By the time Marco's boots are on, Eva's already ankle-deep in mud and gathering puppets in her arms. The mud seems more like glue than legitimate mud, and pulling the puppets out isn't easy. She thinks they're only supposed to get the happy red ones, but the yellow ones keep trying to force themselves into her hands.

"Hey, hey, I raised your better than to have that mouth," Eva says hypocritically, between swearing at GLaDOS in Spanish and Gallard. The timer is giving them five minutes, but there's no indication how many red puppets they're supposed to collect.