Luke talks to a knave named Henry, who inexplicably laughs whenever people ask him about his beard. He tells Luke the latest gossip o' the land. It seems Haybale Bill got caught in a tent with Annie, the grog girl, who is engaged to the fruit ice guy. This would seemingly mean absolutely nothing to anybody, but they're going to keep this tertiary storyline going through the episode, so I had to write it out. Due to the belligerence of Annie's bethrothed, the grog people are currently enslaving the poor girl in a fort made of kegs. Let's Godspeed to the scene, shall we?
What ho! The camera just swiveled on its base, keeping us in the land of yore, as Luke applies trinkets of pewter and fairywinkles upon a tree of dreams. Nearby, not-too-young T.J, afflicted with the plague of shattered limbs, calls out to fair Luke, thrashing his jewelry-laying skills left and right. Oh, 'tis a pity, how Luke's new brother-in-law does bandy about instruction, without showing any signs of wanting to improve in his own condition. 'Tis true, what they say, that this husband of Amy does like much discussion around the issue, and not much of the issue. We spend three hourglasses' worth of sand watching Lord Danes offer navigation to a lost, fair maiden, prompting the failed jester T.J. once again to knock our beloved diner proprietor for his lack of Ren-Fairian dialogue, such as which I am thusly demonstrating. Thusly. By the by, I am annoying myself most horribly at this moment, and am wishing the speedy conclusion of this humble play. Zounds! It appears the afflicted has come down with a case of heavy-television, which has sprouted from his groin as he rests in his anachronistic lawn chair. Comedy, dear friends and wenches of the land, ensues. Someone says "Deepak Chopra." Prithee Luke soon leaves this prairie of the loon. Sister Elizabeth unleashes her brother's collar, much to the chagrin of Duke Gimpy. The man of much flannel stomps away to find mead, first absconding the electronic storybook. Exeunt.
"Rome." Emily and Rory are led by a concierge who knows Emily by name. Rory thinks their hotel room is nice, but Emily finds it to be hot. Emily inspects the view and complains that it is different. She thinks something has moved -- either the buildings or the ruins. Rory and the concierge assure Emily that nothing has moved in Rome for two thousand years, and that this is the same room Emily has stayed in before. The concierge offers to switch Emily's room, but she decides to settle with this weird, hot, view-obstructed, cigarette-laden monstrosity because Rome likes a martyr. Emily barks at her granddaughter for daring to pull her own bag off the luggage cart. Emily makes plans for high tea and private tours of places like The Vatican. She stresses that the tours should be for only Rory and herself, since earlier they were forced to tour with [shudder] tourists. Emily runs off to tell the bellman how exactly to hang the hanging bags. Rory asks the concierge for directions to the catacombs. The concierge warns her that Emily would not like them: "Bones disturb her." Rory says she goes exploring on her own every day when Emily is down for her nap. The concierge flirts, "Ah, yes. A nap." Emily asks for two more pillows. Emily and Rory dismiss the concierge and then sit to pick their restaurants. Rory is disappointed to find that Emily isn't going to take her nap today. Emily picks up at this, and then decides to stay in the room for a while, pretending she was always going to take her nap, so that she can let Rory explore on her own. Oh, do I love Rory's outfit in this scene. Why can't Marc Jacobs do a line at Target like everybody else? Emily asks Rory when they last called Lorelai. Rory does that bad fake lying she does and stammers that she doesn't know before running out of there as quickly as she can.
Luke has called Lorelai, who is always walking into her house when the phone rings, even though she has a cell phone that he probably should have called instead. Lorelai: "Well! Huzzah, and prithee, aren't thou--" Luke: "Stop." Heh. Lorelai whines that Luke wasn't home yesterday like he said he'd be. Luke says he's coming home today. Lorelai: "Oh, what's that, Lucy? A football for me to kick?" Luke says he means it this time. In the background, T.J. complains about the screwdriver. Luike promises he's leaving right away, but needed to call Lorelai right now to tell her the scuttlebutt about Haybale Bill and Annie the grog girl. No new news, just letting us know that Lorelai's been keeping up the gossip over the weeks. Rory's letter has arrived, so who knows what day it is supposed to be. Lorelai moans that she's got a little assignment she has to do. Lorelai asks Luke what lie he's going to tell her now about coming home. Luke says he's coming home today. Lorelai wonders if that means this week, this month, or this year. Luke: "Today." Lorelai: "See you when Hillary's president."
Luke hangs up and looks for a piece of jewelry to bring Lorelai. Liz asks if he needs help. Luke asks for something to match the earrings he already gave her. When Liz finds out that it's Lorelai who's getting the jewelry, she's ecstatic for her brother. "Huzzah!" she shouts. "Huzzah!" shouts T.J.. "Huzzah!" shouts the rest of the Renaissance Faire. It's the funniest moment of the episode, even though it's a totally cheap Monty Python joke. It works. Luke admits he never got the whole "Huzzah" thing. Liz says she's so happy for her brother: "You found your T.J.!" "Please don't put it like that," Luke requests. "You're not going to be alone," Liz says to Luke. What's with everyone happy for these two not because they like each other, but because it means they won't die alone? Is that what happens when people fall in love later in life? Because that's depressing. Liz and Luke hug goodbye. T.J. says that his spine could snap if he hugs anyone. Luke settles for a handshake and a "Good morrow, buddy."
Doose's Market. Lorelai finds CuteDean at one of his jobs, and he's...hot! Thank you for cleaning up the CuteDean. Oh, man. Yay! Hot. Awesome. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I could go on. I won't, because I'm getting married and we all know how CuteDean feels about marriage. I don't want to appear even more attractive to him. CuteDean's babbling on about nothing to some girl, and I think this entire moment is filler because the rest of us are shouting at our television screens "Thank you!" and aren't listening to a word the boy says. CuteDean sees Lorelai and excuses himself from the nameless, lineless extra. Lorelai hands CuteDean the letter from Rory. "What happened?" CuteDean asks, full of anxiety. "Where is she?" Lorelai tells him to take the letter. You got served, CuteDean. He knows Rory went to Europe because Miss Patty told him: "What happened? What's she doing there? Who's she with? When's she coming back?" Poor CuteDean. He's so worried about Rory. Lorelai tells him Rory's coming back soon, and that he should take the letter. CuteDean: "Where is she?" Lorelai says she's in Europe. "With who [sic]?" Lorelai: "Her grandmother." CuteDean wants to know why she went. Rory. There is such a thing as EMAIL. You could TEXT MESSAGE CuteDean on his CELL PHONE or EMAIL him before you run away for six weeks. Rory always runs away, and I hate that about her. She's such a coward. CuteDean asks whose idea it was for Rory to head to Europe. Lorelai says it doesn't matter, but CuteDean argues that it does. Lorelai says that she's a messenger, nothing more. CuteDean takes the letter as the strummy-strummy-la-la takes over.