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The Real World EXplodes in our Face: One Last Time

After twelve enlightening weeks, The Real World departs our beloved city. Here's a recap.

As was foretold twelve long weeks ago by the producers of MTV, The Real World EXplosion is coming to an end.

After nearly half a day of my life spent watching these cast members fall in love, evolve as sentient beings, and eat Subway sandwiches, this is a bittersweet affair. But let's not get too sentimental. As the final scene of the last episode hinted at, we are in for some prolonged, muscular bro-on-bro action not seen since a Sean Cody video. The tears can wait.

The show begins with a quick recap of previous dramas: Tom's ex leaving, Jay and Jenna becoming official and then the real ~dRaMa~: the love triangle between Jenny, Brian and Corey. I'm not sure who is playing which role because they've all been romantically or bromantically involved at this point. But the point is Brian is too domineering of Jenny, and Corey is "sick of holding his tongue."

We are given a brief moment of an introduction that has become quite familiar by this point: An arrow flying through and popping a paint-filled balloon, quick shots of the cast members hitting each other and dubby sounds. That's all we need.

So here we find ourselves, stuck in the present moment, with the crew in a large van on their way home from the club and Corey pummeling Brian.

"Don't do it! Both of you stop!" Jay yells at the testosterone-fueled war machines. Brian lands a kick to Corey's nose and it's broken apart. The producers pull the vans over and separate the guys. Soon we're back in the house and it's clear the majority of the cast members are so over the charade of this show that they just aren't getting involved.

We get a shot of Jenny looking up sleepily from her bed, Arielle quickly pulling some food out of the beeping microwave before scampering off, Tom running off to his bedroom, and Jay calling the producers asking to get de-microphoned so he can get to bed (the cast members on many reality shows aren't allowed to speak without a microphone on so as to capture every moment of drama, obvi). Corey meanwhile is stomping around and beating his chest.

Soon it's everyone in the kitchen snacking really hard and hashing out what's going on. Corey and Jay tell Jenny that she's changed since Brian arrived. Yet again, everyone regrets the exes coming and they seem to mourn the genuine relationships that could have been had they not been thrown into this circus.

"Only three more days, that's what I need to keep telling myself," Corey says.

"I've lost every once of power. I have no power in this house," Jenny laments to the camera.

Neon letters flash. Two more days remain.

It's a bright morning and the suitcases are stacking up in the hallway. It's a pretty chill, sentimental morning, but drama remains. "I'm trying to keep it cool," Corey says, "But Brian needs to learn his lesson." And learn he shall. Brian confronts Corey, but, TWIST, it's with a conversation.

They say that they have demons and they need to confront them, and each one wants to beat the hell out of the other. The rest of the conversation is incomprehensible and full of "bros." One time the word "introspective" is used and Corey has to ask that Brian not use such crazy big words. They shake on "being civil," and it's time for acoustic music and friendship! And San Francisco things!

The O.G's, as they call themselves, grab some brunch and hash out the events we saw over the past few weeks. It's been fun, it's been hard, it's been life-changing. "No regrets, baby, no regrets," Jenny says. Everyone cares about everyone else, and they've totes become a family. A modern family, if you will.

24 hours until move out, "and today, we're going on a BOAT!" Arielle yells. The whole crew is sailing around the Bay and looking at the beautiful sights the waterfront has to offer (for a more in-depth view of our waterfront's offerings, check out the April issue of San Francisco magazine).

Back at the house it's just time to hang out together and continue packing. Clothing racks are emptying, cardboard boxes are filling, and Jenny tells Brian once and for all that she is done with him forever.

But the show's not over! We need one last night at the club.

The neon letters tell us so much, and so does the dubby music. Jenny is Go Go dancing once last time, the crew cheers their shots and we fall down a hole of nostalgia. It's a brief montage, dripping with hugs and smiles and drinks.

Back at the house, one last time, and everyone is super wasted. Brian is slurring his words, wearing an outfit of all camo, and for a brief moment has his arm around Jenny's neck in a choke-hold. Corey tries to talk him down but, much like Miley Cyrus, Brian can't be tamed. He hops and flops around a bed before running into the hallway and quickly falling into a clothing rack. Brian is out of control of himself. He begins pulling on the arms of a bed and shaking it and pulling it across the room. Again, finally, one last time, Arielle talks Brian down. Brian quickly devolves into tears, as does Jenny who is right outside the room, and the producers send Brian to a hotel for his last night.

The drama is quickly resolved and we get an amazing selfie montage to that song, "Let Me Take a Selfie," then we're back to the aftermath of the destruction. Tables turned over, dressers un-drawered, a bed thrown across the room.

Quickly, it's the next day. The last day. "We're all going home now," says Jay, taking upon his role as event-recapper one last time.

"The mass exodus begins, folks," Arielle says, and it's true. Brian goes first and no one cares. Jay and Jenna, the happy couple, leave and everyone howls after them. Hugs on hugs on hugs, y'all. One by one the crew departs. Tom, then Jamie, then Arielle and Ashley (who are just heading back to Oakland so it's kind of nbd—they just walk home), and Jenny and Corey are, of course, the final two. Each one of them is stronger after this experience, they agree. "Adios, San Francisco!" Corey says, and we get a few quick shots of everyone leaving. The camera pans away into a lightly foggy shot of San Francisco, and that's the end.

Twelve weeks of kisses, high kicks, touristy scenes and highly-contrived moments, and that's a season of the Real World. Season 29, EXplosion, it is a bittersweet farewell.

Since there is no "next time," dear reader, just keep it ~rEaL~ 4evr.

 

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