Image credit: MTV
2GETHER 4EVER Thanks to the magic of wide-angle lens photography, this freeze-frame looks a little bit like a giant magical creature with a steroid pumpkin head is sneaking up on a human girl who has been crying for her lost lover. In actuality, they're just a typical pair of low-self-esteem millionaires.
More Jersey Shore recaps
- EPISODE 06 | We are Going to be Damned. We are Going to be Done. We are Going to be Ruined.
- EPISODE 05 | Bad Waves of Paranoia, Madness, Fear and Loathing
- EPISODE 04 | Me Against the World: The Sammi Sweetheart Story
- EPISODE 03 | The Situation is George Lucas: A Theory
The Situation and Pauly D have a stripper-ful birthday party, and poor Vinny has to return to the death house| Published Jan 26, 2012
Boss Danny could sense that something was amiss in the Shore House. Ever since the departure of humble Vin-Vin, the housemates had lost their moral compass. (Also, the median IQ dropped at least 40 points when Vinny left.) The Situation had run away from home to hide in his tree house and cry. When Danny walked into the living room, he could see signs of degradation everywhere. Snooki and Deena were playing the Burp game, which is when two people burp into each other's mouth. (Loser vomits first!) Pauly D was over in his Sneaker Colony, shining his beautiful shoes while mumbling quietly to himself, "Maybe Vinny left because my shoes were dirty. If only I make my shoes clean, Vinny will come home." Sammi and Ronnie appeared to be in a wholly functional relationship. It was horrible.
Like all small business owners in this miserable economy, Boss Danny had to make some difficult choices. "I'm down to six people now," said Danny. "I'm looking for more people right now. So make room." The housemates felt assaulted. "There's no room for anybody!" they protested. They were offended. They were flabbergasted. They farted with fear. Snooki had a special promise for anyone looking to join the Shore crew: "I will kill you. I don't care if I'm small. I'll kick you."
Boss Danny wanted to light a fire under them. He wanted to inspire his young charges, just like Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society or Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting. Picture Boss Danny hugging The Situation, whispering "It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's not your fault." And initially, the plan seemed to work. The Meatballs showed up for work and were surprisingly conscious. Unfortunately, the Meatheads were less diligent. Ronnie showed up for work late, but in uniform. The Situation showed up for work late, and not in uniform. Danny stepped things up by posting a "Help Wanted" sign outside. A girl named Melissa walked in. "How old are you?" Danny asked. "21" she said. The Situation suddenly expressed an interest in selling T-shirts. Another girl walked in and claimed to be 22. "She's kind of cute," said Ronnie. "But that Michael Jackson hat has to go." Trust Ronnie. He knows bad hats.
J-Woww tried to counterattack by pulling down the Help Wanted sign. This plan failed because it was stupid. Boss Danny told her to make a new one. The Situation suggested she write: "Help Wanted: See the Old Duded." J-Woww accurately said: "They might think it's you." The Situation laughed and laughed and then was suddenly flooded with memories of watching Neil Armstrong walk on the moon and being at Woodstock and taking LSD with a young Steve Jobs.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to no one, the girls were plotting the fifth birthday party for Pauly D and the first for The Situation. They had an elaborate plan which involved strippers, handcuffs, and wheelchairs. So basically, the party had a My Left Foot theme. They were dealing with a skeeveball stripper captain who called himself "The Wizard of Ass," presumably the older brother of Rinkitink of Ass and Assma of Ass. They asked the stripper captain if he ever slept with his strippers. He had no comment. What a fun little subculture the stripper underground must be!
Anyhow, the gang brought Mike and Pauly D to a club that was really dark and shadowy, and then this happened:
A bunch of dudes sprayed silly string on them. It was just like a fraternity hazing ritual, except even more Freudian somehow.
NEXT: Boobcake and Buttcake and Strippercake, oh my!