Amanda's chronic hiccups are back. She calls them the "meeps." Erin the hotdog vendor and some other women I'm not even sure I've even seen before are commiserating about wanting to get a rose.
Oh God, Shayne's talking again, this time one on one with Matt, regretting how she behaved last night. At least, that's what I think she's doing, but she talks solely in meaningless clichés. Matt says he might have been hard on her, because she's an actor and so therefore he questioned her intentions. She blathers about how she's so over the acting thing, whatever that means, and she's here to stay for him and I'm not sure she's capable of having a coherent conversation without melodrama.
Now the women start taking turns showing off some dance moves, with Marshana bumping and grinding all over Matt's junk. Chris comes in to dork up the party and explain that Matt has a decision to make: Fifteen women, only twelve roses.
Who gets 'em? Chelsea and Ashlee already have theirs, so there are just ten left. Amanda hiccups. Matt strolls out for the moment he's been "dreading." He can't believe that they put up with him, speaking a "different language."
Time to winnow the herd!
Robin's picked first, which is great, so we don't get a million shots of her despondent Eeyore face. Holly, who I couldn't pick out of a police lineup, is also selected. Erin S. Amanda (she hiccups). He thanks her for "embarrassing" him on the dance floor. Kelly. Amy. Kristine. I'm not sure I know who these people are. Have they added women? They need to cut down to three or four already so I can remember everyone. Marshana. Noelle, who I don't think we heard from tonight, which means she didn't make an ass of herself. Out comes Chris again to helpfully point out there's one rose left, just in case the women don't think that maybe one rose is equal to three or four roses in the metric system. And it goes to...Shayne, because hotness trumps melodrama every time. So: going home: Erin H, who says she's going home because she wasn't willing to chase after Matt in the way the other girls were. Translation: "Anyone who goes farther than I am is a slut." Sorry stripping down to your bra didn't work out for you, Erin. Carri, the "church marketer," is also going home. "I guess I am just not what he's looking for," she says, and how nice it is to have someone figure that out and hopefully take it further to realize that there really isn't any shame in not being picked by some reality show man-whore. Michelle P., the clarinetist, who gets all teary-eyed, also was not picked. "Seek out the good," she tells Matt, and then tearfully explains in a talking-head that she's going home to her cat: "She's the love of my life at the moment." Look, I'm not that big an asshole. I can't make fun of that.