While waiting for the hole in the ozone layer to one day thaw stranded cats off high tree branches so that the VFD can all go back to work getting them down, Rhymin' and the guys set about making dinner at the fire station. One of the guys asks Trista what attracted her to Rhymin', and she grates cheese and nerves simultaneously, explaining that it's because he "wasn't too pushy." Dude, Russ can't hear you from there. Now that is passive-aggressive. A kindly old Wilford Brimley-esque fireman steps forward to speak for them all, noting, "I'm not so sure I like this. There's a part of me that's really excited for him and I really enjoy this, but there's a part of me that hopes things get back to normal for him, or that we can bring you here to enjoy Vail a little more." Trista laughs nervously and puts her hand on Rymin's without looking at him, communicating through a complex series of hand gestures and other body language cues, "Dear, I'd sooner set myself on fire."
Yelling over an idling fire truck while Trista stands just off-camera trying to jimmy a fork into a space heater, Captain Brimley takes it down a notch with the serious question, "What do you think she wants, Ryan?" And then, with I'm-kind-of- auditioning-for-my- own-reality-show- because-firemen-are- very-um- hot-these-days gravitas, he repeats verbatim, "What do you think she wants?" Rhymin's got the answer at the ready: "I think she truly wants to fall in love." Captain Brimley nods gravely, his slightly sardonically cocked eyebrow obscured behind those sunglasses that get darker when you're in a bright place (though to see their true power in action, Captain Brimley would have to travel several thousand miles to that one really sunny place called "Summer"), as Jake or Mike promises, "Whatever happens, you've still got us." Awwww! Just then, Trista returns and steals Rhymin' away. Secretly, they kind of hate her.
Man, I hope those production vans have four-wheel drive. We're following Rhymin's SUV up a forty-five-degree angle to a place he tells us is called "the wedding deck." Cut to them sitting on a blanket and sipping champagne, Trista cranking her vocal speed to 78 RPM and baby-talking, "To a beautiful sunset with a beautiful man." Okay, by the way? If you're talking in that voice and you're not any of the following: (1) asking Santa Baby to hurry down the chimney tonight; (2) telling Simon and Theodore you just want a hula hoop; or (3) actually between two and four years old -- then stop doing it. You have the power. Rhymin' volleys back in a closed-captioning-come-quickly whisper: "To only living once and taking chances." He then tells her that he made his toast because he wants to kiss her, and that if he doesn't, "Not only is everyone going to shoot me, but I might shoot myself." Good god. What a frontiers-like sentiment, this Love in the Time of the Second Amendment proclamation of your deranged passion. And so he does (kiss, that is. Not shoot), and Trista chimes in, "Being on that mountain. And sharing our first passionate kiss. Was perfect." The sun sets and the lovers will never be blue, except in their lips and lower extremities. Go inside! I'm cold just looking at you!