Part 1 of this week’s two-night “television event of the summer” has us on the edge of our seats wondering who will survive: Chad the Meat Monster or the mere mortals who despise him? We won’t know until tonight which underperforming bachelor buckles under Chad’s ‘roid rage, but based on previews, a majestic inflatable flamingo might take the hardest hit of all. Rest in peace, beautiful creature. His behavior is not your fault.
Let’s begin way back at the hot yoga sex show, where JoJo pretends to be uncomfortable during this week’s first one-on-one date with medical sales rep and mystical muscle man Chase. Sure, “anger-gasms” sound weird, but to claim there’s nothing sexy about thrusting one’s pelvis while grunting is patently absurd. Before long, the pair are entwined in a “Yab-Yum pose” — their third eye is in alignment, as are their genitals. “This is the first time I’ve mounted a guy on the first date,” JoJo claims to dubious effect. They’re practically banging, so why not slide right into that first kiss already? Dinner and a private concert by Lady Antebellum’s Charles Kelley seem redundant for these two devoted tantric partners, who should probably have graduated to some sort of spiritual hot spring summit by now. But a 1:1 date rose and some close hugging will have to do.
The meat monster does NOT wanna go on a lame group date with 11 other men. He’s here for the free snacks, and all of these pesky social mandates (sit here, sleep there, don’t punch that door) are, frankly, preposterous. When Aaron Rodgers’ brother Jordan playfully questions his intelligence, Chad snaps at the 27-year-old “failed football player” that he’s “done nothing with your life except throw a piece of leather.” Wait, isn’t he supposed to be a “luxury real estate agent”? Essentially these two had the same job if you think about it. Bottom line: Chad hates himself. Shhh. Don’t tell him.
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Jordan, Grant, Wells, James F., Christian, Ali, Daniel, Vinny, Nick, Evan, and Alex join JoJo and Angry Chad for a disastrous group date at “Sex Talks,” a stage show in which audience members share embarrassing sex stories. Tepid highlights include Nick bragging to the entire female viewership about how much he loves cunnilingus (in case this whole JoJo thing doesn’t work out, which it won’t) and the tail end of Daniel’s story, which involved him chaining a woman to a bed and lopping off some of her hair. Thank God he’s too dumb to be a serial killer (his favorite bodily fluid is “poo”) because that’d be one hell of a signature. You’d think erectile dysfunction specialist Evan would have plenty of actual sex stuff to talk about, but instead he spends his whole “act” explaining the dangerous side effects of steroids – so basically provoking Chad – because everything about this sad, droopy man’s Bachelorette lifespan has been scripted out for him ahead of time. Does he really have three kids? Or a single penis? I just don’t care.
Evan stumbles back to his seat, giving the meat monster a perfect opportunity to rip Evan’s shirt right down the back. Chad later claims Evan pushed him first, but I watched it three times (any more and I’d have had to call in an extra security guard) and obviously Chad was the aggressor. Having prepared no salacious sex story to perform for the paid extras falling asleep in the stands, Chad calls JoJo to the stage. She rebuffs his attempt to kiss her, prompting him to shrug and chuck the mic. Whatever, bitch. He wasn’t even interested.
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Chad totally doesn’t care. But just for good measure and because his brain is about to explode out of his body, he punches a huge metal door on his way backstage. When he spots the Evan-gelist, Chad three-finger flicks him in the throat, warning, “You’re gonna fucking die, bro, if you don’t calm down.” Chad, come on. Everyone’s gonna expire anyway, so what is the fucking rush? There’s plenty of shabby furniture piling up in the background, threatening to trap us in this episode forever — can’t you get to work on rearranging that, maybe get some of the lead out? Apparently not. “If I can’t lift weights, I’m gonna murder someone,” says the meat monster. He skulks around in search of weak-willed men or sawdust. Perhaps their remains can convert into protein powder.
Backstage, most of the men manage to enjoy private conversations with JoJo despite the chilling realization that they’re vacuum-packed in a prop closet with dozens of weapons, one angry Chad, and zero deli meats. When he finally gets time with JoJo, Chad calls Evan “a little kid trying to beat up the bully.” Her cheerfully delivered solution: “Don’t be a bully!” But Chad doesn’t get it. The meathead wants her to want more. “Are you, like, super confused about me? I’m like no one you ever met or something?” Nope. Not really, killer. Both of you just said it out loud. You’re a narcissistic mean boy, nothing else.
As Chad checks himself out in what appears to be a birdhouse but must be a mirror, Evan gives JoJo an ultimatum: Get rid of Chad or he’ll walk. Ha, no worries. Chad’s not threatened: “No one chooses Evan for anything, other than to come sweep her front yard.” Here’s where JoJo should have lunged at the opportunity to kill Evan’s projection of an erection and send him home – not because Chad said so but because he’s a useless turd intent on stirring up drama. She is so not attracted to Evan that it’s almost unbelievable they’re even talking. Yet Evan gets the coveted group date rose (“Is this a real scenario right now?!” Chad head-jerks his way into near-oblivion) because, lo and behold, JoJo “appreciates him and his honesty”. The only thing less sexy than that explanation is the awkward pity-peck our bachelorette drops on Evan to get him to shut up about his newfound confidence. His three kids are gonna be so proud. “Guess what, guys?” Evan scripts his own promo after the fact. “Daddy made out with JoJo!”
I’m so grossed out I can barely think straight, but luckily I don’t have to because JoJo and singer-songwriter James Taylor are going swing dancing! “There’s not a lot of guys like James out there,” says JoJo. “He’s kind of an old soul, a gentleman.” Under the watchful eyes of 92-year-old Lindy hop legend Jean Veloz, the pair trudges through a dance lesson that would have been a thousand times more stressful had it not been for James’ buoyant attitude. “His energy and positivity is so attractive,” JoJo gushes, adding that she hopes they can “break through our friendship” and find that special spark. It’s a tall order for an even taller man, and despite their picturesque kiss atop a classic convertible, I don’t think James serves up what she really wants. But JoJo falls for the poor sap after he confides in her about his deep-rooted insecurity and self-loathing. The kids used to call him Luke Longneck! Now the former ugly duckling playing house in an attractive man’s body needs to sing a goofy love song about the last season of The Bachelor in order to work up the mojo to kiss one of its stars. “Love is definitely, possibly on the horizon,” James tries to convince himself. “No doubt.”
Meanwhile, back at the mansion, vegan-for-a-day Chad is going to town on a straight up raw yam. His only friend, Canadian Daniel, fears his association with Chad will reflect poorly on him, so he suggests Chad channel Mussolini instead of Hitler. “Let’s not pretend I’m Hitler,” Chad jumps in, and it’s the most rational thing anyone has said all night. Daniel won’t let up. Maybe Chad could be more like one of the Bushes, if possible. Or Donald Trump! Hey, whatever, man. Chad’s willing to play along and downgrade for today. He gnaws on a head of lettuce and considers his next move. Green juice? Nah. Not yet. (They’re saving all the best footage for Tuesday.) What’s even more hilarious than Daniel’s dumbness is the fact that he thinks Chad wants him around. Chad is not here to make friends! He exists solely to count calories and pop veins in the sun.
Chris Harrison drops by to alert the guys that due to ABC wanting to smother us with steroids this week, that night’s cocktail party would now be a pool party with a rose ceremony chaser — provided any brave souls can survive that long in the presence of Chad. Evan knows he is not made for this world, this “reality” in which his life might actually be in danger, so he pulls Chris aside to tattle on the meat monster. There’s “a lot of testosterone” in play here, our host reminds the dick doc. But a “dark storm cloud in the house” that can’t be tamed by security guards is nothing to mess with, so Chris is forced to step back into the mansion and jiggle that tornado right in the pecs until something really bad happens.
Chad’s busy eating, of course. “At this point it’s an obsession,” he says, referring to both Evan and the 24/7 all-Chad-can-eat buffet. Something flickers in the distance — it’s Robby the former professional swimmer, trying to snag a second of screen time by drinking from a glamorous golden goblet. No go this time, kid. All eyes are on ticking truth bomb Chad as Chris…well, basically eggs Chad on. “This is your chance to go settle it,” he urges the other bachelors’ worst nightmare. “Think about an approach that might be received well…”
Coming up tonight: The flamingo takes a kick to the head, a body sinks to the bottom of the pool (or maybe someone goes for a swim), and suddenly James Taylor’s beautiful face is bleeding! Is this what Chris Harrison meant by “drawing the line”? Will Chad and Evan ever decide which one of them is stalking the other? Stay tuned.