The kids head to Aztec, for which Vinny will not be serving as spokesman any time soon. He calls it a "sweat box" because "there's sweat and B.O. everywhere. I kind of feel like I'm back in Italy -- minus the arm pit hair." Add the Italian Tourism Board to organizations he'll never represent publicly. Regardless, the kids are having a good time. Snooki in particular (wearing a leopard print trucker hat and Yeti boots, it's worth noting... just because) demonstrates a fierce robot dance. JWOWW, however, is clearly not into it as she sways half-heartedly. She becomes the third roommate of the season (after Vinny and Sitchy) who is described as "in a funk" and, with that, the tri-funk-ta is complete! Snooki is annoyed that JWOWW is such a downer, but JWOWW soon rids her of this inconvenience by making an excuse about having work the next morning (like that would ever stop a guido from beating up the beat!) and leaves early.
Vinny is in the midst of prowling for chicks. He lands on a DTF girl named Deanna that he admits isn't really up to standards. She's only a 5-6 looks-wise when he's looking for a 7-8. I utterly disagree and think she's super-cute, but it's no matter because he sends Deanna to marinate with Deena while he looks for better options. He quickly lands eyes on an Eve Mendes lookalike named Nikki and starts chatting her up. There's a brief moment when Deanna returns. It looks like Vinny is busted, but he pulls a one-two punch, innocently introducing her to Nikki (and bless her, she smiles and says hi like she on The Bachelor where this kind of bunk is acceptable) before Deena swoops in to take Deanna back to the dance floor. Of course Deena is actually proud of herself for this bullshit that only entitles these jackholes to continue to brutally objectify women and bolster their own inflated egos. Hrmph.
Across the club, Snooki is still sad that JWOWW flaked and decides she's drunk enough to stumble home alone. She initially tries to walk through a glass door, which works... not so well. Eventually she finds her way out onto the Boardwalk, where she sways and staggers and generally walks like a fresh-legged toddler. She does acknowledge that the Boardwalk is at least easier to walk on drunk than the Florentine cobblestones. Luckily, this lonely little adventure does not turn into a Lifetime abduction movie, and Snooki safely arrives home and passes out in all her clothes and shoes. Again. Fingers crossed the antibiotics have kicked in and she doesn't wet the bed tonight.