Oblig candlelight dinner. D is "overcome with emotion" and drags her and the camera crew away from dinner into an adjacent alley to do what he imagines is passionate kissing, I think. It's tough to tell because he seems about as sexual as a ficus. Giving up on this attempt at passion, he then moves on to the next topic, BLOWING JAMES UP for not being here for the right reasons. Remember that whole thing about James saying if he could just get into the top 4 then he'd have a shot at being the Bachelor? Well, first, GET FUCKING REAL, there is NO FUCKING CHANCE that meathead would ever have a shot but also, WHO GIVES A FUCK. Everybody, apparently. Anyway, Dez is deeply troubled and oh fucking give me a break.
El Date del Groupo! Something soccer related. Juan Pablo will dominate at this, I guess. They all trundle off to the Barcelona soccer stadium and Juan Pablo immediately starts showing off his mad soccer skills and also high-fiving Des a lot like she's a bro. Then Los Doucheros play a faux soccer match against a bunch of girls and get smoked mostly because James is the goalie and, as Juan Pablo correctly analyzes, "I guess he scared of getting hit with ball."
Let's move onto the Night Portion and the Brofontation with James and we'll skip over the terrible, terrible "poem" that Dez has written for fellow Awful Poet Chris and my one wish for this season is that everybody stop writing fucking poetry, it's really the worst. Anyway, 2 douches confront James with his "shocking" statements about being the next Bachelor and James quickly moves through the Stages of Brofontation, namely: (1) I was kidding, (2) I said it privately, (3) Mikey brought it up and I just agreed with him. There's a lot of bleeping and then Kasey with a K says he will "counter-accusate," whatever the fuck that means and then spills the whole thing to Des AGAIN.
|The Brofrontation: Artist's depiction. I forgot to get screengrabs.|
OK so then Des talks to James and he's like, Mikey brought the whole thing up. He didn't have a connection with Des and he was "self-medicating himself." That's it, James! It's working! Your fake crying and everything is working!
Back at the hotel, all the hens are clucking. Are "you thinking he might turn violent?" SHOW ME ON THE DOLL WHERE JAMES MIGHT TOUCH YOU. That "federal prosecutor" Michael is just a big 12-year-old snitch with a lot of mousse. Oh here comes James. "Goodnight!" HRMPH! HE DIDN'T GET VIOLENT AT ALL.
Next day, solo date with Human Skull, who is now a color not found in nature and apparently is dying his skin to match his outfit for the day. They're off to art class where they will sketch each other and Des is understandably concerned about using color because "Worst Celebrity Spray Tan Disasters" isn't on the color wheel. Neither one of them can art very well.
Dinner that night is at Freixenet! Hopefully some budget-priced sparkling wine will lead to romance. They descend into the caves to have a candlelit dinner surrounded by thousands of bottles of $5.99 cava. She wants to know all about Human Skull! He has a "spirit that wants to continue to venture!" RIGHT INTO AN EPISODE OF THE HAUNTING I BET. He gets the Cheap Champagne Rose.
Meanwhile, the housewives are getting themselves all worked up about the James thing again! Michael is the Captain of Hating James' Guts. Drew is physically sickened by the thought that James isn't as invested in a fake TV relationship as he is. Des interrupts their little bitchfest and takes James out to ask "What is your intentions, like, now?" and "Is you willing to discard subject-verb agreement for me?" She doesn't kick him out yet. OOOOOOOOO THE LADIES ARE SO MAD WHEN JAMES COMES BACK TO THE HOTEL. Michael is all here, hold my pearls but then James says his basic point is that he won't kill himself if he gets kicked off and that is the most normal thing that's happened so far and then he leaves and all the girls burst into tears like they dropped a Barbie and an ice cream cone at the same time.
Rose Ceremony. We're kicking 3 off! Sweet, shit is moving faster now. IN: Chris, Brooks, and Cindy. I mean Michael. OUT: Juan Pablo, James, and Kasey, thank fucking God. Juan Pablo tries to summon up some tears but it's hard when the awful fate that awaits you is getting more tail than a salmon trawler wait that simile didn't work at all. James says "Nobody will ever know the exact truth" like this is the Kennedy assassination or something. Fuck's sake.