The four remaining chefs were stranded on a deserted isle and had to cook a strange delicacy for a bunch of landed aristocracy. You know, just another Wednesday! And Padma showed off her bikini body. BOOOIIIIIINNNNGGGGGG!!!!

That is the sound that everyone's eyes and bones made when Padma strutted down Dock 69 in her animal print bathing suit. But that moment was yet to come, we have some other matters to deal with first.

The chefs all went down to the kitchen at the Atlantis resort and there was some cross-promotional apparition there named Lorena Garcia. She's on some show on NBC that isn't Celebrity Apprentice or The Family Wine Hour with Kathie Lee and No Vowels and those are the only two shows I watch in that post-Leno apocalypse wasteland, so I have no clue who she is.

"Listen up, chumps," Padma says. "You lazy bastards may be able to cook one dish, but can you cook a hundred dishes and have them all turn out the same? Can you even count to a hundred? I doubt it. Alright, make 100 plates of food exactly the same for the guests of the Atlantis resort. They're not letting your fat asses stay here for free!"

They pair off into two groups, Richard picks Mike, so Black Tiffany is looking around for her partner and she doesn't see anyone until the disembodied ghost named Antonia possesses her and gives her the strength of a thousand chefs.

Cook, cook, cook; plate, plate, plate; boring, boring, boring. The girls win. Boring.

Then Padma says. "Listen assholes. My very fancy friends from the Bahama Yacht Club are having their 80th anniversary dinner and you're going to cook it. On a beach. And it better be good, because these people are very, very rich and they're the ancestors of pirates, so they're also very, very mean. Meaner than me. Now, go to the boat and we're going to take you to the deserted isle where you'll be cooking. And if your food sucks we're going to leave you there with Tom Hanks and a volleyball with a face on it. See you next Tuesday!"

They go upstairs and and their knifes and their chef coats on, and they have to walk down to the boat that is going to drop them off at their final destination. There, at boatslip 69, stands Padma in a bikini with a sarong barely covering her hips and she's leaning on the boat showing off her absolutely flawless bodies. "Hey assholes!" she shouts, but this time it's in a coy teasing way, like she actually has a smile. She looks like Venus, newly emerged from the surf, or a 14-year-old boys favorite picture in a Victoria's Secret catalog. Everyone is turned on. Tiffany and the ghostly Antonia are all a-tingle and licking their lips. Richard Blais can barely look at her and reverts to eight-grade dance behavior of staring at his feet and holding his clasped hands over his groin. Mike Isabella on the other hand, is visibly aroused. "Hey there. It looks like it's time to par-tay!"

"There's something I forgot to tell you," Padma says, her high heels clacking against the dock as she shakes her hips and sashays toward Mike. "There's one little itty-bitty thing I forgot to tell you. There's one ingredient you have to use in your dish." She presses her crotch against the front of Mike's leg and lays her ample chest on his very considerable flesh, running one finger down the side of his opposite temple. "I need you to cook your dish using," she takes a pause as she presses herself up closer to him, "Conch," she says in barely a whisper. With that, Mike's face turns bright red and he makes a loud noise like steam flowing through a whistle. He herks and jerks a few times on the pier saying, "Oh god. Oh god. Oh. Oh. Oh!" and then he stops and goes slack, panting and wiping some sweat from his brow.

"Now stop staring me, you fucking perverts, and go catch me some...conch." See, that's the thing about conch. It's an inherently dirty word. It sounds so much like "fuck" or "cock" that it really could be either. I bet Sylvester would sing "Do You Wanna Conch." And every time someone says "conch" on the show (or in this recap), if you insert the word "cock," it's totally hilarious. Antonia actually says, "That's not a lot of meat for a large conch." Ha! These jokes write themselves, people.

They get on the boat and are welcomed by Capt. Andy, who looks more like a hair metal rocker than a pirate, except that he has a peg leg and a parrot tattooed on his shoulder. "Arrrgh. Welcome aboard, land lubbers. Are you ready for your perilous journey?" They all say yes, and Capt. Andy pulls the boat into the clear blue sea and the wind whips through their hair as they take a moment to relax before their big cooking challenge. "Do you want to hear a story, mateys?" Capt. Andy rasps at them as they lounge in the boat. They all say sure. "If you want to hear the story of the deserted island you're going to, turn to page 37. If you want to hear the story of how the island is haunted by a ghost named Antonia, turn to page 53."

Page 53. "Argh. It was a long long time ago, and we had just finished raping the ship of Captain Purple Parrot of all his riches and we even grabbed his Italian scullery maid by the name of Antonia. She cooked the best grouper on the whole of the seven seas. We were Antonia's grouper groupies. We chained her up in the galley and made her cook for us day and night. Oh, we loved Antonia so. But one fateful night, we had a visiting female pirate by the name of Salty Pea Lakshmi, the meanest bitch south of the equator, and the scourge of the Indian Ocean. She insisted that we have conch with our dinner. Antonia said no, she didn't wait to ruin the flavor of her grouper. But Salty Pea insisted. We told Antonia she had to use our conch. She had to use every one of our conchs. So she cut all our conchs up into little tiny pieces and put it on top of our fish and served it up to Salty Pea. When she ate her meal the conch was so small hse insisted it wasn't there. Salty Pea flew into one of her infamous rages and insisted there was no conch. 'There's conch in there. There's a whole lot of conch in there. But Salty P has had so much conch, that she can't feel when there's only a little conch,' Antonia scowled. Salty P would not stand for her insolence, and forced me to make Antonia walk the plank. But we had such love for her, we tied her hands loosely, so that she could swim to shore. She landed on this very isle, where she cooked and cooked until the day that she died, insisting that she or her ghost would one day take revenge on Salty P. No, get off my boat, mateys, and go cook some food. Not for me, do it for the ghost of Antonia."

Capt. Andy kicked them off the ship and they had to swim to shore where they found boxes and boxes of food, but no conch, the one ingredient they had to have. There was a box labeled "conch" but there was no conch in the box, and you know that a box with no conch is a very sad box indeed. They had to go catch all their own conch. Yes, that means swimming. The girls had no problem, but Mike Isabella, well, he had a distinct problem. Ever since he was a tubby kid at the Paramus Boys Club when he used to swim with his shirt on and get teased, he hasn't really like swimming. But he took his shirt off and it killed every bit of amorous excitement left over in the audience from seeing Padma in her bikini earlier.

Swim, swim, swim; conch, conch, conch; cook, cook, cook; boring, boring, boring. All the guest arrive and everyone is wearing white and linen and khaki. It looks like a KKK meeting except everyone took off their hoods and they all appear to have lots and lots of money.

Richard Blais—who, if he was a pirate would be called No Beard, or perhaps just Scraggle—thinks that he's an artiste and says that he hates everything he does as soon as its finished cooking. It's sort of like the way a priest feels after one of his special confessions, that strange blend of pleasure and guilt and regret and the strange gnawing in the gut that you know you can't undo what has just happened. That's how Richard feels about his sweet potato linguine and conch dish. He was afraid it was too Hamptons and too classic. As the ghost of kitchen wench Antonia pointed out, he made noodles out of sweet potatoes. There is nothing classic about that. Then he cut off his own ear.

It's Antonia's turn. As she carries her dishes out, a storm rolls in. The skies get cloudy and the sees get rough. "Welcome to my island!" she says, mysteriously. "I made my famous grouper with chopped conch on top. You better enjoy it. Oh, you better enjoy, Salty Pea!" She glares and Padma, who for the first time has a flash of recognition. "Do I know you from somewhere? Have you served this dish before?" Antonia raises her arms up high and the breeze rips across the table, blowing out the candles and pushing her hair and garments back in a giant flutter. Thunder crashes and she puts her arms down. "Looks like you'll find out."

Then Tiffany served some nasty chower with cold fish in it. Not just any cold fish, ceviche, a dish that does not exist in the universe outside of Top Chef. And why she'd put a cold dish in hot soup. That's just...well, it's something. If you think it's stupid, turn to page 12. If you think it's clever and you want ice cubes on top of the cheese of your French Onion soup, turn to page disgusting.

Mike was the last one up and he served fish smoked in banana leaves (the bête noir of Elia, who lost twice for the dish) with a savory pineapple and lots and lots of butter. Like Mike was telling Padma on the pier, things are always more fun if you have lots of fat to play with. But Mike told us that he knew they were going to the Bahamas, so he knew there would be lots of conch. He spent his time on the break playing with his conch at home so that when it came time to play with his conch in front of guests, he'd do a really good job. He even had a little interlude where he and Angelo were playing with each other's conchs. He got some really good conch tips from Angelo.

The judges and the guests like everything, but had some quibbles with each dish. I guess that's what the competition is all about now, just one or two little thing going a bit wrong that separates one chef from the pack. Though Tom wasn't a huge fan of Mike's buttery leaf fish, the ladies convinced him otherwise. And Tom announced that Mike won, not the guest judge. Hmm. We wonder what happened. She probably did something to piss off Padma, who once again reminded everyone that she won the motherfucking show a motherfucking Emmy. Gail went to her happy place, which is apparently sailing small crafts in the Great Lakes in a far far away land known as Canada. Gail is Canadian! Man, they're like the aliens on V. They hide among us.

They sent Black Beard Tiffany home for her nasty chowder. It was time. And this wasn't the place for Tiffany. No, this is a pirate story and Black Tiffany is clearly a character out of a western. When she was booted she said, "Thank'ee kindly ma'am. I hope to see all of y'all in Dallas one day," and tipped her ten gallon hat at the judges. "Well, y'all. Guess it's time I get back home to Beaumont, Texas. There's a chuck wagon with my name on it, just waitin' for me to come home to it." She put on her fringed vest and her chaps, and walked that duck-legged walk of the weary cowgirl. But even cowgirls get the blues, and she cried a few tears as she mounted her trusty steed. But she rode that mare right off the island, across the clear blue water churning with pirates. And they made way for Black Tiffany, the Cowgirl Queen of the Seven Seas, and bowed their head in respect as she galloped over the waves, right over the surf, all the way back to Texas.