It’s My Bachelor Party And I’ll Cry Because I’m Crazy And/Or Sad About The Sudden Death Of My Grandmother

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Skinny Amy

The Vaguely Misleading Promo Department poses the question of "Who will be sent home broken-hearted?" in this week's oft-unrecapped intro spiel. However, when we first check in with our Bachelor, we find him in the middle of an extraneous swimming montage that lasts most of the hour, precluding us from any Rose Ceremony or broken-heartedness of any kind, thus forcing us to reconceptualize the aforementioned question as "How many gallons of Dippity-Do does it take to pollute a well-chlorinated Malibu swimming pool?" Let's go see!

"Sponge" Bob "Nair Pants" Guiney kicks it poolside at Chez Shame, moving with mysteriously waxed agility through the perfect blue water. His bathing trunks -- and I don't mean to be so Jazz Age in my descriptions of this show, as I realize that Bob is not trying to choose between ten "dames" and I realize that the Pig 'n' Whistle is not a "speakeasy," but look at 'em, they're trunks, I'm just saying -- are aqua-themed in a way that blend in with the water and briefly lead me to believe he is naked, which makes me sad and all the kiddies scream. They look vaguely Hypercolor, that changes-shades- when-you- touch-it fabric that was America's main export during the heady mid-'80s, but I realize quickly that it couldn't be, because the trunks lack a distinctively Lee-Ann-sized hand across the ass. As he prepares to capture the gold in this "Swimming For B-Roll" tournament in which we've found him so gamely participating, a far more suitably dressed (that is to say, "dressed at all") Bob confessionalizes from dry land, "I have to say that I did feel really bad at the last Rose Ceremony, just having to let people go...But...." But? "But I did wake up this morning with a renewed excitement." Yup. Nothing like the fearsome second-guessing of one's entire love life to leave one feeling rested and happy. And to what do we owe this giddy mood, anyway? "I'm left with ten women who would make an amazing wife for anyone." Ten parts of one whole. I'm sure that's exactly how they see themselves also, Bob. "Now I go into the rest of this time with them, figuring out if one of them could be an amazing wife for me." He climbs his buff bod (becauseheusedtobefatbutnowheisnotfat!) out of the swimming pool, pulls a yellow towel around his O.P. jams, and thinks, "I am no longer skeptical of the process, I'm still very close with my ex-wife, and I used to be fat but now I am not fat." Because anyway, that's what he'll tell us later he was thinking.

Meanwhile, downstairs at Bob Guiney Fan Club HQ, Chris "Chris Harrison" Harrison ponders the cost of an extra phone jack and a satellite linkup from his own bedroom so he can complete the literalization of the phrase "phoning it in." He calls the ten remaining women -- Lee-Ann, Krazy-Eyes, Kidneys a Go-Go, Girl People on the Forums Like, and six extraneous others -- to worship at the altar of his prepared introductory material. But upon their arrival in the living room, the girls find that The White Ottoman That Ate Cleveland seems to have grown even larger in size, a full third of the room now taken up with its put-your-feet- on-THIS-muthafuckah swagger. It's also noshed off a chunk of the rug in the room, badly injured the camera crew's A.D., and made no secret of its plans for the town's corrupt dentist, the other plants in the store, or Rick Moranis. Seriously, that thing is sarcastically big.

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