There’s unhappiness afoot, and it wears on the psyches of some of the cast members.

For Team Lesnar, who is still flush with the victory earned in the last episode, it hinges upon the perceived slight of their coach labeling them as “chicken sh*t”.  “I think they’re insulted at the idea of you calling them chicken sh*t,” assistant coach Erik Paulson says to the ex-champ.

“Why, that’s chicken–” but Lesnar stops himself, and soon he’s assembled his troops to clarify what is clearly his most favorite catchphrase ever.  “Guys, I think you’re all misunderstanding me.  When I say someone is ‘chicken sh*t’, I’m merely referring to the fact that they are not yet competitors on the Ultimate Fighter.  However, you are all on the show, so therefore, you’re chicken salad.”  He points to one of his wards, a nameless fighter who will be forgotten the second this season ends.  “You, you’re chicken salad.  But the mailman and the bus driver?  They’re chicken sh*t.  Understand?”

Everyone nods.

There is, though, more unhappiness festering, and it takes the form of Team dos Santos assistant coach Lew Polley.  Polley, it seems, grew up idolizing “Grouchy Smurf”, and as a result, hates everything and everyone.  “Y’all suck!” he screams at his team, and he pushes them to spar so hard that a few of them die.

“You are pushing them a little too hard,” says the impossibly amiable Junior dos Santos.

“Oh, okay,” says Polley, and that’s the drama-less end of it.

Lastly, the sinister tendrils of unhappiness stretch out and take hold of Team Lesnar top seed Len Bentley, who believes that teammate Chris Cope is too cordial with dos Santos’ boys and therefore must be telling them secrets.  As Bentley has been chosen by his esteemed sensei to face Ryan McGillivray, he’s especially concerned that all his special kung fu moves are being given away.  He takes Lesnar aside and voices his concerns.

“Whatever,” says Lesnar.  “Hey, I’m hungry.  You want some chicken salad?”  He adds: “By the way, I have some personal business to attend to and won’t be there for your fight.”  Lesnar hands Bentley a shiny World Wrestling Entertainment championship belt.  “But here, you can prop this up in your corner.  I guarantee it will be just as good.”

It’s training montage/get-to-know-the-fighters time, and we’re treated to Bentley working out when everyone else is relaxing.  McGillivray, meanwhile, has to cut weight so he takes a hot bath in a tub full of water, Epsom salt and rubbing alcohol.  Folks, don’t try this one by yourself at home, ‘cause if you pass out in there, you will die looking like a piece of dehydrated fruit.  Oh, also, McGillivray misses his little daughter, and totes around a small photo of her.

Fight day arrives, and Dana White shows up with then-champ Mauricio “Shogun” Rua in tow.  At this point in time, Shogun is calm and relaxed, ignorant of the devastation Jon Jones will visit upon him at UFC 128 months later.

Round 1 begins and Bentley lands a crushing left that drops McGillivray like a sack of potatoes.  The Team Lesnar rep follows it up with some ground-and-pound, mashing those very same potatoes, but the potatoes rally and transform into overcooked French fries (i.e., McGillivray drops Bentley and pounds on him back).  The round ends with both men having come close with submissions – the worst-case scenario for the judges.  Round 2 gets underway and it’s more or less two exhausted dudes throwing one or two punches at a clip, wheezing, throwing some more, wheezing… you get the point.  Does anyone get their ass kicked?  Not really.  Does anyone look bad?  Not really.  Do they impress Dana White with their efforts?  Yes, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.

Despite the closeness of the scoring, the judges decide that no third round is needed.  McGillivray is declared the winner via majority decision (one judge felt it was a draw.  Cecil Peoples, however, was sure Rich Franklin deserved the nod, while Douglas Crosby saw Frankie Edgar taking all five rounds). 

Back in the locker rooms and we see Bentley, downcast and disappointed in defeat.  The scene switches to dos Santos’ team, and McGillivray is choking back tears.

“Why are you crying?” ask the Brazilian of his young ward. 

McGillivray wipes his eyes.  “God, I miss Brock.”

“Oh,” says everyone else on the show.  “We didn’t even notice he was gone.”