"This is where that white rose comes into play," Chris notes, desperately trying to wrestle me back onto the linear recapping thread. A cut over to Rick sitting on the couch, and...um, you guys? Is Rick wearing a bowler hat? And is he wearing that bowler hat on television? And, if so -- if he is, in fact wearing a bowler hat, and he is in fact wearing said bowler hat on television -- well, then, why is the Gus Van Sant shot-by-shot remake of The Gold Rush taking place in Southern California? There isn't even any snow there! But no matter...that little tramp has got some tricks up his sleeve yet: "By giving you that white rose, Meredith decided you're the man she wanted to spend intimate one-on-one time with first," Chris explains, which we knew last time when he explained it to Meredith. And which we'll hear again when Meredith explains it again to the guys. I'm glad the white rose is a fun new experiment that the producers clearly seem to think is working, but we could use a couple fewer moments of dawning about the nature of the white rose. Meanwhile, over the din of the guys applauding Rick's efforts, Chris unsheathes his cell phone and runs over to the craft-service table, and if you turn your TVs up reeeeally loud, you can just barely make him out saying, "Hi, is Aaron Abramson there? I've called him to explain the nature of the white rose." Because he's calling everyone in the phone book is why.
"I think I got the white rose because Meredith and I had a connection," Rick autopilots, too busy wondering if Meredith is going to enjoy his menu selection of "Vaudevillian Mime Shoe" to actually hazard saying anything meaningful. "When we looked into each other's eyes, I think that we could see each others' souls." Wow. He must feel pretty passionate about whatever he's on this show to sell, because he's got those broad-based talking points for extra screen time down pat, he does. "See each other's souls"? Shut up, Chaplin. Shut up, the great dick...tator.
The rest of the suckers will find out where they're going and who is invited...well, right now. Chris removes a VHS tape from the top of a mantel behind him and tosses it off to, um...oh, let's just call the thirteen guys whose names I don't know yet "Harold." The tape goes sailing through the air and into...er, "Harold's" hands, and it lands with a big, plastic crack right on "Harold's" lap. Whoa, Chris. Watch out with that tape. That shit is analog, and it's got a ton of moving parts. Why are you still using VHS tapes, anyway? Trying to avoid piracy with screeners during awards season for group-date video messages? I can't believe they haven't been banned altogether.