What Was the Shocking Conclusion to Luke P.’s Story? Enquiring MJs want to know.
This week’s record heat waves, heavy winds, and tornado warnings are all more entertaining, and less damaging to the human spirit, than tonight’s special Men Tell All episode. Imagine baseball-sized hail crashing through car windows and crushing squirrels’ skulls to represent Luke P.’s appearance on this noisome blabberfest. It’s an unhealthier filler than motor oil in your buttocks.
We’ll also be subjected to a taste of Hannah’s final-three Rose Ceremony, when we’ll learn who was eliminated among Jed, Tyler, and Peter. It’s Peter, but after the recent Chris Wallace interview, everyone in the country wants Stephen Miller sent away.
We’ll also see Luke at his most precisely engineered obtuseness, when he returns to challenge Hannah’s decision to banish him. It’s like a termite pleading with the Orkin Man. Worse, the doofus arrives bearing an engagement ring and a framed printout of Corinthians 7:2-5.
Your task tonight: Try to put names to the faces of all those high-haired, stubble-faced, muscle-bound mopes Hannah tossed aside earlier this season. I can’t even recall what Luke S. or Tyler G. look like. If you can’t either, Bachelor Nation will start chanting to send you back where you came from. In my case, it’s to the Law & Order marathon on We TV. That’s certainly crime-infested.
Next week, the bachleorette will choose whether to become Hannah Cameron, Hannah Wyatt, or Hannah Barbera. Exit, staaaaage left.
After we reestablish that Hannah has had sex and Jesus still loves her, Chris appears to introduce the rest of this shameless debacle that did more damage to Greece than its debt crisis.
Now Hannah finds it hard to move forward, as it will guarantee hurting yet another shmendrik and possibly a decline in ratings. Peter, Tyler, and Jed each tell Chris how good they feel going into the Rose Ceremony, especially after all the ouzo. For her part, Hannah does not regret her decision about Luke, nor will she question her choices, and furthermore, she is glad he is gone. That’s exactly how I feel about Alex Acosta.
Luke, however, just can’t be pried off the show, like gum stuck under your desk in the third grade. He is on his way to interrupt the proceedings and reclaim his one true love against all odds. Dustin Hoffman did this scene a lot more effectively.
Dramatic music plays as he approaches the group waiting for Hannah. He stands next to Jed, as welcome as that woman eating a falafel in the seat next to you on the F train. Hannah then arrives, accompanied by a soundtrack from an Indiana Jones movie and wearing a version of the mini-dress in Pretty Woman.
Despite her disgust at his presence, Luke asks her to talk. She brushes him off, intent on handing out only two roses. There’s nary even a slice of baklava for Luke, but he is insistent. “I’m about to go psycho,” she warns him. But he is not leaving til he has closure. How about closing the lid on a trunk with him inside and padlocking it.
“This is my heart we’re talking about,” Luke whines. It seems more like another organ, but okay. An enraged Hannah refuses, calling him a narcissist as she tries to continue the ceremony. The other men surround him threateningly, and say unthreateningly, “Dude, back off.” John Wayne, they aren’t.
Bickering ensues. The men standing protectively neard Hannah as she tries to make Luke understand, but it’s like doing a magic trick for a baboon. “I swear that ball was under the middle cup! Just hear me out!”
Luke insists he never judged Hannah, but she ain’t buying. To be fair, telling her she shouldn’t have sex with anyone else was less judgmental than the plot of a Lifetime movie from the 90’s. Chris finally intervenes to ask the status of the situation. The show relies his valuable input.
But Luke still wants to know if Hannah has complete clarity. He must have handled the ending of The Sixth Sense very poorly.
Chris takes Hannah aside and blabs that Luke was ready to propose to her, or least ask her dad if he could throw in a flock of goats when Luke makes a bid on his daughter. She is not impressed. The other guys are relieved, and pledge to prevent their sisters from ever following Luke on Instagram.
At the studio, Chris hits the pause button so we can “deal with what we’ve just witnessed,” as if it were the second moon landing. Luke is brought out first, beardless and banal as ever. “Everyone is still trying to process” it all, Chris exclaims. Salk said the same thing when he developed the polio vaccine.
Luke is petulant. He wanted both clarity and closure, but Hannah didn’t give him the chance, or even a thesaurus to come up with some new words. He tells Chris he made a mistake viewing Hannah as this perfect, apparently chaste, woman, when she was busy climbing on a bunch of other guys like they were jungle gyms. Yet he still believed she loved him best. He felt he had to stop her from choosing Jed, Tyler, Peter or one of the lighting crew.
Silence falls over the studio as Luke struggles to articulate the power of his feelings for Hannah. They’re stronger than his feelings for guacamole, but not as strong as his love of Marvel movies. That passion led him to conduct himself in a manner unfitting a reality show contestant who wasn’t on Survivor.
“I was prideful and arrogant, but narcissist is too strong a word,” he observes. Does he still love her, Chris wants to know. Kind of, but then again, there’s a sale on the model of silicone sex doll he’s had his eye on. Chris asks if Luke made any mistakes. “I wouldn’t change a thing,” he replies. This is why we need special prosecutors.
Nevertheless, Luke is thankful for the opportunity to learn and grow as a man. He feels Rhode Island is where he learned the most, after lying and having his nose grow. The hardest thing was having the woman he thought was “the one” defy his demands repeatedly.
“Did you think she needed to be saved?” Chris asks, pretending to be shaken. Luke must backpedal yet again. Suddenly, Devin appears from backstage. His blood has been boiling, and not just from the tacos he had for dinner. He accuses Luke of wanting to control a woman to feel better about himself. Everyone claps. NOW quickly makes up bumper stickers.
Luke is compelled to think abut what Devin just said, so there’s more dead air that’s slightly more interesting than the countless ads for pharmaceuticals. “The last thing I want is to control women,” he finally says. Fine, but why it did it take so long for him to come up with the equivalent of “The last thing I want is to to harm small animals.”
Now for the rest of the men. Chris reads off their names like they’re Santa’s reindeer. He wants to know why Luke couldn’t get along with virtually anyone else. He even picked a fight with the Fresh Direct driver. Luke replies that they were all envious of his First Impression Rose. He probably has it pressed between two G.K. Chesterton books.
Mike begs to differ. “Luke hasn’t learned a thing,” he tells us, and suggests that any wife of Luke will be his prisoner. Another guy calls him a liar, a manipulator, and a psychopath. Also a Scorpio, which is just the worst.
Luke pretends to finally realize what a terrible person he is. He asks for forgiveness, but it is not granted by this assortment of blowhards. “This is not about Luke P.,” Grant (?) tells him. “It’s about Hannah.” Dylan advises Luke to mature, and never talk to another woman like he did to Hannah. All these guys are suddenly Dr. Sidney Freedman, but without the dry wit or service to their country. At this point, Luke is now more hated than Juan Pablo, Joffrey Baratheon, and Pol Pot combined.
A discussion of the nature of virginity and celibacy follows. It’s less edifying than my seventh-grade health class. As a former sl**, Luke explains, he simply wanted to know if Hannah was a current one, and probably also if the other guys were better in bed.
Luke is hurt that some of the guys won’t accept his apology. He hopes they can forgive him before they appear together on Bachelor in Paradise. Then, as Chris tries to move the show forward into further inanity, Luke asks to speak again. He insists what we saw on the show is not the real Luke. He’s actually more like Simon Bar Sinister crossed with Jared Kushner and a Pomeranian.
Finally, John Paul Jones gets his moment in the sun. He’s like a young Val Kilmer with even less of a career ahead of him, although now he is recognized at the airport. A woman in the audience, who is wearing a WWJPJD t-shirt, wants to cut a lock of his hair as Hannah did. That’s in the Bible, too. After that, he tosses chicken nuggets to the audience. Another memorable TV moment, right up there with finding out who shot JR and Sinead O’Connor tearing up a photo of the Pope.
Next up is Mike. He’s a very handsome fellow, with broad shoulders, a dazzling smile, and expertly drawn eyebrows. He has all the traits necessary to be the next Bachelor or the newest Old Spice guy. His departure from the show is painful to watch, especially if your neck has been bothering you. He expresses his genuine sorrow at being sent home by Hannah. The women in the audience are deeply moved, both above and below the waist.
And now Hannah joins the festivities, her fake eyelashes and highlights reliably in place. She announces she is blessed to have had all the men on this ride with her, even if a few are missing and several more she can’t identify. She then admits the feelings she had for Luke at the outset were real, but she blames that on being insecure about being the Bachelorette. Was she good enough? Was she pretty enough? Was her Q rating high enough? Luke made her feel at least as good as Desiree Hartsock.
Hannah laughs derisively as she explains how pointless it was to let a bounder like Luke validate her. Turning to him, she says there’s “a lot of fruit to be grown from you.” No one understands what this means, except maybe Chris Soules watching from the farm in Iowa.
Furthermore, Hannah did not appreciate feeling shamed by Luke. How dare he suggest she was obsessed with sex, nor was it anyone else’s business whom she shtupped or even if she did. Luke accuses her of telling him she planned to have sex in the Fantasy Suite. She flashes back at him that the suites are not just for sex. They’re largely for the local tourism board to use for promotional purposes. In fact, couples could spend the night getting blotto or playing Yahtzee.
Pulling herself up to full height, Hannah declares she is tired of being s*-shamed. She repents for her sins, and so does everybody else present, except whoever designed Devin’s jacket. That’s what grace is for, she explains. Thank you, Jolene Osteen. The audience claps enthusiastically. Jews everywhere glance at each other uncomfortably.
When we return from another ad for skin creme, Luke stalks out of the room. Chris says he’s catching a flight. . . to hell. Hannah turns to thank Mike. That goodbye was really hard for her, she assures him, as he was supportive and encouraging throughout their make-out sessions.
Garret tells Hannah how upset he was to be rejected in favor of a little weasel with a pocket square. She reveals that sadly, many women get stuck in toxic relationships with their own Lukes, such as Taylor Swift, my cousin from Florida, and the current First Lady. Only two of those make money off it, though.
Bloopers are next, which are always a nice relief from all the recriminations and resentment. Then Hannah apologizes for inflicting Luke on the population like Patient Zero for ebola. Maybe Luke can form a support group with the creators of Crystal Pepsi and the Apple Newton.
Now a dramatic sneak peek at the Rose Ceremony and its aftermath. Hannah acknowledges that dating more than one person at the same time is not the brightest idea. In another scene, she demands to get out of the car, then takes a spill on the road. It’s even more dramatic than a Life Alert ad.
Who will Hannah choose for her life partner? Who will present the Neil Lane ring? Who are you? Who, who, who, who?
