It's reunion time, Bitchuations, and Amy Paffrath is back and looking like what would happen if a disco ball banged a glitter factory then crapped out something. She introduces the gang, then asks, "Was your summer at Seaside everything you wished for and more?" Well, Paffrath, if what we wished for was dullsville diffracted by two imploding spin-offs, plus news of an 11th-hour pregnancy and a prescription pill addiction, YES! Snooki gives some sort of answer, but I'm too distracted by a hideous upper arm tattoo (please be fake!) and her mesh-encased boobs to hear any of it. Which is a real shame because Snooki's words are usually an elegant hybrid of poetry, philosophy, and Franklin-esque aphorism.
First package: The kids return from Italy, at which point Deena declared herself, "like a hamster in heat," and Pauly burnt off at least three layers of his epidermis in the tanning bed. A fall-down-drunk return to Karma acts as the editor's equivalent of a Snooki blackout and suddenly we've cut to the last episode, when thunder and lightning began to roll in. I'm sure this could be interpreted as some sort of symbolism for the tragedies about to befall the Shore kids in real life. Yes, I'm counting an unexpected pregnancy as a tragedy. A baby will really fuck up your buzz!
After the package, Paffrath asks Deena, "How excited is a hamster in heat?" Oh dear sweet god, if this is the level of questioning we're going to encounter all night... ugh. Deena admits she was horny because she came back from Italy, where there no guys she liked -- at least none that weren't engaged in some weird biting fetish with their sisters. Ronnie snarks, "You had girls." Meatball mash-up! She grabs Snooki for a hug, and you can already tell Snooki has moved on. The face she's making screams, "Awkward!" If not, her smush-tits do. While Deena was excited to return to "normal-sized American guys" (and penises, as The Situation infers), Snooki was excited to return to her brethren nut jobs at Karma, not to mention peeing in bushes.
Okay, you guys, the conversation literally turns to the weather. The weather.That's, like, the universal sign that you have nothing else to talk about. And we're only six minutes in! Save us all.