Previously: Angelina's a bitch. From Staten Island. And everyone hates her. Sammi and Ronnie continue to strive for B-plot relevance.
We pick back up in the middle of last week's post-club fracas between Angelina, Pauly D and The Situation. Angelina drunkenly smacks Pauly not once, not twice, but thrice -- though, to be fair it looks more like a missed smack followed by two uncoordinated nudges. Nonetheless, Pauly is mad as Hell and he's not gonna take it any longer! So, like a Jet Blue flight attendant, he screams a few angry words and quits that bitch. Except Angelina won't let it lie. She follows Pauly and Sitch out to the blue-Astroturfed patio to keep on stirring the pot. Enough to wake up JWoww, in fact, who concludes that it takes a serious wench to anger Pauly, the nicest guy in the house.
The guys update JWoww that Angelina Schmolie puts the "smack" in smack-talking. Ms. Angelina takes it to the level when she insists numerous times that she didn't actually smack Pauly. They start to question whether she exists in reality. And when a guy who names himself after his abs, one who has "CADILLAC" tattooed on his torso, and a girl who christens her fashion line "Filthy Couture" question your grip on reality... well then I must say, Angelina, you in danger, girl. At any rate, it all comes down to jealousy, because Angelina doesn't like Pauly hooking up with some random girl at da club that she considers her best friend because they met, like, five minutes before. Pauly says it's none of her business, and Sitch chimes in on an interview that she's a crazypants ingrate who didn't even chip in on the night's bill. Oooooh, burn! What's really rich, though, is that she tries to re-appropriate the power in the argument by calling them instigators. Now that's some Danielle Staub shit up in there. Pure brass. The guys dismiss Angelina and her blackout-induced antics. As they walk inside, Angelina tries to curry favor with JWoww, who quickly reminds her that she actually likes Pauly and Sitch and is happy to do the bitch-punching for them.
The morning, Vinny, Ronnie and JWoww report to their first day at the gelato shop, run by Enzo, the most Italian man ever. Seriously, all I heard was, "Calamari! Fagiol'! Oregano! Straciatella! Basta così!" And JWoww hears nothing at all, because she's too concerned about the too-tight T-shirt suffocating her overinflated knockers. The nonsense continues on for a while, yadda, yadda, yadda... I will probably miss Enzo and his funny Old World ways, but I really hope that this is the last we see of the gelato shop. And for the same reason we didn't see much of the T-shirt shop last year: These people are not meant to work. It betrays their very essence.
Back at the house, Angelina wonders why Pauly and Sitch are ignoring her. He fills her in on what a hagbag she was in her drunken stupor, so she quickly (and tearfully, which is total bullshit) issues an apology to Pauly. He accepts her apology but says that she's lost her remaining two friends in the house. In short, buzz off. She gets irritated that he isn't willing to be BFF again (as if he ever was) and insists that he should forget everything because she was drunk and made a mistake. Pauly proves himself to be a wise man -- or at least wiser than 98% of college freshman -- by realizing that he is within his rights to choose his own friends. Angelina will not be one of the lucky few. Ever. He leaves Angelina to stew in her own rancid juices.
Later that day, Vinny and Ronnie get hair cuts in the 'hood. Yep. That's an actual plot point in Week 3. Maybe I wished the gelato shop away too soon?
That night, Sammi and Ronnie bond in their bed of lies. Meanwhile, Angelina lies in the bed she made for herself. Sitch takes pity and decides to call a house meeting with the other roommates to strategize how to best deal with Angelina. His suggestion? Pawn her off on the girls. Ha! JWoww takes immediate exception to this idea, but The Situation doesn't think Angelina is cut out for a life of GTL. They eventually all agree, reluctantly, to wipe the slate clean with the Schmolie and judge her by her actions moving forward. So Sitch unlocks the room under the stairs where they've been keeping her by inviting her to come out to da club with them that night. Of course, he's repaid with a defensive, snotty response and a wan "Thank you." Baby steps?
Everyone gets ready to go out. Snooki hairsprays her pouf extra-close to heaven this particular evening, which doesn't escape Vinny's notice. Pauly watches as he tells her she took his breath away (actual words). She skeptically wonders if he's trying to smush. He denies it, so she admits he looks hot, too. Pauly stands by, agog at this interaction. Then sums it up with succinct perfection in an interview: "Who knows?" Oh, Pauly... You are not a man of many words, but they are all the right ones. Motorcycle-proof!
They get to da club, where JWoww gyrates around in one of her signature titty-flashin' shirts. It inspires a particularly on-point treatise on gravity and its irrelevance to the Woww twins.
Meanwhile, Snooki notices Angelina's awkwardness and starts to feel sympathy for her. She harkens back to last summer when she got balls-out wasted and alienated everyone within the first 24 hours. She deigns to give Ange a pep talk, advising her to fess up to her shit-talking ways so that she can be accepted into the family. Angelina obliges and moves through da club making amends. Things seem to be moving onward and upward... for now.
Once the night picks up, Sammi notices that Ronnie has been sipping too much Ron Ron Juice. For some reason, she doesn't appreciate his lap-dancing and good time-having. Not content to be miserable on her own (too bad Angelina just got a "Get Out of Jail Free" card!), she totally harshes Ronnie's buzz. They squabble and bicker until he chews her out like the rager he is. He goes back to his weird brand of dancing. She leaves in a huff, convinced for the millionth time that they're over.
It's no skin off Ronnie's teeth as he keeps creeping with his boys. Eventually Snooki spies Ronnie macking on some other hooch. She confronts him, wherein he inarticulately explains how Sammi was all up in his grill (still not sure what about, because these people are such numbskulls) and that he just wants to have fun with his fellas. Snooki thinks he should draw a line between "having fun" and cheating. He thinks he has, and that making out is well within that line. And yet, five seconds later, he asks the other guys not to snitch, essentially acknowledging his own guilt. Snooki asks Pauly what she should do. He avoids answering her by pointing out how Sammi and Ronnie have a roller-coaster relationship, then interviews that he knows that any one girl knowing what Ronnie is up to will blow up in his face eventually. Ronnie tries to butter up Snooki, but she holds her ground and urges him to come clean to Sammi. That is, until he straight-up pushes her. At which point, Pauly literally drags his drunk ass out of the club.
The shenanigans continue back at the house as Ronnie slurringly brags about getting some girl's number and makes graphic gestures with his squatty hips while muttering, "¡Ven aqui!" All I can say to that is, "¡Sucio!" After some sloppy rolling around on the ground, he retires to Sammi's bed for some sloppy make-up sex. Sitch wonders exactly how aware Sammi is of Ronnie's infidelity and how much she's acknowledging to herself.
Downstairs, Vinny has passed out on the bean bag chair by the phone when Snooki comes down to hiccup a five a.m. wake-up call to her ill-fated boyfriend Emilio. He won't move, so they wriggle around together, giggling and knocking over tables all the while. Good old-fashioned family fun if you ask me! Emilio, on the other hand, is not amused. After she hangs up, Vinny invites her into his bed for a platonic cuddle. "I won't touch you," he promises. "I need companionship." Snooki asks, "Like a dog?" Love. It. And then things get hairy -- like a dog, you might say. They lie innocently to each long enough for Snooki's little hamster wheel brain to start turning. thing you know, she's asking an entirely different question: "Wanna fuck?" Vinny sweetly replies, "Sure." And Snooki burp-hiccups the start to their romantical foreplay.
They wake up the morning, still in their clothes... mostly. Vinny wonders if he did "the unthinkable." Before he can answer his own question, Emilio calls. Vinny tells Emilio Snooki's asleep and hangs up. Sitch immediately bags on him, and Vinny insists that he didn't do anything with Snooki. But you can see it in his eyes that he fears he'll never live this night down.
Later, JWoww bitches about the constant ups and downs between Sammi and Ronnie, who are still in bed. She asks Pauly what they should do about Ronnie's creeping. JWoww calls Ronnie a pig, but Pauly remains noncommittal -- mainly because he thinks Sammi would be stupid enough to stay with Ronnie even after she found out the truth. Proving as much, Sammi complains in an interview about Ronnie's "mixed signals." I don't know if I'd classify calling someone a "c*nt" and a "fucking bitch" mixed signals, but I don't really speak Jersey or Bronx dialect, so it must be my misunderstanding. Ugh.
That afternoon, Sammi, Sitch and Ronnie report for their shift at the gelato shop. Sammi Mensa-heart herself struggles to scoop gelato. Somehow this helps Ronnie resolve his dilemma about whether he should reinstate her as his girlfriend. He hugs her and calls her his girl as some creepy assistant manager raises his eyebrows approvingly at them from the back of the store. Sammi toasts her victory with a double scoop of gelato. Oh wait, she's too stupid to scoop fucking Italian ice. Scratch that.
That night, Pauly, Vinny and The Situation dub themselves MVP (Mike-Vinny-Pauly) and decide to storm MIA in support of the GFF (Grenade-Free Foundation). Pauly breaks out a pair of super-bright red sneakers for the occasion, announcing that his fire engine-hued kicks mean the creeping is ON. Cue requisite Angelina cock-blocking in which she desperately wants to come with them but tries to pretend she'll be uncomfortable being the only girl. They're all, "Yeah, you probably shouldn't come. It won't be fun for you since it's a guys' night... Seriously, though. Don't come." This rejection only makes Angelina want to horn in that much more. Pauly matter-of-factly tells her, "It's not MVPA." Truth. Eventually, the guys realize that Angelina is not going to give up, so they devise a plan to ditch her that probably would have been obvious to a third-grader. Of course, it works on Angelina, because she turns her head for a second to act all cool and blasé in front of JWoww. They scamper out the door and high-five each other at their masterful trickery.
While Angelina hangs out with the girls to the sound of crickets chirping, the guys think they're going to get their smush on. Instead, our huh-roes are besieged with grenades. They finally find some girls who'll at least take their tops off and get in the hot tub. The Situation comes up for air mid-way through the hot tub high jinks and removes his night time sunglasses to realize they are in the midst of yet more grenades. Worse, Pauly D's body seems to be hurtling in slow motion at one of them! Sitch tries to figure out how to get Pauly out of the trance of the girl's lobster-like sunburn and strapless bra. Because both are so sexy. But she's whispering all sorts of sultry things in the vein of "What happens in Miami..." into his gel-filled ear, and even Sitch's copious mugging for the camera will not save his wingman.
Everyone is momentarily distracted, though, when a chicken cutlet (the kind you put in your bra, not the kind you eat) randomly starts floating around in the hot tub. They initiate a game of catch and eventually decide these girls are too gross and desperate even for their low standards. But before that, all of them spend many strange minutes trying to figure out what the bust-booster actually is. Obviously, these guys aren't as experienced as they claim if they've never seen a chicken cutlet before. And as for the girls, I'm not even going to try to plumb the depths of their hot-tub-soup minds. I might get lost, like I'm four levels down in a dream in Inception or some shit. Who knows what kind of toxic ideas MVP could plant in my subconscious?
The day, more fun at the gelato shop! Snooki can't reach the ice cream or reach over the counter! But she's still better at gelato scooping than Sammi! And Sitch tries to entice people to come into the shop with his overblown, malformed abs. Then Snooki injures her cooter on a cement camel statue. And likes it.
The kids arrive home from their shift and prepare for another night on the town. Sammi and Ronnie decide to stay in. After about 13.5 seconds, Ronnie jumps ship to creep with the guys. Sammi's hurt. Blah blah blah, tell me something I don't know. After a bunch of back-and-forth, Sammi stays at home and lies in bed alone like a sucker. The girls go out and bitch about what a sleaze Ronnie is. And the creepy creep himself dances 'til dawn. At which point he'll still get some from Sammi. I'd be jealous of the lack of consequences, but then I remember it's Sammi. She is the most painful consequence of all. Save maybe Ronnie himself.
week: Ronnie dry humps some more club skank, so the ladies decide to take action in the form of an anonymous letter. Sammi says it's over. Again.
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