Something Borrowed, Someone Blue — Part 2

Rejected. I think one of the worst things you can do as a hotel is you can offer fresh cookies in the lobby. I do not almost ever need them offered to me for no reason.

Adopted. I think in the worst hotel room, you know, instead of having a real door, this one only has a sliding glass door with beads coming down. Because it's a clear door. So you have to have something. So it's privacy beads. So I'll let it pass as being awful. Minibar choice. Brad chooses a miniature whiskey bottle. His bill starts at $14.

Rejected. And I would like to suggest that the lighting in our hotel room comes from one lamp that has no on or off switch. It must be plugged and unplugged, and it is not sat next to the mattress. It's like near the desk.

Rejected. You think it's polka dot, but it turns out there's just little holes in the sheets throughout all the sheets. I'm not saying it's a good, but if we're talking like the worst hotel room ever, like, if you're rejecting my lamp, I'm rejecting this.

Adopted. You know how in old-timey westerns, they go into the bar and they got that swinging door? That's your bathroom door. And there's no fan, no, like, noisy fan to turn on in the bathroom. If you're with some other person, right? That's the big, that's the asterisk to this one, which I think is fair to assume you are. Tie goes to the runner. Minibar choice. Curtis chooses a champagne split for $25. A later explanation describes a split as a 187 ml bottle; that explanatory speaker is unidentified.

Adopted. An enthusiastic hotel worker who wants to check up on you frequently and offer you tours and make sure there's nothing you need. Comes to your sliding glass door all the time, repeatedly. Minibar choice. Ryan chooses a miniature bottle of expensive red wine. His cumulative bill reaches $31. The $35 remark is a joke. No unit price is inferred.

Adopted. You know, you go into the bathroom, and only the tub works, but not the shower. So for you to do anything, you have to use the tub. I think you have to agree to reject it for it to be rejected. Minibar choice. Brad chooses white wine, bringing his cumulative bill to $32. No separate item price is supplied.

Rejected. Well, we also have one on the other side because there will be a window that faces another facade of the building of the hotel. And you will just have a straight shot at another hotel room's window. That's all you've got for a view. You'll notice I didn't mention a curtain.

Rejected. If you were at a place that offered pool snacks, like maybe a poolside quesadilla. It's like a poolside buffet. It's just sitting there. It's just sitting out. The proposal’s recorded outcome remains rejection. Brad says he does not like the buffet idea; this is not a final answer or award decision.

Adopted. So you're in the room and there's a chirping noise, but you can't figure out where the chirping noise comes from and it goes off like every five to seven minutes. It's not a fire alarm and you can't figure out what it is. Brad makes an annoying chirping noise and performs it a second time after the repeat request. Precise acoustic boundaries are not asserted. Minibar choice. Brad chooses mixed nuts. His bill reaches $39.50; a following remark mentions $7.50.

Rejected. I think there are his and hers sinks in the bathroom, which sounds nice, except for one of the faucets is scalding hot water and the other is frostbite cold. There's no mixing the two faucets into one warm temperature.

Rejected. Whenever you get the smoke alarm that is doing the green blinky light right over your head for some reason. It blinks like every 13 seconds, so you can't even quite get the rhythm right. It's bright enough that you see it through your closed eyelids somehow. Ryan attempts to claim an award, but the later group response rejects the proposal.

Rejected. So mine is, yeah, you check into your hotel, and you put your luggage at the bellhop, and then you get to your room, and you're waiting for them to bring your stuff, and they've lost your luggage. So you don't have your luggage for the whole rest of the trip. It wouldn't necessarily be everyone's room, but it happens a lot more often than it should. Yeah, this is objectively horrible, but I'm worried it's disqualified. It's not really counting for what we're doing here.

Rejected. There is a television in the room. A nice one. A 65 inch. All it gets are religious channels. But nowadays, you can just watch things on your iPad or your computer. In fact, I welcome it.