As the airport taxi van pulls out of their driveway, Lorelai and Rory stand breathlessly looking at their overly large house, utterly exhausted from their two month backpacking tour of Europe. They're both loaded down like British soldiers in the Falklands War. They pause for a minute to catch their breath, both are extremely jetlagged and feeling a bit nauseous for some unknown reason.
Lorelai is a 34-year-old MILF (mom I'd like to fuck), not a total MILF mind you, but a MILF nonetheless, she's tall, auburn haired, slender, and is constantly in snark mode. Every other word out of her mouth is dripping with sarcasm or topped with a cultural reference. She is a single mom to Rory and has recently lost her job as the executive director of a local inn.
Rory is her 18-year-old daughter, she's a head shorter than Lorelai, skinny, and rather plain Jane homey looking. She's soft spoken, subdued, and while not constantly in snark mode like her mother, can still lay it on when the situation calls for it, in addition to supplying the appropriate cultural reference. Her role with her mother is the inverse of what you'd expect, with her being the responsible, studious one and Lorelai being the wild one who needs reigning in. She identifies herself as a "Latina" despite being whiter than a Coldplay concert. She is starting college in a week, majoring in journalism at nearby Yale University.
"Ugh, I feel so bloated and disgusting…" Lorelai utters.
"Me too. Perhaps we shouldn't have had that last plate of meatballs in Rome…" Rory chimes in.
"Or that last pile of fish and chips in London…." Lorelai adds.
"Or that Döner sandwich in Bremen…." Rory points out.
"Ugh, don't remind me. Let's get to bed and unpack in the morning," Lorelai concludes.
They both start marching towards their house, lugging burdensome backpacks and rolling heavy suitcases.
They're almost to their door when they're neighbor, Babette, comes running out of her house.
"You're back! You've come back!" she yells in her raspy voice.
Babette is a short, stout middle-aged woman with platinum blonde hair, which glimmers in the moonlight as she waddles over to her beloved neighbors.
"I thought you'd never come back! Are you okay? Were you abducted by Hitlers? Or Gypsies?" Babette explains, still shouting even though they are right there.
"Nah, just pickpocketed by them in Athens…" Rory casually says.
"Ah you shoulda seen me; I was calling all the consulates in Europe looking for yous two!" Babette screeches in her indefinable accent.
"Why? We told you when we were coming back!" Lorelai questions.
"You said Wednesday, it's Thursday missy!" Babette scolds her.
"Oh right, we forgot to take into account that time darn time difference," Rory remembers, snapping her fingers.
"Well, anyway, how was your trip? Did you meet any of those fine European men with neat mustaches who trail after you, carrying your luggage, hailing taxi cabs, and constantly reminding you how beautiful you are?" Babette eagerly asks.
"Oh boy did we…." Rory mutters, rolling her eyes.
"They were kinda boring, some of them were more effeminate than us," Lorelai explains.
"We did, however, meet some nice Middle Eastern guys though…." Rory starts.
"Let's just say they made up for it, and they were in every country we went to! In excess! Well, except for the Vatican. Who knew Europeans were the worst thing about Europe?" Lorelai rhetorically questions aloud.
Rory has a smug smile on her face at the moment and Babette notices it, immediately becoming suspicious.
"Oh Middle Eastern guys! Give me the details, did they have manly hairy chests and dreamy soft beards?" Babette excitedly asks.
Lorelai, suddenly remembering what happened that night in Magdeburg and then what happened again that night in Paris, flushes bright red at the memory and changes the subject. Rory turns a similar color, blushing at the mere thought of the experience.
"Well, uh we're both very tired; we'll tell you about it some other time, goodnight Babette!" Lorelai hurriedly finishes before grabbing Rory by the arm and dragging her inside the house. Babette looks miffed as she is left in the dust.
Once inside, Lorelai and Rory throw their packs down in the living room in a big sloppy pile.
"Ugh, I feel so bloated; it feels like I ate a football!" Rory groans.
"I feel more bloated than when I was pregnant with you, man we really overdid it with the food…..oh well, you only live once!" Lorelai chirps, happy that she and Rory fulfilled their lifelong promise to each other to backpack across Europe together once she graduated high school.
"Yeah, we did eat a lot, surprised we only gained a few pounds…" Rory ponders, having a sneaking suspicion that jetlag and overeating doesn't quite explain how they're feeling.
"Must be those stubborn Gilmore genes!" Lorelai jokes, though she has a hunch too that there may be some other explanation for how they feel.
They both stop their unpacking and stare at each other for a solid ten seconds in a tight stare down, trying to read each other's thoughts, when suddenly they vomit all over each other. Coughing and gagging, Rory is the first one to talk.
"Aw man, that's the last time I eat Sauer Kraut on an empty stomach!" She manages.
"I think I coughed up a lung…and Al Gore's Florida votes!" Lorelai struggles to utter.
Slowly, solemnly, they both wipe themselves off with paper towels as they make their way to separate bathrooms in the house, Rory going to the downstairs one, Lorelai trudging upstairs.
They lock themselves in the bathrooms and water is heard running, a few minutes pass, all seems returning to normal.
Suddenly the doors of both bathrooms burst open nearly breaking them off their hinges. Mother and daughter fly out of the rooms in a panic, making their way towards the living room. They run into each other's arms there and simultaneously scream, "I'M PREGNANT!"
Commercial break! Naw, I'm just kidding.