Sunday night’s three-hour “Bachelorette” finale—or as Chris Harrison says—”fuh-nahl-ee” was a tug-o-war on Emmie’s heart…well, kinda. Although we were wracked with questions leading up to the Neil Lane jewelry plug, such as: Would she go for the blonde, rich romantic entrepreneur Jef, who likes to speak as if he were rehearsing a love scene in a Shakespearean play? Would she choose the rich, brunette speed racer with the scary mom and whose tongue she knew most intimately? And finally: Why are there 12-year-old girls in the live studio audience looking seductively into the camera?
In the end, though, the single mama put most of our questions to rest when she made up her mind fairly quickly and chose Jef to be her hubby and step-dah-dah to Ricki.
Check out the deets on how she shattered poor Arie’s heart leading up to her nuptial-happy decision with Jef…
Emily’s family meet her in Curacao to help her figure out the right man for her—and they end up being absolutely of no help. We figure they’re just grateful they get to leave the U.S. of A. and see foreign lands—yeehaw! After meeting Jef, Em’s pa gives the bright-eyed boy his blessing before they even finish digesting their burgers. After seeing Arie’s nervous Adam’s Apple go down a few times, he also caves in to him, too. All we know about good ole Suzy (Em’s Ma) is that she may have had a pack too many of Salem Lights back in the day, and when it comes to “protective” bro Ernie, he’s just a mush at heart who likes to speak from just one side of his mouth.
The two helpful nuggets of advice, though, that Ma Suzy gives to Em is that maybe she should hold off on getting engaged, considering Ricki may still be wondering why Daddy Brad Womack-age hasn’t been around to give her piggyback rides, and that perhaps she should introduce Ricki to her future dah-dahs to see if there’s any chemistry.
Watch the Finale of “The Bachelorette”:
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In a split decision, Emily decides to introduce Jef to Ricki. They go to Emily’s suite, and Jef wins both mom and daughter’s heart when he high-fives the lil giggly six year old and swims with her and wears her pink goggles. (He also willingly reveals his mini muffin top.) Later they play with hermit crabs, while Ricki stares at him with her mouth open. The usually shy little girl talks to Jef openly…and somewhere in Texas, Brad Womack bashes his head in anger on the hood of his pick-up truck.
The next day Em tells Chris Harrison that she knows Jef is The One but immediately tears up thinking about how she’s gonna hurt speed-tongue racer Arie.
When she meets the John Travolta-lookalike, he shows her the love potion he’s made for her. She breaks down and sniffles profusely. She tells him despite her strong feelings for him, she wants a Ken Doll who makes her feel secure…
“You don’t have to say anything else,” Arie says shocked and sad. He kisses her and walks away, but she follows him. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Thank you for sparing me the embarrassment tomorrow,” he says with a tinge of sarcasm. He gets into the Car of No Return…(and five minutes later, the producers call him to be the next “Bachelor.”)
The next morning Emily writes in her journal, thanking the Reality TV Dating Gods that she’s finally found a man who makes da money, has great style, won’t go bald for a long time, has a compound of cult-like siblings on a huge ranch, and the best: imaginary mom-and-dad in-laws who she won’t have to see too often.
Dressed in a bling’d out blushing pink gown, Emily smiles as she sees Jef walks up to her, wearing a suit from the movie “Reservoir Dogs.” She says he’s her soul mate, and he says he feels like the luckiest man. He promises she’ll never feel lonely again and getting on one knee, proposes to her. After several long, uncomfortable seconds, she finally says “Yes!” and Peter Cetera’s “Karate Kid” song comes on…we begin to miss Mr. Miyagi and try to grab flies with chopsticks in his honor….
Before the song ends, Ricki runs up to the newly engaged couple and the three of them walk together in slo-mo. As we see them walking towards the cameras, we curse the stylist who thought it kosher to give Ricki high-heeled wedges to wear.
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