The couples had plenty of blankets and absinthe to keep them warm. No games of True American were necessary to get these kids wormwooded off their faces. Jess became convinced that her bed had gone missing and went skipping upstairs. Nick said, “I gotta go check on that,” which Angie took to mean, “I brought you here for a swingers party!” Upstairs, Jess found the toilet instead of her bed. Sobered up, she told Nick she liked Angie. That sentiment would last about 15 more seconds. When they headed back downstairs, Angie was trying to make out with an unwilling and still completely snockered Sam. She giggled, “Hey, Nick, guess what! We switched!” Yeah, this is definitely not what Liz Meriwether was talking about.
In the ensuing argument, Nick accused Jess of pretending to be perfect, outed her for inviting the others to the cabin so she didn’t have to be her real self with Sam, then chugged about half a bottle of absinthe in order to prove how “rock ‘n’ roll” he was. The only thing that could break up this tension was a bout of projectile vomiting from Sam. Luckily he projected the spew into the fire, which blazed mightily as if hit with gasoline.
The tension began afresh when they sat down for dinner. Nick was now tripping balls and unleashed a stream-of-consciousness about his likes and dislikes: “I like dogs more than cats. I like chipmunks more than squirrels. I believe in UFOs. I once had a bass teacher when I was younger who did the standing bass, and he had a very weird smell, and I still remember that smell. His name was Mr. Hilton. [to Angie] I don’t like the fact that you tried to kiss Sam because I have feelings for you, Angie.” While that sink in, Nick non sequitured, “Doctor Sam, if you were a hat, you’d be a top hat… but, like, a really big Monopoly one.” And… boom.
A bit later, Nick had returned to his right mind. He and Angie had an earnest conversation. She admitted she was prone to self-sabotage in relationships. He insisted he didn’t want to be some sort of brunching, cookie-cutter couple, but he did want a bit of normalcy. He proposed they start by not “tattooing” each other’s armpits. Just as they reached this détente, Nick looked up and freaked out about a painting of a bird on the wall. Not entirely sober after all, apparently.
Downstairs, Jess recognized she had to stop being such a perfectionist, and Sam rightly noted that he deserved major brownie points for turning down a stripper while wacky-faced on absinthe. Those two just might make a go of it, huh?
Not so much for Nick and Angie. He woke up the next morning to find she’d left a note — and left with several of his personal belongings. Since he didn’t have a wallet, he bartered for a ride home in “Nick bucks: Fully redeemable for smiles and one item from [his] bureau.” Before they loaded into the car, Jess gave him a non-hug and a brief pick-me-up talk, which he reluctantly accepted. Then he helped himself to some “game-y” potato salad from the trash can and another swig of absinthe. If girls get through break-ups with sappy romantic movies and tubs of ice cream, this is how Nick Miller does it.
NEXT: Crack attack