not a high school sophomore anymore! You ARE the old people. A pathetic case of arrested development. And just wait until he gets drunk.

Michelle Tesauro, 22, from Pittstown, Noo Joisey. Perky lil thing, ain’t she? A former lifeguard, former cheerleader, gymnast. She drinks her iced tea extra sweet, loves sugar cookies with frosting and eats Fruity Pebbles. She will double her weight in 15 years. Those hideous glasses are the official “Sandra Bullock geek/hidden hottie” disguise. One time, at band camp… she was voted Most Likely to Cause Diabetes.

The Dread Pirate Rupert Boneham, 39, Deadhead psychobabblist from Indianapolis. He’s proud of having avoided real work his whole life, except for the part where he was a gravedigger. Now he’s a mentor for troubled teen boys, which means he still gets all the best drugs. His favorite magazine is Playboy, he loves Goldie Hawn and PacMan. Someone poke Rupert and tell him the ‘70s are over. He looks like a caveman, and expects to be a hunter-gatherer for his tribe. Someone poke Rupert and tell him 10,000,000 B.C. is over.

Sandra Diaz-Twine, 29, sent over from Central Casting to play the Feisty Latina. She likes to merengue and drink non-alcoholic pina coladas, and will do the Alicia Calloway finger waggin’ with a salsa beat. Right now she works as a bureaucrat for the U.S. Army at Fort Lewis, Washington, but she’s proudest of getting an Associate’s Degree in Marketing at Fayetteville Community College. She and Burton have lots to talk about! She feels her Army background will be an asset. Yeah, if they have to invade Panama.

Shawn Cohen, 29, single, meathead. He’s from New York, now living in Hollywood. Once worked in advertising sales; his friends and family dubbed him “The Ultimate Salesman.” Now he’s running a web site for other losers who can’t find work. Hopes to soon to be doing walk-ons in crappy CBS sitcoms. He loves Pacino and DeNiro, but is probably closer to Tony Danza. Loves sunflowers, white wine, soy vanilla latte. Did I mention he’s single?

Trish Dunn, 42, a sales executive who ran all the way from Annapolis, Maryland to be here tonight. She describes herself as a born leader, a gifted problem solver, focused, competitive and loyal. She’s the mother of twins, a kayakin’, hikin’, rock-climbin’, snowboardin’, bungee-jumpin’ ball of energy. She’s also overdosed on Cap’n Crunch with Crunchberries. With a little push, she could gut, clean and cook young punk Jon Daulton, and still make something useful out of that hat. Hard to say anything bad about Trish, but let’s just see what 39 days in the sun does to that kayakin’, hikin’, rock-climbin’, snowboardin’, bungee-jumpin’ face of hers.

The Moron Tribe

Andrew Savage, 40, is a Chicago lawyer who worked for The Jerry Springer Show. Hard to bash him when he’s already belittled himself so. However, this pretentious windbag formerly ran a South African diamond smuggling ring (oh wait, an import/export business), until he’d raped the entire continent. Today he’s a partner in a big city law firm and making a cool quarter million. He’s so wealthy he can bankroll the imaginary career of his singer/songwriter brother, who topped MP3 charts five years ago. (Excuse me, 17 downloads is not a career.) Andrew’s self-aggrandizing will cause his tribemates to push him into the fire soon.

Darrah Johnson, 22, is frum Liburteee, Miss-is-ip-puheee. She’s a sexy thing, and she likes her men stiff. Really stiff. Chilly and stiff. She’s been a salesperson, a waitress and now a mortician. She did all three jobs at Uncle Zeke’s Mortuary, Gift Shop, Diner Deli and Fillin’ Station, down by the highway? On that paved road? You know, the ol’ Gas-N-Go? She also loves to hunt, and would love to be a coroner. Darrah was voted “Ril Purrty” at Holmes Community College of Corpse Art. She don’t drink Daddy’s moonshine, she’s stickin’ to Mountain Dew. But don’t underestimate her. Remember, she likes to cut up naked elderly hillbillies.

Lillian “Big Lill” Morris, 51, Cincinnati scout leader. Married to Lonnie, has grown kids Clayton and Megan, but still likes to hang out with little boys. According to her bio, she’s got 78 active young men under her. No wonder she’s smiling all the time. Of course, she’s got all that Boy Scout training, so there better not be any gay guys trying to get into HER tribe. After sleeping in tents with 78 pubescent boys, she’s got the outdoors skills and leadership ability to win the game… providing she gets Darrah to help bury the bats. Don’t underestimate Big Lill, either. She loves AC/DC, rap music, margaritas and Very Sexy fragrance by Victoria’s Secret. (Let THAT haunt you late at night.)

Nicole Delma, 24, goes out of the house without underwear. She’s a strapless-dress-wearin’ massage parlor girl in Hermosa Beach, California, where she provides “happy endings” to visiting Korean businessmen. OK, she claims to be a massage therapist with the pro volleyball tour. So she provides “happy endings” for sand-encrusted beach boys, too. Read her bio; it clearly states under outdoor activities that she loves to do “anything, and I mean anything” on the beach. She’s really a clingy, whiny, prima donna who describes herself as in “peak physical condition, young, energetic.” Gidget Goes Psycho. Her strategy is apparently to rub her tribemates. The wrong way. Tomorrow’s her birthday, and she hopes to meet Julie Chen!

Osten Taylor, 27, is not the laziest man on television. Yet. He works for a Boston investment firm and once worked on Wall Street. No, not the squeegee guy. He’s an athletic, handsome African-American man who enjoys wearing women’s perfume while boozing with da Bean Town boyz. Even though he can’t swim, he may do well in this game. But he will not win. (Check the contract for the Rector Clause.) Osten is prepared for this because he’s got patience, wisdom and God’s blessing. Of course, he’s also a Red Sox fan, and we know what their Septembers are like.

Ryan Opray, 31, just might be the laziest man on TV. He’s certainly the stupidest. When not lollygagging around on a Panamanian beach, he’s an apprentice electrician, which means he gets to hold the ladder. He says his assets are his strength and his ability to build things. Things like excuses for the crappy shelter. According to his CBS bio, he’s real proud of the fact that he hasn’t been able to keep a job more than a few weeks. His favorite cereal is Boo Berry, he’s a big motocross fan, and he’s single. Go figure. He has an unhealthy attraction to Alyssa Milano and Jennifer Love Hewitt, and is another of the Playboy subscribers (I think we’ve got them all here now). He works only to support his habit. Ryan is your basic compulsive masturbator.

Ryan “GeekBoy” Shoulders, 23, is a produce clerk in Clarksville, Tennessee. He likes punk music, the game Capture the Flag, and is a three-time failure when trying out for his high school debate team. He likes to build and fly kites, which can be very dangerous when you stand 6’3” and weigh 6.3 ounces. He’s cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, homemade hallucinogens, and pneumatically enhanced porn superstar Jenna Jameson. His favorite magazine is Nintendo Power, but there’s a well-used Playboy under his mattress, you can be sure. Where do they get these people??

Tijuana Bradley, 27, is aptly named for the Mecca of prostitution. She has a Bachelor’s degree in communications, with an emphasis on broadcast journalism. She is currently a waitress who dabbles in pharmaceutical sales, but is also a former cheerleader and has worked as a high school cheerleading coach. Now she wants to be on TV. Of course, she uses the Ebonic pronunciation of her name, Tiwanna. Her hero is her late lamented mother, who raised two kids as a single parent in the fragrant hell that is St. Louis, Missouri. But can she forgive Mom for naming her after the home of the two-dollar hand job?

*******************

After the opening montage, we get more scenic shots of whales and sailors and dropping anchors and such. The 16 players are assembled on the deck. Jeff tells them they are going overboard with nothing but the clothes they are wearing. Nicole tells the world she’s not wearing a bra, and all assembled Playboy subscribers pop boners.

Jiffy admits rummaging through their luggage to collect their tennis shoes (and some other lacey souvenirs, thank you Nicole). Now he wants their personal items from their pockets. They’ve got passports and watches and cash and jewelry. Osten brought two bottles of Colt .45 but Jiffy won’t let him keep them. He passes out the buffs, tells them about the fishing village on the nearby island. He gives each tribe a map, and100 balboas to hire a boat and to spend on supplies and tools for camp. He tells them to explore, barter when you run out of money, and spend wisely because you are not coming back to the village. Ever. So don’t hang on to the money. Use the money. All of it. Spend it on stuff. Then he throws the sneakers overboard, and the 16 pathetic losers jump off. Some even remember to bring the life raft.

When the Moron tribe gets to the beach, Nicole and Darrah run ahead, and Geekboy becomes the first to complain his tribe has no plan. RyanO runs all around the island to find a boat, and then realizes he can’t hire them because he doesn’t have money, or any frickin clue where he wants to go. Moron tribe indeed.

When the Drunk tribe arrives, they carry the raft full of their dress shoes to the top of the stairs, and an exhausted Dread Pirate Rupert slumps down on it. He gives Burton and Sean the money, and waits by the raft. Moron’s meatheads carry their shoe-filled raft over by The Dread Pirate Rupert, drop it there, and wander away.

“This is definitely a pirate adventure,” growls The Dread Pirate Rupert, who steals all the dress shoes from the Moron raft. He then drags his raft away, saying “I will lie, cheat and steal to win this game,” and meets up with Jon, passing him the pirated shoes for bartering with the locals.

Proving that even the most dedicated hippies can sell out, The Dread Pirate Rupert then shills for Mark Burnett. Adopting a hokey Scottish accent he mutters, “It’s a hard life, livin’ the pirates life.”

Thankfully, we cut to commercials.

******************

When we come back, the Morons have let Osten take over. He’s running around like an idiot, trading all his clothes except his droopy boxer shorts. Normally, I’d leave the clothing critique to our resident Fab One and the Gay Survivor analysis. But why is Osten wearing boxers that say “Buzzed” on his ass? Is he a punky 14-year-old girl? Or did he lose a belt sander up there?

Anyway, he’s spinning in circles, shouting orders to his tribemates. He’s buzzed all right. He’s lost his mind and admits as much in his first confessional. But he does manage to sell one shoe for 2 balboas. Panamanian money, you know. Which is useful for buying things in the village today and today only, but totally worthless after you get in the boat.
I’m just sayin.

Osten also formulates the “Girls Gone Wild” strategy, suggesting Nicole, Darrah and Lill flash their boobs at the old men to get some more money. Yes, he suggested Lill, who giggles at the idea. For some reason, the braless massage parlor bimbo is insulted.

Now we see Sandra and the rest of the Drunk Tribe. Feisty Latina is jabbering away in high speed Spanish, negotiating with all the locals. She even manages to sell Trish into white slavery to a lesbian shopkeeper in exchange for a lantern and kerosene. Trish, of course, is here for the adventure, and she enthusiastically wraps her arms around her new Sugar Momma.

A D V E R T I S E M E N T

A D V E R T I S E M E N T

Into the shop come the Moron Tribe, and Tijuana picks a fight with the shopkeeper demanding her money back for an item they don’t want. A furious argument breaks out. This frustrates Nicole, who can’t believe the camera is not pointed at her expensive cleavage. If only she knew the shopkeeper was into buying white chicks.

The Drunks continue to roam through town. Sandra and Jon crash a backyard barbeque and orgy. Sandra trades her gold necklace for all the food at the party. She gets the chicken, the bowl, the foil, the condiments, a cutting board, a knife, a large plastic tub and an exhausted Trish, who has suddenly decided she needs a Panamanian gardener back in Maryland.

Finally, the Drunks finish looting the village and revel in their good fortune. Tijuana and Osten are jealous, mainly of the fried chicken. Osten rallies his tribe, grabs their meager supplies (a broken thermos, four feet of rope and a sharp stick) and heads for the boats. Geekboy and Lill shout at him that they still have plenty of money. Plus Lill wants to flash her boobs. But useful tools and healthy provisions are not important to the Moron leader. Better to bring along that heavy bag of cash. They rush to the dock and get on the boat nearly empty handed.

“Only time will tell” if they got enough supplies, says Osten. Everyone knows there are not enough supplies for 39 days, but its evident already that won’t be Osten’s problem. He’s got a different problem now. His baggy-ass boxers are wet, and falling off his muscular little ass. The Beantown Boyz are gonna love that.

Back in the village the Drunks are doing inventory. They got toothbrushes! They have water cans, bamboo mats, a tarp, a spear, fishing line, a case of wine, a mobile home, a Lear jet and 10,000 shares of Viacom stock.

While Shawn negotiates for a boat ride, Christa asks Jon to choke the chicken. He does. They all climb aboard the boat, and The Dread Pirate Rupert gives us a maniacal laugh as they enjoy the barbequed food and set sail for camp.

Cut to commercials…..

***********************

Back from commercials, and the Morons arrive at the beach. Geekboy laments that his tribe did not celebrate when they hit the beach. Osten is still in “game mode” and ordering people around. He’s worried because “sunrise is going down quickly.” So he runs everyone around on the beach looking for the perfect spot to build a camp. They finally pick a spot, a nice damp sunny spot, and Scoutmaster Lill begins to build a fire. Using a candle.

RyanO and Andrew begin work on the shelter, following RyanO’s idea to lean stuff against the surf-pounded rock cliff. Why, Ryan? Because it is a lot less work. Yes, but RyanO, it’s a loose shale wall that looks as if it gets hit by high tide every six hours. Yeah, but it is less work!

Drake arrives at their beach, and gathers for a team cheer. Shawn and Burton stride off like the manly men they imagine themselves to be, and start planning the vacation condo they will build. Christa stands by admiring them, her chest heaving so much her dress has ripped, exposing the Friedrich’s of Nuremburg lingerie. The others begin gathering firewood and bamboo. The Dread Pirate Rupert uproots a tree, Michelle finds some 75-foot-long bamboo poles, and faster than you can say “Gilligan!” they’ve got a small village assembled.
You’d think they could be happy, but no. These are Survivors, so they have to snarl. Burton opens a coconut and shares the milk with Shawn and Michelle. Sandra and Christa cry over, yes, spilled milk. These two guys have begun alienating the rest of the tribe as well. Burton and Shawn make fun of The Dread Pirate Rupert, who calls Shawn a pain in the butt. TDPR says “the dynamic duo is gonna make everybody hate them.”

Metaphor moment: Cut to shot of spider making a web.

Now that the shelter is complete, it’s time for water. It’s easy enough to find, because it is prominently labeled on the map. It’s also the home to 6 trillion mosquitoes, which proceed to bite the Drunks in all their uncovered locations. We get a series of shots of folks slapping themselves, and a montage of the worst skin conditions since Colleen’s legs.

Back over to the Moron tribe, where they are drinking the last of the Perrier they purchased at the market. (“A six pack oughta do it, right?”) Now they must search for water. Luckily they have a Boy Scout Leader. They attempt to use Lill as a divining rod, Andrew asking her if she senses water nearby. They begin looking for animal trails, but instead find a stagnant pool. Geekboy says it looks like beer. (Not Colt .45, unfortunately.)

The Drunks at the other camp have two big jugs for collecting water. The only big jugs at the Moron camp, regrettably, are still holding up Nicole’s dress. GeekBoy instead has a bowl to collect the water. Yes, a bowl… holds about a gallon… for eight people. Did I mention these people are morons? Then they go to bed without finding the water supply.

Night falls, and the Panamanian beasts come out. Snakes slither, crabs creep, rocks begin to tumble from the sheltering cliff. Suddenly Nicole cries out that something bit her ass, and yes it is true, the massage parlor girl has crabs under her skirt. Something is touching little Blackbeard. (She’s in short strapless dress, she has no underwear on, top or bottom, and she’s asleep lying next to a compulsive masturbator. You figure it out.)

Tijuana is curled in Osten’s arms, and suddenly he feels a snake between his legs. Everyone jumps up squealing, but there’s no snake. City boy Osten has been tickled by a palm frond. More rocks are falling, and it finally occurs to these idjits that maybe they shouldn’t be sleeping on the ground in front of the crumbling rock wall that is home to 7000 hermit crabs. (Yeah, but it was less work!)

Back to the Little Tribe that Could, where phase one of world domination has been completed, and the celebratory wine is being passed around. Jon is proud that he was the one who traded a pair of mismatched shoes for a jug of wine. He then proceeds to drink most of one bottle. Drunk tribe, indeed.

His behavior deteriorates to the point where he tells 42-year-old Trish, “If you were 17, you’d so be naked.” A minute later he asks aloud, “Where are the teenage girls?” He’s 29 year old, and he wishes he were with naked teenage girls. Granted, he has the mind of a 14-year-old, but he sure sounds like a pedophile. He thinks he is funny.

“Everyone laughs at all my jokes,” he says. “I knew going in that that was going to be a huge bonus for me. I’m not very strong however, I’m a funny guy!”

“He’s a goofball, which can be good,” says Christa, who quickly adds that sometimes he can be “a little obnoxious.”

He proceeds to get obnoxious, cursing and carrying on to the point that Sandra confesses she can’t stand him. The other women move away from him, and The Dread Pirate Rupert lurks in the shadows, apparently ready to cut the throat of the babbling jackass.

We cut to commercials, and I notice a trend. Three commercial breaks, and each time we cut away from The Dread Pirate Rupert.

*********************

Dawn breaks on Day 2 at Drunk camp, and a pelican walks the beach, unmolested. The castaways are lamenting their wet clothes. Michelle is holding her denim skirt in her hand, and is wearing loose white mens boxers. They are really damp, so you can see her own underwear through them. In a confessional she says that no one got any clothes at the village. So, uh, whose boxers are you wearing? (Later we see the boxers on Shawn. We do not see him get into Michelle’s panties.)

The Dread Pirate Rupert is upset that he’s ruined his fancy dress blue jeans, but even more unhappy that the friction of the wet denim is eating away the skin in his crotch. My God, this guy sounds like a pirate.

The tribe begins to hack away at their clothing, adapting the pieces for other uses. The bottom of Christa’s skirt is cut off to become a skirt for The Dread Pirate Rupert, which draws ridicule from Jon. TDPR laughs off any criticism and says he’s wearing a dress, and he’s never putting pants back on. Ever. Even in Indianapolis.

Over at Moron camp, the pelicans are also still alive. The morons bicker over whether to build a different shelter or go find water. Finally, Tijuana happens to open the map, where the well is clearly indicated. While the others build an elevated shelter, Geekboy and Lill head off with the bowl and a few small bottles, cursing that no one looked at the map yesterday, and talking about what good friends they have become.

Back at camp, they are doing some monkey grooming! Michelle is helping Shawn stretch his hips (ooh baby! Maybe he WILL get in her panties) and Christa is picking larvae off of Jon. The Dread Pirate Rupert snores loudly. Burton says he hates to sit around, so he takes the spear gun and heads for the water with Shawn. Burton comments about the immense amount of fish nearby. Lots of fish are shown. Hundreds. And he spears…one. He returns to the beach to tribal cheers, and they proudly begin to roast the one, count ‘em one, fish over the fire. Hooray for Burton. Eight people, one fish.

This does not sit well with The Dread Pirate Rupert, who can’t let Burton assume the “Richard Hatch-fisherman” role. He takes the spear and heads to the water himself. He keeps coming back with fish, and now Burton is pouting. But eventually The Dread Pirate Rupert has plenty of fish, a case of exhaustion and second-degree burns all over his back. He’s happy to be the “caretaker.” His tribe loves him.

Cut to commercials, once again, leaving behind a shot of TDPR.

*******************

Day three dawns at Moron Central. Nicole, Geekboy and Darrah collect the first tree mail from a little pirate chest nailed to a half-buried rowboat. They find a note wrapped around a little toy cannon.

You failed in the village, you’ve failed with your hut;
You can’t read a map, crabs are biting your butt.
You’re stay’s almost over, you are all soon to go;
It’s just a replay of the old Pagong Show.
Quick, buy him some pants, send the dope back to Boston;
You are all up Sh!t Creek ‘cause you listened to Osten.

Finally getting the hint, Andrew begins to assert some leadership. He is immediately crowned King of the Morons by acclamation.

His first act of strategy is to bond with Osten, vowing that he will get naked whenever Osten’s droopy boxers slip down. RyanO also agrees to drop his pants, mostly because Nicole is still there and he needs to touch himself a lot. Under this decisive new management, Team Moron climbs aboard the rowboat and moves off to the challenge. They are rowing backwards.

Pan across the map to Snapping Duck Bay, where we meet up again with Long Jiffy Probe. The tribes assemble in front of two prop cannons. JP goes into some Hollywood tale of pirates and their treasure and the need to wave their stubby little cannons around. The challenge requires taking it apart to go through fences, across rocks, through mud and across the sand. They also have to bring a torch and a flag.
None of this drama matters, but it does give him the chance to reveal the immunity idol, which we’ve already in commercials. It’s a plastic skull impaled on a plastic axe, and it’s available at the Galleria Mall’s Halloween Adventure store for $34.95.

The challenge begins with the cannons lashed to the wheeled cart. They sit at the top of a ramp before a wide path of packed dirt. Jeff yells go, and Jon sprints down the ramp away from the group… oops, he forgot the cannon! He decides to go back and help. The Drunks begin rolling the whole contraption down the ramp and along the path, They immediately take the lead. Darrah carries the flag, Sandra the torch.

In true Moron fashion, the other team decided to take the thing apart. Never mind that it was built with wheels in the first place because it was too heavy to carry. Andrew and Osten are carrying the heavy gun barrel, while the others are rolling the cart. They go about 15 feet before they are 30 feet behind. It’s a narrow path, and there is no place to pass. They are doomed. They stop, put the thing back together, and press on. Nicole carries the flag, Lillian the torch.

Team Drunk arrives at the fence takes the cart apart and gets through the obstacle. The Morons arrive, but can’t quite catch up. The Drunks stream up the path, strewing logs in the road behind them. Now Christa has the flag. They arrive at the rock path, and Burton whines. Trish and Jon begin clearing the path, and Morons arrive behind the Drunks.

When men are stuck in traffic and have nothing to do, they often remove their pants. The Moron men (OK, not GeekBoy) get naked. Oddly enough, Tijuana keeps her pants on, but gets a blurry dot anyway. Baby got back, I guess.

As they move down the path, Moron is still trailing. An Emmy nomination, please, for the crew that gave us this shot:

They all continue down the narrow path until they reach the first wide spot, which happens to be the mud pit. Drunk begins clearing half the pit, and The Dread Pirate Rupert bulls the cannon through the mud with a series of roars.

Inexplicably, the Morons watch and wait, content to trail behind and move through the cleared but muddier path. When the two teams hit the beach, Drunk has a 50-yard lead. Wait! They don’t realize the wet sand near the water is a longer route, but will better support the load. They bog down completely in the dry sand. Moron swings wide, closer to the shore, and rolls right past them. Drunk realizes the error and swerves onto the damp sand. Moron builds a lead. But there is a dune to climb at the finish line, and the Morons stall on the hill, 15 feet from victory. Drunk streams past them to victory.
(Note to you Playboy subscribers with freeze frame: Michelle’s skirt repeatedly slips off at this point, revealing her naked butt cheeks. No blurry dot for the Joisey Fault Line.)

“Drunk wins Immunity,” shouts Jeff.

Some of the Drunks collapse, Shawn taunts the naked Morons. Jeff tells the naked Morons to go back to camp and meet him later at tribal council. When he says “someone is going home” the camera lingers on Nicole. Question for the producers: Is it still foreshadowing if you are hitting us with a blunt instrument?

It’s time to cut to commercials, and once again the final shot is of The Dread Pirate Rupert, this time using the immunity idol as a toothpick.

When we get back, the Drunks are giddy over the victory. Shawn credits it to willpower, and says the other team gave up.

They are also commenting on the Moron nudity. Michelle: “Their asses were in my face!” Sandra: “I wasn’t impressed. I wish their ding-a-lings got stuck on a vine.”

Moron returns to camp dejected. Andrew gives the stock speech used by all losing coaches. “We lost, we came close, we learn from it, we remember what jerks they were, we get ‘em next time.” Uh-huh. Gonna be a real long season, coach.

Later, Darrah, Nicole and Tijuana meet up with Andrew and RyanO on the beach. Andrew wants to vote off GeekBoy for his lack of effort in the challenge, and calls him a limp noodle. (Uh, Andrew? He kept his pants on. It’s YOUR limp noodle that was unveiled at the challenge.)

While they debate whether to eliminate Lill or Geekboy, back at the camp, the two targets feel the heat. Lill is lamenting how she doesn’t fit in. GeekBoy tells her to “hang in there, this thing changes every day.

“When your torch goes out, then give up,” he says. “It’s over then, but not until then.”
Maybe I’m looking ahead too far, but that sounded to me like the key quote of the episode.

In past seasons , some people have played this game really poorly. Some have been downright stupid. But now Nicole Delma takes this to a whole new level. Immediately after cementing herself into a five-member alliance bent on removing GeekBoy and Lill, she approaches Lillian about forming an alliance against Tijuana.

Stupidest. Survivor. Ever.

Lillian seizes the opportunity, and runs to Andrew and RyanO with the idea. Andrew begins to laugh. He runs to tell Tijuana, who then runs to confront Nicole, who blames it all on Lill. Nicole is doomed, and she knows it. She even half admits it in confessional.

Speaking of confessionals, Darrah finally speaks. She’s got that southern drawl we all wanted to hear, but she doesn’t have much to say. She’s staying under the radar, thank you very much.

Andrew tells us that things have changed. GeekBoy and Lillian are still targets, but Nicole can’t be trusted. Yes, he is King of the Morons. Off they go to Tribal Council, still rowing backwards.

It’s dark when they arrive at the Pirates of the Panamanian: Cursing the Pearl Islands set. It’s a hastily constructed faux fort on a cliff overlooking the surf. Lots of flaming pots and blue and orange lighting, archs and barred gates. Something you might see in a Disney park.

The Morons are taking this seriously. Andrew is wearing his suit jacket. Osten has a torn jacket on as well. Long Jiffy Probe begins by having them all light torches, and then starts asking questions. JP wants to know if they have any regrets about getting naked, but the Chippendorks are proud of what they did.
With some more questioning, RyanO complains about the lack of water, Andrew complains about the lack of sleep, Nicole complains about the lack of foundation garments. Lillian describes herself as patient. Nicole says she has some friends, but can’t trust anyone. While she blathers on about friendship, the others begin rolling their eyes.
Lillian declares Andrew the leader, and Andrew shows real leadership skill by accusing GeekBoy of not pulling his weight in the challenge. GeekBoys says “Whatever.”

Nicole gets to vote first, she writes down GeekBoy’s name, knowing it’s a desperation move. She stuffs her ballot into a godawful urn (available at Halloween adventure for $29.95). Call it the Bowling Trophy of Doom.

The voting continues: Darrah and Andrew vote secretly, Tijuana votes for backstabbing Nicole. RyanO, Osten, GeekBoy and Lillian all vote secretly, which makes it immediately obvious that Nicole is losing, 7-1.

After a long dramatic pause and shots of our three targets, Jeff pulls the votes from The Bowling Trophy of Doom. Surprise! Nicole is ousted within the first six votes. Jiffy snuffs her torch with a little battle axe / torch snuffer ($11.95 at Halloween Adventure stores near you). She walks into the jungle, hoping to be reunited with her luggage.

Long Jiffy Probe pontificates to the Drunks, hammering home that “you are not out of this game until your torch is snuffed. Keep that in your head, you can always save yourself.” It’s an obviously scripted remark written to foreshadow the Big Twist, when Nicole returns with underwear.

Next time on Survivor: Life is good if you’re Drunk, until Shawn shows The Dread Pirate Rupert the broken fishing spear, and TDPR loses his cool. And a member of the Moron tribe wants to quit, which sounds like a pretty good idea from here.

For the final confessional, Nicole admits she couldn’t keep her mouth shut, which is in most cases is a real plus for massage parlor girls. She admits she “shot herself in the foot,” and says that “was probably not the best way to play the game.”

Honey, you got that right. No “happy ending” for you!!!