The Bachelorette”: Sometimes they come back”

Ep. 9: Ryan. Just go home, wouldja.

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It takes a special kind of scary person to be simultaneously pitiful and threatening, and, no, I’m not talking about JOHN BOEHNER (pats self on back, closes laptop, walks out into traffic).

Cryin’ Ryan is back, scarier and more pathetic than ever.

Aaaaaaaand, here’s why we like Chris Harrison. We like that when people cry around him (a thing that happens a lot, although not in this particular episode), he can barely seem to keep a straight face. We like that the curve of his nose is not unlike that of a Peregrine falcon’s beak.

BUT, most of all, we like that he’s forever available to make people’s dreams come true, no matter how unreasonable or dangerous they might be. Like, if you’re a discarded Bachelorette contestant and you’ve convinced yourself that you have unfinished business in a Polynesian island nation, well, shit, just call Chris! His cell number is pre-programmed into every phone in America! His ringtone is the Crazy Frog version of “Axel F.”

Having collected the crumb-and-cat-fur-covered shards of his broken heart and crudely pieced them back together, Ryan shows up in Fiji, where Ashley is supposed to be getting f-ed for the cameras by each of the final three contestants, Constantine, Ben and J.P.

Ryan staggers up to Ashley’s bungalow as his voice-over-thinking explains that there are “unfinished” and “undiscovered” things between them, and it’s pretty clear that if a camera wasn’t around, Ryan would have a lead pipe in his hand and would subsequently “discover” what the contents of Ashley’s skull look like. Instead, he just talks a lot — not about tankless water heaters IF YOU CAN BELIEVE IT — and tells Ashley he’s gonna hang out for a few days just in case she feels like seeing him at any point, because making yourself completely available is a thing all women find irresistible. “CALL ME CRAZY,” Ryan says, his smile-parts on the verge of breaking, “but the first time I stepped out of the limo, there was just something there.” No, no you don’t have to tell anyone to call you crazy.

Then Ben and Ashley set off on their hornymoon, a yacht trip during which they rub, straddle and snorkle. The grossest part: During the course of the date, Ben slowly, subtly but irrefutably turns into a woman, and not just because his new Flobee cut makes him look more like a lesbian than ever.

The V-neck sweater! The bracelets! The hand gestures! The permanent mist in his eyes!

Ashley, conversely, has turned into a walking boner. She hands Ben the Fantasy Suite note — which, my friend Ally and I decided, is actually just a drawing of two stick figures doing it doggy-style — thumbs her nose, grabs her crotch, puts her arm around the blushing Ben and says, “So, you wanna get outta here?” If they did what we think they did, there’s no way Ben didn’t sob the whole time and talk about how beautiful it was.

Fingies crossed she got her rocks off, because ol’ tiny tits is about to get a major blow to the ego.