The episode began in Utah -- that most derided state by the Family Weaver. (It's less loved by God, according to Rolly and other uneducated children in America.) As the show revved up its engines, Phil reminded us that the Weavers, who had survived last week's non-elimination round, have been stripped of all cash. It's too bad. I was just thinking that Linda should really pick up another bottle of bleach. Her hair's been looking only semi ridiculous these days.

Well, the Linzes headed out of the gate first and were directed to Park City High School for their next clue. Unfortunately, poor Megan was feelin' a little sick. Maybe it was all that testosterone raging around her (they don't call Tommy "Uncle Bone" for nothin'). Anyway, the Bransens left the Pit Stop next, and here's a surprise. Oldest daughter Beth was not -- I repeat, was not -- wearing her giant, goofy hat. What gives? Maybe she gave it to the Weavers to use as a backpack.

Out next were the Oh-My-Gaaadlewskis who started this leg in insta-bicker mode. Poor, emotionally unstable Chrissy felt the brunt of this collective PMS-ing as her sisters harped on her for nearly every thing she said. Even that one quiet one -- Tricia -- snapped as she yelled "PARK CITY!" for no real reason.

"I just don't think it's, you know, polite for even my sisters to dis on me," Christine said. Yeah man. Why you got to be dissing on my homegirl Chrissy? She don't want to be put on blast, yo. If you gonna put her on front street, you better be ready to bring it, biatch.

Godlewski: The original G-Unit

Anyway, the Linzes finally arrived at Park City High School where they learned they'd be inflating a hot air balloon. Does this mean they'll be rigging Beth's missing hat to a basket and flying across the countryside? Well, as expected, the balloon experience wouldn't begin for several more hours, which meant there'd be a nifty time equalizer. But it wasn't a total loss. Basically, shuttles would take the teams to the balloon site starting at 6 AM and leaving every ten minutes. You know the drill: take a number, wait your turn, etc.