|That picnic basket is SO CLOSE to falling off that cliff.|
Based on the "scenes from the next", the two-part Bach finale is gonna be bonk-buh-bonk-buh-bonk-bonk-biggity-biggity-bonk-bonk-bonkers. It looks as if Des wants to pick Brooks, but he can't commit for some reason, so then Chris writes a shitty poem and Drew bangs a dude and everyone has a meltdown and there's tears everywhere and oh baby it's gonna be amazingggggggngngnggg!
However, the Bach producers have been known to throw a Law & Order-like twist at us from time to time, so really, your guess is as good as mine. Although to be honest, I'm the internet celebrity with the world famous television blog who freelances for not one, but two super-popular Philadelphia sports websites, so my guess is probably better than yours.
So here's what I think ends up happening:
Despite being 100% in love with Brooks, Des comes to the realization that Drew has much better abs, and if she sends Drew home, she will no longer be able to drag her tongue in between his rock hard stomach muscles. Brooks doesn't understand, wondering how a woman could be hung up on something so superficial as a man's body, so Des tries to explain to Brooks how incredible a feeling it is to take your tongue and trace a man's six-pack, licking every nook and cranny of his stomach, smelling his skin, his sweat, feeling his heart rate increase as your hot mouth devours his salty skin. Upon hearing this, Brooks throws up all over his own face. As the vomit drips down his chin, Brooks is at a loss for words, yet Des insists on him explaining what he's feeling. Brooks searches for the right words to say, but can't speak, mumbling, stammering, spittle dribbling off his dumb face. Des pleads with him to say something. "Just talk to me! We can work this out! You can do sit-ups!" But the words are like a tornado for Brooks. His head is spinning. He hears nothing, just the warped-out screaming of a mad woman. Des is yelling at him in broad daylight on the streets of Antigua that all he has to do is seven minutes of crunches every day and their love will continue, but he's embarrassed, and unable to deal with the situation, and confused, and she just keeps on talking and yelling and it just needs to stop, it just needs all to stop!
So he runs.
Boom! Brooks is gone! He turns and jets, just running, just running! to nowhere in particular, he just had to get outta there, had to get outta that situation, the screaming, the cameras, the stress, the boom mics, and now he's free, sprinting down the cobblestone streets of Antigua! His eyes are open for the first time in months. The wind rushes through his hair, the open road in front of him, the sweet salty air in his lungs ... but behind him, Des calls.
"Drewwwwww!!! I mean, Brooookkssssssss!!!" she screams.
He's getting away.
So Des darts after him.
Brooks is in full sprint now, fleeing the scene as fast as he can, with long, oafy strides. His boat shoes kick up pebbles as he runs, the rocks landing on his flabby calves. It was his only option. He just needed to get outta there. But Des is gaining on him. Brooks looks back, she's still there, even closer now. Even closer than before. Soon, Des's footsteps can be heard right on his heels. Brooks is tired. So very tired. Is the altitude different in Antigua? It must be different. Gosh this running stuff is hard. So Brooks stops and turns around. Des jogs up to meet him.
"Geez, you're really fast," says Brooks.
"Meh, you're just really slow," says Des, smiling. "A lot slower than Chris. He's a great athlete. You wouldn't think it by just looking at him, but you gotta see him in action. Like for example, last night in the fantasy suite? He was jumping all over the place. Very agile that guy, very agile. And strong too! He was tossing me around like I was nothing. He did this thing where he would pin me down, and grind his hips into me, thrusting with his legs, like, really using his legs. They say you can generate a lot of power with your legs, and I never really thought much of it, but watching his calves in the mirror, pushing off on the foot board for leverage, it's really something to behold. And the cum. Ohhhh, the cum. Who would've thought that one man could cum that much? Truly sensational. Truly, truly sensational."
At this point, Brooks slowly walks over to a street vendor, gives him $50 -- or whatever the going rate for a gun is in Antigua -- and purchases an old revolver. Then he takes the cold steel of the gun, draggggggggs it over his lips, and lowers it slowwwwwwllllyyyyyyy down his throat, tasting the grainy metal, gagging a bit as the gun is jammed in his mouth, all the while staring deeply at Des. Then, taking one final look into her eyes, he gargles the words, "It's so cold," but his speech is muffled from the gun buried deep in his mouth so Des asks, "What'd you say?" and Brooks repeats, "It's so cold," but she can't understand him. No one could understand him. So Des grabs the gun from his mouth and says, "What were you saying? I can't understand you. You have a gun in your mouth." And Brooks says, "Aw, nevermind, let's just go back to the suite and watch a movie," and Des says, "Actually, I've got my date with Drew now so I'll catch ya lates."
And then she skips off, pointing Brooks's revolver to the sky, shooting bullets into the air, while Brooks is left there with the cold, grainy taste of steel in his mouth, and sadness in his heart.