Amazingly enough, the Bransens made it to the Roadblock in time and got to go first. Tommy Linz was ever so supportive as he yelled out, "Don't puke!" Meanwhile, outside, the Godlewskis roamed around the complex, looking for the hangar. "A hangar is an airplane," one of them declared. "No, a hanger is what an airplane is in," corrected another. "Are you sure?" asked the first girl. Cut to me pulling my hair out. I can just imagine that Godlewski girl taking a seat in a hangar and waiting for the building to go airborne. "Oh my gaaash. Why aaaren't we in the skayyyye?"

After the Bransens finished the Roadblock, they then had to run to "rocket park," find the Saturn Five, and then a computer terminal featuring (trumpets, please) a huge product placement for AOL. Will this be a repeat of the internet café fiasco from season 6? Don't know. In the meantime, the Linz brothers got in the centrifuge where Tommy, still basking in the afterglow of his shrimp hookup I'm sure, revealed some not so pleasant news. "Dude, I gotta fart!" he laughed as his brother grimaced. I wonder, do farts smell worse at 3 g's? And would this emission be silent but deadly, much like the maligned strategy of the Weavers?

We then saw the Schroeders enjoying the centrifuge -- "My arm is very heavy!" announced the dad with delight -- and then we caught up with the Bransens who had arrived at their computer terminal. What delights would AOL have in store for our racers? Why, only the best delight ever: Phil! Yes, a little, unnecessary video of Phil popped up on the screen. "You are surrounded by the history of space exploration," he announced. Gotta love SpacePhil. I bet he has a house on the moon. Anyway, Phil announced that teams then had to find the Space Shuttle Pathfinder where they'd find the next Pit Stop. Okay, it's go time! By the way, Nick Linz wins the award of c-c-c-CRAZIEST AOL-watching eyes.

"Wait, internet porn's been here all this time?"

Anyway, the Bransens arrived in first place, despite papa Walter's physical setbacks, and even better yet, they won possibly the greatest prize of all: free gasoline for the rest of their life. Yes, you heard me correctly. FREE. GASOLINE. FOREVER. Courtesy of British Petroleum and Arco. That was such an amazing prize, I couldn't help but raise my Phil KeoKeoghanghan eyebrow in shock.

Speaking of gas, Tommy Linz and his siblings arrived in second place, and then we moved back to the open road where bus #2 was trekking on to Alabama. Unfortunately for the passengers, the Weaver kids had begun complaining. "It's wrong that we got three hours of sleep, and we tried to push a Jeep out of a mud bog," moaned one of the girls. Why was that wrong? Luckily, Marion was there for the color commentary: "She nervous. She's very nervous." Marion should totally do Monday Night Football. "Oh, Al, I don't like the looks of this play. He's very intimidating, that player. Hello! He should have passed the ball. No one ever ever EVER listens to me!"

Meanwhile, the self-victimization of the Weavers continued as Linda complained, "I am a prisoner on a bus." Listen, it's not like you're on a charter to hell. Lighten up. Enjoy yourself. Oh, poor Mrs. Weaver. She's a bit nutty and over-religious for my tastes, but I do enjoy her resolve and determination to keep her family together. With that being said, seriously, be quiet and let these people get some sleep. "They're absolute puddles," sneered David Aiello. Wow, you talk to your mother with that mouth?

Later, the bus took a pit stop at a Waffle House, and the Weavers continued to lose their shit as they cried in the bathroom. Linda told her kids to buck up and just fake happiness, which meant we then watched the Weaver women dancing and acting goofy in the parking lot. I think it was supposed to be HILARious, but it was kind of dumb. Besides, once they hit the road again, they picked up where they left off: complaining about not knowing where they were headed to. And to make matters worse, they even began singing about the situation too. I'll sing a song for them. I believe it's called The Sound of SILENCE.

The official dance of short shorts.

We then went back to Alabama where the Godlewskis had just finished the Roadblock. "That was so cool you guys!" they yelled, except it sounded more like "gayuys!" Dammmit, I wish there were a better way to convey insane midwestern accents. Well, the Pink Ladies arrived in fourth place, behind the Schroeders, who nabbed third. Meanwhile, the second bus arrived, and as teams drove to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center, we saw Linda poring over a map, quietly imploring, "Dear Lord, please give us the wisdom." At which point Jesus said, "Seriously, you have a map. What else can I give you?"

Posted by B-side on October 13, 2005 2:02 AM