After a sloooooow start, this season of “Survivor” finally got fascinating, not because of twisty game play or compelling personalities, but because nature, dehydration and bad luck conspired to mess with the heads of some of the most clueless players EVER.

And I’d feel bad for all of them if they weren’t so…goofy.

Last time, Evil Russell was having a puppet master moment, crowing that “because of me,” Ashley, the latest bootee, was “going home.” Which isn’t true at all – he simply went along with the group because the tide was turning, when he wanted to vote off Liz. I don’t know what’s more annoying – his delusion or the fact that the show is so desperate to maintain the narrative that it’s using revisionist editing.

In the beginning, everyone is sad, because it’s raining cats, dogs, frogs and sea lions – everyone but Evil Russell, who wants to “be somewhere i cant take my family, where it’s miserable.” Russell, please come in from the rain and have a big hearty glass of Shut Yer Stinking Trap. It’s delicious! And minty!

(And what is happening to his beard, the shocking, spotty bits under his chin? Bad shaving? A virus? A rogue attack by the chicken Shambo let loose?)

He’s not the only Russell with hair issues – right now, Good Clueless Russell’s braids look like antennae, sticking out as he scowls in the rain. And the message they’re receiving ? “You shoulda picked a tarp during that reward, because you be shivering in the rain!”

Maybe because it’s he’s a good leader, or because he’s guilty about the tarplessness, or because he’s just stubborn, but Good Clueless Russell is toiling away in the rain as the rest of Galu huddles under a tree, tries to keep warm and dry, and wonders why he’s working so hard – “No one expects you to do that,” Brett tells him.

OK, you didn’t ask me here in the nice dry apartment why Russell’s trying to make a fire, but I’m gonna take a stab at it – Because the rest of y’all are huddled under a tree, and fire keeps you warm and cooks you food, and Domino’s doesn’t deliver to your camp, and because you’re ridiculous? Just a thought.

Meanwhile, Leader Mick at Foa Foa is hiding in a tree, disgusting Evil Russell, who can’t believe what a candy-butt tribe he got stuck with – “Where they all from, New York City?” he snarls. Yep! That’s where they make that salsa! My favorite is Pipe Down Hoser Picante Sauce. I hear they make that wherever you’re from.

Sadly, Evil Russell won’t eat it – “If you dont throw up after every single challenge you didnt do your job,” he continues. Hosey Hose, you didn’t throw up every challenge? Why are you saying things that don’t make any sense? Don’t you know that these wild faux Hemmingway ramblings are recorded, where people can compare the things you’re boasting about to what actually happened?

There’s a rainbow over at Galu, which Good Clueless Russell believes is a good sign. Sadly, that’s the last good thing that’s gonna happen to our friend GCR in this game. We’re at the next challenge, where one member of each tribe will be strapped inside a large sphere, and command blindfolded tribe members to guide them and the sphere through a course. Admittedly weak, GCR decides to be part of the steering committee, which turns out to be a horrific idea when he passes out. He wants to get up and start again, but he can’t stand up. It’s pretty scary.

He wants to keep going, and Probst tells him it’s not gonna happen. The Dimpled One tells both tribes that they’re facing elimination at Tribal Council – both of them! – and to go back to their camps and figure it all out. And the negotiations are as maddening and stupid as you might expect from these two tribes. Over at Foa Foa, both Liz and Natalie are like “Well, one of us dumb girls is going home, because we can’t fight it, so instead of working like the Devil to talk their way out of elimination, we’ll just plan on voting for each other, because we’re just girls who can’t do nuthing.” I flog you both in my brain.

Meanwhile, Shambo knows she’s on the chopping block, and because she’s not trying to go out like a crazy Rambo-loving punk, she starts trying to negotiate. She’s not the most eloquent person ever, but at least she’s trying. You know, to survive and all.

At Tribal Council, both tribes are there, and get the news that Good Clueless Russell is, indeed, not coming back. This freaks everybody out, and causes them to wax philosophic about all kinds of mess that doesn’t solve anything. Eric, particularly, is in a bad way. If you’re looking for a GIANT ANVIL FROM THE SKY TO POINT OUT WHO’S FRAGILE AND RIPE FOR THE BOOTING, I’d be looking Eric’s way. Just thinking.

All the freaking turns out to be for naught, because Probst announces that there is no vote. Nobody’s going home, but Galu’s gotta pick a new leader. Oh, this is gonna be good. As in, it’s gonna be BAD. Which is gonna be fun to watch.