Previously: Roger returned. So did Sammi. JWOWW was happy. Ronnie, less so. At least until Sammi decided that he was somehow "different," a.k.a. exactly the damn same. How long can we endure this cycle of abuse?! I'm not talking about SamRo 2.0. I'm talking about that which the producers inflict upon us...
We open this week with a road trip as Vinny and Pauly accompany each other to Staten Island -- "an actual island," Vinny reminds Pauly, Rhode "Island" native. As they make the Iliad-esque hour-long journey, SamRo 2.0 go for manis and pedis (seriously, it happened), and The Situation shares some shenanigans with Lean Cuisine (apparently this is the name of one of JWOWW's foofy dogs) and "the big one" (JWOWW's other, likely chubbier and more bitter, dog). There is pizza from the trash. There is peanut butter and fluff slathered on the floor of the shore house. All in all, a good weekday afternoon if you ask me.
Staten Island. The "Guido circus" (Pauly's description of Vinny's family) warmly greet our two journeymen. One of Vinny's uncles asks Pauly what's up with his hair, declaring, "Bride of Frankenstein ain't got nothing on you." That's right, Bride of Frankenstein. You're not motorcycle-proof, bitch. Next time, come correct with that hair, hooker.
As the Staten Island contingent (name your band that... NOW!) sits down for a bountiful Sunday dinner, we flash back to the shore house, where Sitch encourages the fluffernutter engorged Lean Cuisine to piss and shit all over the house. Wow, they're really stretching for content, hey?
Wow, and then literally nothing happens in Staten Island. Honestly. They had dinner and left. Refer to last paragraph.
The girls return home and JWOWW immediately pronounces, "Something smells like poop." Sammi says it's disgusting. And she knows from disgusting. She has slapped uglies with Ronnie. Hundreds of times. The girls clean up, and JWOWW immediately fingers The Situation in the misspent afternoon. Deena and Sammi smell the dogs and confirm that they smell like knock-off Axe body spray, a.k.a. Sitch. And then that vignette is over. Okay, it's officially been seven minutes. Way to pack 10% of the hour with momentum, editors!