We cut to a view of everybody cruising on the boat, while Helene tells us that everyfuckingbody went cruising on the fucking boat. Sorry, profanity is the only way I can deal with it anymore. She goes on to describe exactly what we see: Aaron's parents sitting in the back with their arms around each other, while Aaron and Helene pilot the ship with their arms around each other. They let Helene drive the boat. She makes a big deal about it. She tells us that she hopes to "communicate" to Aaron that she has really fallen for him, and she hopes he feels the same. But she's also thinking about her competition, Brooke.

This serves as a segue back to Brooke in Los Angeles. That was soooo fake. They totally made Helene say that so they could use it for the transition. Brooke heads into Harry Winston alone to try on engagement rings. She's getting sized in advance, so just in case Aaron decides to ask her to marry him instead of Helene, she'll be ready. It's all so romantic. A clerk helps her try on four different cuts. They're all very fancy, and I couldn't possibly care less. Jewelry doesn't even show up on my list of "Top Ten Thousand Things I Remotely Give a Shit About." I wore a gold chain for about three months in high school, until I realized that it didn't make me look any cooler. And an ex gave me a silver ring, which I wore for about six months. I haven't worn any jewelry since. ["I'm over here, married, with no engagement ring and a ten-dollar silver 'wedding band' from a Santa Monica head shop, so I feel you. I'm not responsible enough for fancy jewellery. Oh, and I'm also cheap." -- Wing Chun] Brooke and the clerk blather on about the color and the shapes and how the bigger ones mean he loves you more and blah blah blah. Brooke tells us that when she slipped on the first ring, it really hit her that Aaron might actually ask her to marry him. She points out that her hands are shaking. She says that all that she could think about was what it would mean if Aaron were to actually slide that ring on her finger. It would mean that you've all bought into a concept that a chunk of pressurized carbon worn on your hand is proof of emotional attachment. The guy who wants to marry me had better buy me something I can actually use.