Perhaps a change of scenery will help. After the duo abandons their failed attempt at fried frog legs and heads to a restaurant for a "real meal," Brian loosens up a bit and tells Andi that he regrets not making a move in the kitchen. Will a few sneaky kisses over beef bourguignonne save Brian's bacon? Oui! He gets the rose.
In another act of mercy -- for viewers, at least -- Andi decides that there's no reason to have a pre-rose ceremony cocktail party; she already knows which three guys are getting the boot. Chris Harrison delivers the news with his patented blend of grave seriousness and suppressed glee: "I know you guys came to this beautiful chateau looking forward to spending some time with Andi. [dramatic pause] That's not going to happen tonight." Quit your moping, boys: Time to line up! The Bachelorette, resplendent in a blue strapless sequined gown and a puffy side braid, arrives and, in her words, cuts to the chase: Marcus, Nick, Chris, Dylan, and Cody (!!!!!) join Josh, JJ, and Brian in the winners' circle. Though I'm not sad to see the back of Andrew, I will miss Marquel and his boldly clashing patterns. (Don't really know much about Patrick, except that he has a cute chin dimple and that lots of people -- "not just girls" -- say he has all the "qualities" one looks for in a husband.)
Before Andi and her man harem move on to Venice next week, let's take a moment and review what we've learned: American mimes are even more annoying than French ones; I'd rather hack off my own foot and eat it than ingest a live sea urchin; and Andi literally thinks Cody -- a grown-ass man with a Kewpie doll hairdo -- is better husband material than Marquel. Any questions? If so, hit me in the comments, and then head over to PopWatch to read Chris Harrison's take on le evening. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go write that seagull a thank-you note for pooping on Josh.