This adventure began with Brooke walking hand-in-hand with her exotically gay roommate, Davis. "I think you're the most like me," she said, "which is bizarre because you're like completely opposite in that you're male and not straight." Um, so basically he's the least like you. Davis cleared things up, however, by observing, "We're both from the South, and we both like boys." Oh! Well, in that case, yes. You two are like identical twins. I often say that I was separated at birth from Condoleeza Rice -- you know, what with our shared enjoyment of breathing and speaking English.

Anyway, Brooke went on to announce that she had depression and anxiety, something Davis was unaware of. "You didn't know that?" Brooke squealed with shock. Funny, you'd think everyone would know considering how much of an impact Brooke has had on the season!

Well, walking with Brooke and Davis were Jenn and Colie. Yes, it was girls night out at -- where else? -- Monarck! It seemed to be a lovely night, and just as the guys had predicted, Jenn was screaming "Rockstar!!!" nonstop. But then something terrible happened. Dearest Colie began to feel sick! Just like that, a delightful night out at Monarck was cut short. Will they ever get to party there again???

The next morning, Colie arose to increased malaise. She had a sore throat, a head ache, and of course, nausea. As we all know, you can't say "Nausea" on The Real World without some enchanting sound effects, and true to form, we soon cut to Colie in the toilet, heaving her Monarck feast into the unsuspecting bowl below.

Well, what better way to celebrate this sickly occasion than by calling everyone in the phonebook? That's right, Colie first rang up her mother and promptly bawled that "I have a fever and my throat hurts and I threw up!" Yes, it's called "being sick." DEAL WITH IT. She then sobbed, "My lower back and my throat hurt so BAAAAAAD!!!" Tylenol, bitch!

Next up, Colie called her friend Lindsy (no "e" for her) and let her know that she was facing death straight in the face. Turns out this wasn't just a call to generate sympathy. Lindsy's fam actually lived in Denver, and it was now incumbent that they proceed directly to Colie's bedside and save her from the foul grips of illness. Soon, Colie was talking with Mitzi, Lindsy's mom, who said, "I am so, so sorry." Huh? It's not like Mitzi went up to Colie and shoved her face in a towel soaked in strep. You can relax, Mitz. It's not your fault.

Eventually, Mitzi showed up in the Miztimobile and spirited Colie off to the emergency room where the gender-bending double threat of Nurse Tony and Dr. Ryan deigned to stick an IV in poor Colie's arm. To say she winced would be an understatement. She bent her head back and bellowed with total, unmitigated pain. For a moment, I thought maybe someone had stabbed her in the gut, but it turned out that was only wishful thinking. Oh -- that was cruel. Sorry Coles! (But seriously, you need to shut up with the needle histrionics)