This week's episode began in the wake of Mary Ellen's surprise departure. With a wave of guilt overcoming her, Jessica ran off to the bathroom where she bawled in a stall. I always get excited for the bathroom cam because I hold out hope that maybe, just maybe, someone will get a kidney stone again. Unfortunately, lightning -- and calcium deposits -- don't strike twice. Hmmm... maybe Ralphy Boy will stir things up with another egregious erection instead. Or maybe Jimmy will simply take the world's largest shit (you know it's bound to happen one of these days).

N-E-hoo, while Jessica cried by her pee-pee, the narrator piped up to state the obvious once again: "Although Andrew wasn't sent home this time, he knows he is far from safe." Really! Seeing him cradling his head in his hands surely seemed like a cocky gesture of confidence! I hate you, narrator.

Speaking of Andrew, he had this to say: "This is the most hostile environment I've ever worked in, and THAT is hell." Ahem, Hell's Kitchen, if you will. Seriously, finish off the pun or get off my TV, jerk.

Meanwhile, in the dorms (or "soundstage basement" as I like to call it), Ralph and everyone else chowed down post-elimination. Andrew, however, was not present. "He's probably in psycho-therapy right now," joked Elsie in her Fat Albert voice. Well, Andrew wasn't in therapy, but if a few guys with a straight jacket and some cattle prods showed up, I wouldn't be surprised. The hidden cams caught Andrew alone in his bedroom doing some wonderful schizo routines. Seriously, Adrian Brody would be proud. "I'm still doing something right. I'm still doing something right. I'm still doing something right," Andrew muttered over and over and over again before snapping and yelling, "I SUCKED IT!" YES! Psychotic meltdown! Paging Tom Cruise. We have a vulnerable headcase in need of Xenu. Dr. Cruise! Dr. Cruise!

The next morning, the narrator explained to us, "Individuals are trying to shine." The narrator then added, "You see, when I say 'shine', I don't mean literally like in terms of brightness. I mean that they're all trying to get noticed, be superstars, if you will. Maybe I'm not making myself clear. What I'm trying to say is... I'm sorry, I'm not very articulate. Oh, you understand? Really? Because I can explain it some more."

Anyway, after assembling the Red and Blue teams, Gordon asked Ralph who he felt was the strongest link. Of course, Ralph said he was, but then he added, "Oh, did you say 'link'? I thought you asked, 'Who has the biggest morning wood right now.' Never mind." By the way, in case you're just joining us, I make these jokes because Ralph had a GI-NORMOUS boner last week. I'll probably be making fun of him for it until he's eliminated (much the same way I harped on Mary Ellen's endive obsession).

G-Ram then asked Chris who he thought the strongest chef on his team was, and like Ralph, Chris said he was tops. Wow, over Michael? Hmmm... that's kind of, I don't know, not correct. But whatever. Chris then singled Jimmy out for being the worst, to which the portly chef replied (to us, at least) "I'm gonna show him that the weakest can go from the bottom to the top." Yeah, that's great. Just don't drop anything, Señor Klutzsky.

With this silly segment over, Chef Ramsey announced that Hell's Kitchen would be scrapping its menu and turning into a pasta restaurant. Or as Gordo calls it, "pass-ta." We then watched as he demonstrated how to properly make pasta. "Chef Ramsey demonstrates how to properly make pasta," noted the narrator in yet another obtuse and unnecessary observation. Is anyone else sensing a drinking game coming on? Take a shot every time the narrator needlessly explains obvious action. I swear, I'll do it this Monday, and I'll liveblog the whole thing. Seriously.

Anyway, after having made a batch of lovely spaghetti, Ramsey then did what any good chef will do: draped it on an underling. Yes, G-Ram covered Chris in the pasta, making for one HILArious sight gag. Oh Gordon, how you tickle me so! Pasta on a man? It's the new cream pie on the face!

Actually, there was some mild method to this madness. All this nonsense was simply a setup for the day's big challenge. The teams would compete to press the most pasta in ten minutes. Whatever was usable and approved by Gordon would then be weighed, and the team with the heaviest batch would win. Oh, and all eligible pasta had to be draped on a teammate. Because what's the fun of a bowl when you've got sweaty Jimmy!

Well, the challenge got underway, and within seconds, teams were powdering their workstations with flour. "It was so incredible," noted Elsie. Yes. Flour. Incredible. The splendor is jumping off the screen. Elsie then added, "It reminded me of the first time I used baking soda. I orgasmed twelve times that night."

After ten minutes, the challenge came to halt and Gordon began inspecting the goods. Surprisingly, he seemed quite pleased with his protégés. He even remarked, "immaculate" and "very nice" at one point. Wow, these guys have come a long way since Dewberry's baked spaghetti disaster. Oh, Dewberry... (cue Kenny Rogers singing "Through The Years").

Posted by B-side on July 1, 2005 12:37 PM