(Without televisions in the house, Ramsey and Junior had to imagine what happened on the ‘Jersey Shore’ finale. / Props: IronForgesIron)

Lew Polley thinks Team Dos Santos is outworking Team Lesnar, and believes Brock Lesnar has already lost interest. “Junior legitimately cares about how these kids are doing,” he says, totally contradicting the trash he’ll talk after the show wraps.

Lesnar, who missed last week’s fight due to a family obligation, returns to a very luke-warm welcome. “Len, I heard you fought hard buddy,” he says. Len Bentley isn’t interested in such pleasantries. After going 1-2 in the first three fights, Team Lesnar is down to “The Four Horsemen”: Tony Ferguson, Clay Harvison, Chuck O’Neil, and Charlie Rader.

But in practice, the Horsemen are performing like a bunch of damn fillies. Clay is sleepwalking through practice, and Charlie is lollygagging too. (Brock’s word, not mine.)

Chuck and Charlie were bros beforehand. They’re just living the dream right now. You know, throwing pillows in bedrooms and threatening to toss beds off balconies. That dream.

Junior Dos Santos selects his #4 pick Ramsey Nijem to take on Charlie Rader (Lesnar’s #2 pick). In Junior’s opinion, Ramsey has the best wrestling on his team. Says Charlie: “He’s a one-dimensional wrestler, and I’m gonna knock him out, period.”

Ramsey paints his toenails like a J.Crew sissy-boy. Chris Cope tries to bust his balls about it. “You’re a little princess!” he says. “I am a little princess,” Ramsey replies.

“You’re missing that Glee aren’t you,” Chris asks Ramsey. Damn right he is, among other shows. “Those kids are frickin’ talented,” Ramsey explains.

Like Nick Ring before him, Ramsey acts like a fruitcake to break the tension, or increase it, or both, or something. “I’m the ice-breaker, that’s what my dad calls me,” he tells us. (Right. That’s what he calls you.) Ramsey starts exotic-dancing for the boys, with a sock on his junk. He asks his bunkie Shamar Bailey to put some lotion on the part of his back that he juuuuust can’t reach. The weird thing? Shamar’s into it. It’s prison rules in there, bro. This guy knows what I’m talking about. ”Goodnight my chocolate friend,” Ramsey says to Shamar, tenderly, when they finish.

Team Lesnar thinks Ramsey’s just there for the show. Ramsey is fine with letting them think he’s a goofball.

Brock brings Matt Hughes in for a guest-appearance. “Their eyeballs fell out of their heads, and their jaws dropped,” Brock says about his team’s reaction. Well, sure. Their polite applause was just…overwhelming. (“OMG, is that Queen Esther herself?,” asks nobody.)

Hughes gets in a grappling session with Charlie. “This guy’s a legend in your weight class,” Brock tells the gang. “I don’t think the other team has been able to bring a guy from your own weight class for you guys to get a rub on.” I know, right? Shamar does what he can, but the poor guy only has two hands.

Ramsey’s gameplan is to throw some punches at first, then grab Charlie when he responds and take it to the mat. “I know I’m the best here,” he says. “No offense, but fuck everybody else because what they think about me obviously doesn’t matter.”

The last time Charlie lost a fight, it was because he underestimated his opponent’s wrestling. “Uppercuts and right knees,” Brock advises.

They have a big-ass Zen rock garden in the house. Chuck writes “Charlie Superstar Rader” into the sand.

Before the fight, Brock has to get something off his chest about Ramsey: “I just noticed something. If you don’t beat that guy, it’ll be a disgrace. Did you know that he paints his toenails?” The Brock Lesnar Faggometer is elevated to orange.

In the van heading to the fight, Team Dos Santos mocks Charlie Rader’s super-intense staredown. Shamar: “It must be something they go over in the locker room. Make sure you mean-mug and inhale deeply. If you can shake your pecs, shake your pecs too.”

And away we go…

Round 1: Charlie opens with a kick. Ramsey dashes forward with punches, and clinches with Charlie against the cage. Charlie keeps his feet underneath him. Charlie lands a knee to the leg. They trade knees to the body. Charlie gets his back off the fence for a moment. Another knee from Charlie. Another knee exchange. Some hard-looking knees to the legs from Ramsey. And it goes on like this. Finally, Charlie catches one low, and the ref restarts them separated after a quick break. Ramsey jabs, and wades in through punches to clinch again. More knees to the legs from Ramsey. Finally Ramsey gets his first takedown, but Charlie quickly scrambles out. Ramsey scores another takedown and throws down a couple strikes from the top. Charlie kicks off, Ramsey dives back in, and the round is over. You have to give it to Ramsey.

Round 2: Charlie swings desperately, looking for the knockout. Ramsey avoids the haymakers, connects with one of his own, and clinches again, dumping Charlie. Charlie gets back up. Ramsey with a knee to the face. Ramsey drops low and pulls off another takedown, ending up with back control. Ramsey gets his hooks in, and whips an arm underneath Charlie’s chin. Charlie taps as soon as the choke is set up.

Brock says that Charlie just didn’t have it in him that day. Before the fight, Ramsey had that look in his eyes like he was coming to kill something, and Charlie didn’t. “I thought I was in a bad dream between the first and second round,” Brock says. “Here’s a guy that’s beating himself.” Brock angrily tosses the stool into the cage. “I don’t even care,” he says. “These guys don’t even want to be here.”

Dana White also noticed that Charlie didn’t defend the choke at all, and basically gave up. Dana explains that Brock doesn’t need to be here for the money or the fame. He took time away from his family to invest himself in this thing, and DW doesn’t blame Brock for being frustrated.

It’s a rough atmosphere in the Team Lesnar stew-room. Rader’s arm might be dislocated, but that’s the least of their problems. ”I haven’t seen jack shit, and that’s what I meant, you all look like chicken shit,” Brock says, filling his quota for the episode. “Choke, choke, choke…You guys walk around here badass this, badass that…Boston this, Lousiana that, Michigan that, Seattle this.”

Len Bentley cuts him off: “I fought my heart out, so…I’m going to step out from the ass-chewing because I worked my ass off and I fought hard.”

“Good for you, Len,” says Brock as Len leaves the room. “Good for you.”