We begin the third chapter of Jersey Shore's Italian fairytale with our merry band of macaroni rascals slowly rising out of bed to meet the Florentine morning. Just as Mike was kicking his regular bit on the side — Yankee girl-on-the-go Brittany — out of bed, Snooki, puffy faced and invariably hungover, decided to hit the gym with Ron — a plan which quickly devolved into over-filled glasses of mid-morning wine on the piazza. There, Snooki pressed Ron about his soon-to-be kick-started relationship, saying that not only does she think Ron and Sam belong together, but that she actually misses the dulcet sounds of their violent and destructive union — a certifiably insane statement which indicates either some sort of selective amnesia, or too much mid-morning pinot (my money is on the latter).
After several more glasses of vino, and several near-peen brushes with her over-the-hill (but still up for it) gym instructor, Snooki and her pals finally embarked on their favorite, most cherished part of any day: hitting the clubs. At Central, Snooki explained to us that, since she's in a committed relationship with wunderguido Jionni, she now goes clubbing in "a different way" — which in her case, means dancing double-time by herself while repeating the curious mantra "bam-bam-bam" over and over again, like an overly focused dance captain with Asperger's. Meanwhile, Sam approached Ron, coyly purring, "I just want you to have fun in Florence, Italy." Which is like, the most bizarre and absurdly location-specific way to organize a thought, even for someone as feeble-minded as Sammi Sweatpants. It's sort of like us saying, "We just want to eat pizza tonight in Providence, Rhode Island — in the United States of America; which is a country on Earth, by the way."
Anyway, after the two love-turds agreed to put off "the talk" until the following day (a lunch date which sent twisted knots deep into the pits of my Ron/Sam-hating stomach), Deena's "Lean Cuisine" waiter showed up. See, earlier that day, while cruising the city for some local action, Deena had exchanged guido pleasantries with a surprisingly small and unimposing waiter whom our little meatball said "actually speaks well English" — which, of course, begs the question: Was Deena raised in a prisoner camp somewhere off the coast, and taught English by a stammering parrot? Regardless, Deena had given her digits to this linguistic superstar, and the two were now speaking that international language of love: Jersey Turnpiking in the middle of a the dance floor.
Meanwhile, The Scenario's 15-minutes-of-reality-TV-fame-milking dignityphobe, Brittany, showed up with her twin sister, Erica — a sexy turn of events which prompted Pauly D to make a Charlie Sheen-inspired "winning" pun by saying "twinning". This was painfully unfunny for viewers at home, of course, since no one has even thought about bi-winning, or trolls, or any of that other flash-in-the-pan mayhem and foolishness, since America's Sheensploitation fad faded in favor of its Casey Anthony death-porn obsession.
Later, back at the house, Deena used every big word in her relatively dwarfish vocabulary to try and coax her waiter-friend into bed for a night of sweaty cuddling, but was deterred by loud (read: totally jealous) taunts from Vinny and Pauly. Not wanting to be c*ck-blocked by the boys' jeers (or by any pretense of femininity), Deena stormed into the living room and started screaming obscenities like a rabid trucker — which had the double effect of shutting her friends up, and scaring the living shit out of that poor, frail water. And later, after lying in bed, sleeplessly trembling until the last of the vile Americans had fallen to sleep, the terrified waiter quietly slipped out of Deena's musty bed, let himself out of the apartment, and ran screaming from reality TV as far and as fast as his bony little legs could take him.
The next morning, The Scenario's twins telephoned the house. Repeatedly. But because Mike was still sleeping (it was only 12pm, after all), Paul, Ron, and Vin took gentlemanly turns slamming the receiver down whenever they rang — until, that is, Ron got the inspired idea to pretend that he was Mike, inviting the stalkerish twins over. And although Ron's Scenario impression left much to be desired (there weren't enough greasy top-notes, perhaps), the girls feverishly took the bait, and surprised Mike with an impromptu visit which, sadly, never really packed the comedic impact that Ron's relatively limited resources were aiming for.
Later, on the other side of Florence, Ron and Sammi sat down for their big relationship summit. Sammi Sweatpants gushed that Ron had taken her to a romantic rooftop luncheon; and it would have be romantic, perhaps, had the entire gang not eaten alfresco at the same rooftop cafe (where they erroneously claimed to see the Vatican — le sigh) in last week's cracker of an episode. Anyway, the lunch was full of stifled tears and delusions of codependent granduer, and the gruesome twosome resolved to give their tired relationship another go. Which, yay, everyone deserves a second chance! Except, of course, that this isn't a second, or a third, or even a tenth chance. So, yeah: Good luck with that, guys.
After regaling their housemates with word of their much-hyped reunion (the news almost sparked a double-suicide between poor Vinny and Pauly), Ron and Sam joined the rest of the gang for another fist-pumping night out. And everyone was having a truly, amazingly epic night out! Jenni and Pauly were doing the big lift from Dirty Dancing, Vinny was working the room by doing "the worm"; basically, it was like 1987 all over again. Then, in a now legendary feat of spotlight-stealing stalking, the twins appeared from out of nowhere, and began assaulting Mike with their best Floridian dance moves. All of that carbon-copy grinding immediately put Mike in the mood for some hardcore twin tag-teaming; but his dreams of incestuous threesome glory were quickly dashed when Deena (perhaps scorned by her runaway waiter?) swooped in and started horsing into Erica's virgin face. (It's also worth noting that earlier, Erica had overshared with Snooki that, unlike her meals-on-heels sister, she was still holding onto her V-card.) Anyway, Erica mostly reciprocated the painfully intense mouth-to-mouth that Deena was doling out, but the half-hearted "I'm eating raw octopus for the first time because everyone else is doing it"-type expression on her face ultimately betrayed any attempt at feigned enjoyment.
Anyway, because there was a camera crew as well as the chance of shaming her parents on national television, and because the gallons of low-grade vodka she'd consumed had knocked out whatever virgin inhibitions she had left, Erica resolved to go home for some girl-on-girl mischief with Deena. The two started lightly frolicking in bed like a pair of NYU freshman, until Deena got a meatball hunger pang and ran into the kitchen for supplies. Imagine her surprise, then, when she returned to the bedroom to find her heteroflexible friend, Erica, straddling Vinny! D and V then proceeded to bargain for E like she was a prized heifer at auction (which, frankly, Erica didn't seem to mind), until Deena ultimately grabbed Erica's pixelated ass and dragged her into bed for some more deep sea diving.
And while Snooki and The Scenario were having a buddy-buddy smoke-break chat about Brittany (who was waiting for Mike in bed), Ron was in the kitchen telling Sam and Bowwoww about how, at the beginning of the trip, Mike had told him about that adulterous, West-Coast sexscapade with Snooki. Bowwoww, always the loyal friend, stormed into the courtyard, pulled Snooks away from Mike, and gave her the low-down. Upon hearing that Mike had told everyone about their alleged cuckolding adventures, Snooki began screaming at Sitch, claiming that he was lying.
Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, Deena was in the midst of her own intimacy-related meltdown. Realizing that what she actually craved wasn't the vommy kisses of a party-trick lesbian, but a bona fide, non-strapped-on penis, she shoved listless sex-receptacle Erica back into Vinny's bed, and quietly went to sleep.
And back outside, both Snooki and The Scenario made their separate cases. Snooks testified that, several months back, she had shot Mike down when he approached her for a bit of naked Jersey Turnpiking, and that he was spreading shiz in an effort to break up her and Jionni; and Mike maintained his side of the grisly story, claiming that everyone in the world knows that he's not a liar. Which, like, okay, sure, whatever. Anyway, both Snooki and The Scenario desperately begged their friends to believe their respective sides of the story — with Snooki coming across as hyper defensive, and Mike coming across (per usual) as a hyper-sleazy pot-stirrer. In the end, Ron said he doesn't know who to believe. For once — and perhaps for the last time ever — we couldn't help but think that Ron was making a whole lot of sense.