It's the aftermath of Ramsay's decision to send a woman from Red Team over to help the imbeciles on Blue, which, as has been pointed out, is a no-win situation for the men. Win, and the addition to the team gets the credit. Continue to lose, and it just means they're so hopeless, even with the new help they can't cook risotto and scallops. Paul wants to adopt a position of Bros and a Ho Before the Rest of the Hos, because he's tired of getting his ass kicked. Meanwhile, the women have come to an understanding that maybe splitting up Carrie and Elise isn't the worst idea in the world, since they're always at each other's throats. There is much talk of that mythical reality-show trope, the opportunity to "step up." There is a little bit of whining about breaking up the team, and Natalie's the one to point out that ultimately they're all competing against each other anyway; she's ready to volunteer, but in the end Carrie volunteers to go, since she enjoys working with men and also accelerating the spread of diabetes in Texas with sugary mashed potatoes, so this is going to be her chance to shine.
With that decided, everyone goes off to a "peaceful slumber," and by just the fact that it's being pointed out, you know ****'s going to go down. Like the kid with the electric guitar last week, only now it's a bunch of clowns. I don't mean the Blue Team, I mean a literal bunch of clowns, who pull up in a Beetle with a wind-up key on the back, and unending stores of big shoes and whimsy.
None of the cheftestants are amused to be woken up by this horror show. Some are angry, and some are actually scared. And if clowns weren't enough, we're also going to be subjected to Carrie looking tired and wearing no makeup. Will also blearily stumbles around, wondering where he put his J.A. Henckel knives.