And so this brings us to the mighty escapades of Sarah in Fiji as she desperately tried to be the slut she always dreamt she could be. Turns out three British teenagers were also hanging around the resort, most likely having one of those homoerotic coming of age stories that European cinema loves so much. Horny Sarah decided to prey on British guy #1 - a.k.a. Freddie. Why him? He had good teeth for a British guy, said Sarah. And honestly, isn't that all you can ask for? We never got a good view of Freddie's orthodontically approved mouth, but we'll just assume "good for a British guy" meant about four or five straight, un-eroded teeth.

Sarah immediately got to work with Freddie, giving him longing stares and thrusting her surgically enhanced heaving bosom his way. It was all so romantic, what with the cameras and sound people right there, not to mention the frequent yells of "Boola!" in the background. Man, these people really like to say hello. Eventually, Sarah seduced Freddie into her island hut, but this international affair was short lived as the two emerged shortly after. Her crooked tube top and the unopened condom on the floor suggested that Freddie's erection quickly deflated upon viewing Sarah's silicon orbs of desire.

How does that old saying go? If at first you fail, try try again? Well, time for the second "try" of that expression. To Sarah's credit, she was very forthright about her mission. Bitch just wants to get laid. Can't fault her for that. Nevertheless, Sarah quickly pounced on Freddie' friend, literally only known as "British guy #2." This young bloke seemed up for the challenge, and when Sarah trapped him in her hut of vaginal bliss, we thought our resident nymph had finally found Mr. Right.

Enter Shavonda, the reigning cockblock of the season. In typical fashion, Shavonda knocked gently on the hut door, claiming she needed to get something. Dammit, girl! Sarah's been looking for some action all season. Wait ten minutes! Oh, but I forgot. Shavonda's living as Shavonda, not Shavonda and Sarah. She needs those breath mints!

Well, Shavonda entered and in a flurry of activity, British Guy #2 sprinted out of Sarah's sexual prison faster than Britney Spears at a corndog festival. Exactly what is Sarah doing in there? Luring them with the promise of Mel's scabies?

Continuing her work as the Fijian Queen of the cockblock, Shavonda's next target was none other than drunken moppet Landon. The two convened for a dependably boring stroll along the beach where they marveled in the wonder of astronomy: "The moon is lit from below!" exclaimed Landon. Yes, it's almost like he was at a different "latitude" or in a separate, how do you say, "hemisphere"! Amazing! Lunar bombshells aside, the two plopped their asses down in the sand and had a heart to heart where Landon slurred his way through some uninspired observations about who knows what. How's that five beer max going? Way to kick the habit! Later, Landon pulled a kitchen knife out of his back pocket and threatened to shiv a palm tree.

Elsewhere, Grendel's Mom — I mean, Sarah — found prey in Brit #3. It's always a bad sign when your have to enumerate your booty calls. The two snuggled on the beach and later made out, but once again, Sarah announced that they did not have sex. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear someone singing "'Cause it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old baaalll gaaaame!"

The next morning, Melanie was oh so kind to tell Sarah that all the British guys think she's a slut. We didn't get to actually see this exchange, but the footage of Sarah shuffling away dejectedly let us know that Mel had just leveled her with her PA cannon. "I'm just looking out for Sarah," Mel explained to Landon, as she watched her latest victim skulk off with Willie for the inevitable bitch session. Sure enough, that's exactly what they did as they tanned by the waves. Willie thought they were having a heart to heart, but little did he know that Sarah was merely offering up her body to Spongebob, lest he emerge from the deep.

That night, the clan participated in a local ritual involving dancing and singing and other stuff that would give Jeff Probst a boner. Landon gabbed about how wonderful it was, describing the natives as bestowing them with "weird signs of affection." Or "traditional customs" as they might call it. Landon then asked where the Fijian McDonalds was because he was a bit turned off by the "wacky not-Big Macs."

After the evening's activities, Mel cozied up with British guys 1, 2, and 3, much to Sarah's displeasure. This led to an emergency bitchfest back at the hut where Sarah, Shavonda, and Landon let loose on why Earth would be better without Melanie. Luckily, some production assistant probably fetched Melanie with the line "You forgot your, uh, thing in your hut," because after just a few minutes of the bashing, Melanie popped in the door with her heavily promoted line, "So, were ya talkin' 'bout me?" Actually, yes. Sarah and Mel had a useless heart to heart which was laced with little pearls of passive aggression. It seemed like no matter what Sarah said, Melanie's response was "Oh, I'm SO sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you... But you did hook up with three guys last night, just saying."

Meanwhile, in the straight guy's hut, Shavonda and Landon smooched under the covers while MJ aired out his omnipresent armpit. In case you actually thought Shavonda was going to give up her cockblocking ways, you'd be wrong. After a decent amount of liplocking, she suddenly sprung from the bed and returned to her Maison de Celibacy (aka - the hut she shared with Sarah). Blast! Foiled again!

Posted by B-side on January 20, 2005 4:28 PM