Survivor: Palau - Episode 3 Summary

'Read My Lips: No New Jokes' By samiam

Last week on Survivor: Plow, Ashlee was voted out, and no one cared.

This week, we’re two shows in and there are STILL 16 of these people left. Shouldn’t we have had a swap or a merge or a jury or something by now?

We fade in. There is a crab walking on the beach. This being a Burnett show, however, we know that this is not an actual crab, but rather a Killer Robot Plot Twist Crab. Wait for it.

We are on Ulongdong’s beach. Jeff and StaphEnie are talking about how much going to Tribal Council sucks, and how vital it is that they not lose any more Immunity Challenges. Now, I haven’t been over to the Spoilers Board in about three seasons, but even I’m not stupid enough to ignore that this means they will, in fact, be going back. Not to ruin the show for YOU or anything. Not me. I’m all about The Nice.

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Kim chimes in and asks permission to come over and cuddle with Jeff, because I mean, it’s not like they have an alliance or anything, they just grope each other in the dark and it has nothing whatsoever to do with the game, and how DARE anyone think anything else, and who the hell does Jiffy think he is to try to make it into something that could affect the way the tribe views them or votes? It’s totally unfair and obnoxious, and he should stop trying to make Kim think about anything but Jeff and how warm he is. Kim is, apparently, new here.

Staph laments in a confessional that it wasn’t Kim’s useless whiny ass voted out instead of Ashlee. I lament that I can’t jump through the television screen and throttle Kim’s scrawny little neck. She is not representative of Kims as a whole, as we all know, and I’m offended by her attempts to approach the greatness that is inherent in Kims. Since she spends all of her time mewling, acting helpless, and wanting to curl up in Jeff’s lap, we’ll just call her Kitten. In her defense, she IS a graduate student, so she probably doesn’t know any better.

James: They say they ain’t doin’ nothin’, but we ain’t deaf, dumb, and blind like that pinball kid. I kin hear the slurpin’ sounds of young love breedin’. Not that I’m spendin’ all night sittin’ up, listenin’, an’ watchin’ and usin’ a li’l coconut milk to grease the wheels, so ter speak, don’tcha know. I don’ know what Jeff’s thinkin’, nohow. Ain’t no way I’m trustin’ somethin’ that bleeds fer five days and don’t dah.

Meanwhile, at Kororororor (the Korror! The Korror!), it’s daytime and raining. Their shelter leaks and doesn’t have a floor or a real roof and does not, in any way, shape, or form, resemble the definition of a shelter.

Tom: We’re getting wet at night, and we need a better shelter, or at least, we need to put a rubber sheet under Coby until he’s potty trained.

Coby: It’s so hard to win all the time. It means I can’t really start being as catty as I wanna be, and at this rate, I’ll NEVER be this season’s Jeff Varner.

Katie – and I had to look that name up, because for a minute I thought it was Ashlee returned from the dead – is very busy telling everyone what needs to be done, while insisting that she should definitely not be the person do actually do it. Evidently, Katie thought she was applying for The Apprentice.

Cyryn tells us that she thinks Katie tastes tart, which I think means Katie could have a yeast infection.

Cyryn decides to confront Katie about Katie’s choice of pastry, because, as we all know, it’s always a good idea on Survivor to air your frustration with another person by confronting them directly, and it never, ever makes the confronter look like a humorless, raving lunatic with a bad haircut. She also simply comes over to Katie, yells at her, and leaves, without giving Katie a chance to respond, or to discuss any problems between them in a civil way. Yes, I want Cyryn to be MY civil rights lawyer.

We fade out, and fade in to the reward challenge. WTF? No tree mail? This is completely unacceptable, so I have commissioned the following replacement treemail (and brief, but erudite, overview of the challenge itself):

That bitter twisted wreck of man doth wash
Upon Palau's green island beauty fair
Breadfruit and coconuts for him to nosh
And vipers for him to have protein there
But conflict a good story needs to make
For we, the home viewer's, thirst, need be slaked

And so upon the day appoint'd we rise
Down to the shore we go to find The Jeff
Our gaze can but hold to his dreamy eyes
Our lizard brains are moved to thoughts of Hef
He fires his brute machine, the life rings fly
Arc up and down across fair Palau's sky

Our heroes' very lives depend this day
Upon their will to swim and fight for all
The life rings seiz'd, they make their bloody way
Back through the fierce foe's flailing human wall
And score points though they could well end up drown'd
Duke sucks.

A prize will go to the first person to correctly identify the writer of those couplets as Landru.

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