Anita! We're back at Harry Winston, Bob telling Anita he has no idea what the hell he's looking at. She shows him a ring that reminds Anita of a "throne."
Montage-ing back to the house, Estella pulls out a box of shit she's stolen from the show since she's been there and put in a box. It looks like a bit like a memory glass, but without all that pesky melted wax or suburban Jewish kids.
Kelly Jo is nervous because this is a "huge step" in her life. She's nervous, but not because she's not going to be the one. She's nervous "to hear [Bob] say" that he loves her. Yeah. Scaaaaaaaaaaary.
Bob picks the ring that Anita told him was the good one to pick. He slaps it down on the counter like he's choosing the weapon an Ol' West foe is planning to use for his execution. Jokingly, Bob asks for two of them, "just in case." Anita doesn't get it. I adore Anita.
In the limo, Bob reasserts his sense of "clarity," saying that he's getting really excited about what it's coming down to. He's about to lose control. And he thinks he likes it.
Estella primps in her simple black cocktail dress, chilling in front of a hotel mirror and telling us that there are "three things that could happen today." Do any of them include space monkeys? Because, if not, we're pretty much certain of how this thing is going to come down.
Split screen! In what I think is real time! This is at the point at which I'm sure I would have made a Time Code joke, had I not double-checked my recap of the final episode of last season and discovered the sentence, "They get in their respective limos, as the split-screen continues. Gotta love The Bachelor: A Very Time Code Special here in the final moments. Figgis. Fleiss. What the hell's the difference anymore?" Whatever. Figgis should thank me for being the only one who remembers. Even Jeanne Tripplehorn is like, "What the hell is that dude talking about?"
Room of Reckoning. Chris "He Is The Parasite, And I Am The Host" Harrison leads Bob in. Chris congratulates Bob half-heartedly, throwing one leg over another and assuming a posture like he's a fifteen-year-old who just got detention. He just doesn't care at all. All slouchy and mad. He congratulates Bob on making it though, asking, "You ready for this?" Bob is. It seems that at some point in the last, say, one day, he's totally made up his mind and he knows exactly what he's going to do. The music they play at this point every week is literally seared into my brain. But it's not really music, so it's not like I can hum it. It's ambient drama noise, and, not coincidentally, exactly the same sound as one completely losing his ever-loving mind from hearing it over and over and over again. Chris asks Bob how he came to this decision, and Bob responds that he took a lot of time "last night" to decide. After the failure of his marriage, Bob wah-wahs, "I just focused on career and fun. And I've definitely excelled in both arenas." And I've got the "Fat Amy, Live at the Meadowlands, with special opening act, The Rolling Stones" concert t-shirt to prove it. It doesn't have any arms. It also doesn't exist. And how has he "excelled" at fun? Chow fun? He was a depressed, miserable, divorced loser with a dead sports career and no record contract. Anyway, that's been Bob's story until now. We keep hearing that his wife all up and left a note in the meatloaf saying "I can do better" or some such ludicrous opening scene of a film where the guy then moves into an apartment and befriends a large, lovable, talking dog or some such thing, and I was under the impression that, by the time he ended up on The Bachelorette, Bob wasn't really better. So, revisiting the "fun" part? Where was that? So it was chow fun, then? Just checking.