Monday, October 12, 2015

The Bachelorette Australia Episode Recap: Season 1, Episode Six

First off I would like to apologise for the quality of the images in this recap. Not only because several of them contain Osher Gunsberg, but because they are generally pixelated and crap.

For this, I choose to blame the god of the internet.

He's a crafty bugger.

Anyway here we are in episode six with our final six bachelors (isn't that nice and neat, how that worked out?), and naturally the three I picked in episode one are still hanging on: Sasha the bloke with a girl's name who owns several cars, Richie the bloke who does something with ropes and Alex, the bloke who Sam would pick if she had any sense.

"Final six, wow," says one.

"The top six," says another.

"Six six six!" shouts one, and is swiftly removed from the premises for invoking Satan.

"To get into the top six means nothing to me," says Michael, which is coincidentally the same thing he cried into his beer when the Socceroos rejected him.

Just in case you hadn't got the memo that there are only six men left, Osher Gunsberg bursts into the room screaming "THERE ARE LESS THAN HALF OF YOU THAT STARTED THIS JOURNEY!"

"There's only three of you left! Hang on... That's not right. Can someone get my calculator?"


"It's FEWER."

"It's weird, it seems like there's someone missing, all the time," says Sasha, who obviously hasn't yet realised that one bloke has been leaving the house every week for the past six weeks.

"I thought they'd all just been going to the shops?"

Just then Osher remembers he left his vegan soy yoghurt in the boot of his Prius, so chucks the latest date card at Michael and runs out the door.

"The clue is 'young at heart'," reads Michael.

"DAVEY!" yells everyone, for no apparent reason.

I sincerely hope they are right, and today's date will have a "Davey" theme.

"Wait, have this one too, I can't be arsed coming back later," says Osher, who has just run back into the room brandishing the group date card.

"Seriously, I get paid per episode anyway so like, what's the point, you know?" he asks, as he jogs off down the hallway.

"The clue is 'all's fair in love and war'," Davey reads from the card.

"PAINTBALL!" shouts Michael because sure, that makes sense.


As it turns out they're all going to the circus for "some good old fashioned fairground games", which has about as much to do with love and/or war as paintball so sorry, Michael, I take it back.

So all the blokes except single date recipient Richie pile into some advertisements and head off to the circus meet Sam and Osher, who is trying out ASOS for men's controversial new "Jerry Garcia in a nursing home" look:

Sam isn't convinced.

It's still better than Davey and that fucking hat, though:

I sincerely hope some company is paying him to keep wearing this thing.

Osher explains that the blokes will have to undergo a series of circus challenges to win some alone time with Sam, or a Dagwood dog or something (I don't know, I wasn't really listening), the first being a competition to see who can do the best impression of the clown mural on the wall behind them.

It's going to be hard to beat Osher, to be honest.

"I WILL CRAWL OVER YOUR DEAD BODIES TO WIN THIS," says Alex, who clearly really, really likes Dagwood dogs.

The first challenge is the strength tester machine, aka the stupid thing that dings when you hit it with a hammer.

Which is also a pretty accurate description of Davey's head.

Everyone manages to hit the jackpot and ring the bell except for Michael the Almost-eroo, who is some sort of big girl's blouse who can't even swing a giant hammer and so is immediately eliminated and made to go bake scones back at the house in a pink tutu like he deserves.

Round two is a Guinness World Record attempt for "Lamest Tug of War Ever" which is instantly granted for being over in literally half a second.

Realising they are going to be short at least two minutes of footage, the producers get into a huddle and decide to pit Alex and Dave against each other on the laughing clowns sideshow.

Sadly, no one on set appears to have ever played the laughing clowns before.

Seriously, WTF is going on here?

Somehow Dave manages to get his ball into a mouth (what?) so Alex is sent back home to do the vacuuming or some embroidery or something, and we move on to the next challenge: punting a footy into a hole.

"I'm feeling quite confused about Davey, when he's with the boys he's one person and when he's with me he's a completely different person," says Sam, as Davey drop punts the footy and shouts "CAAAARN C**TS!" while high fiving everyone with his pants around his ankles.


There's no way they're beating Osher with that effort.

As Sasha is eliminated, leaving only Dave and Davey, it occurs to Sam that choosing a man based on sideshow skills was perhaps not the most effective strategy.

This is reinforced when Dave - the man who speaks exclusively in vowels and for whom a career highlight was inventing Shark Island - wins the final challenge (don't worry about what it was, your life is richer and more rewarding for not knowing, trust me).

The two go inside the big top to enjoy their prize: a romantic picnic in the middle of the circus ring, which I think we can all safely assume smells of camel wee.


They sit down, pour some wine, open up their Little Big Book Of Mandatory Bachelorette Conversation Topics and start reading things out to each other like "I'm looking for a genuine guy" and "I'm 100 per cent here for you" and "Is it the wine that smells like wee or the tent?".

Realising he's unlikely to get a pash unless he can get a little closer, Dave attempts the risky and rarely successfully executed "Can I Give You A Hug?" manoeuvre, last demonstrated by Tony the airline steward on last week's Booze Boat date.

And we all remember how that went.

Dave goes for the hug.

Dave gets a hug.

Dave gets a faceful of hair.

Dave does not get a pash.

Doobly doo music, wavy lines etc and we're back at Sam's bachelorette pad, where she's explaining the rules of the day to Richie.

"I'm a little bit quirky," she says, in the way that girls who wear ironic video game T shirts and eat their pizzas crust-first do.

"I like to think outside the box and I think you might be like that too."

"For sure, I think about your box all the time!"

"For today's date, I want to find out what life would be like 50 years down the track with you," Sam says.

"So today we're just going to sit on the couch and not talk to each other while feeling vague resentment every time the other person moves, and occasionally wondering how life would have turned out if we'd ended up with that hot tour guide from Brazil!"

No, actually, in a shocking turn of events the producers have spent some money for once and hired professional make-up artists to transform Sam and Richie into 80-year-olds, which is ironic because I feel like I too have aged 50 years watching this boring episode.

After four hours in hair and make-up, Richie ends up looking like the disturbing love child of Monty Burns and Uncle Arthur:

Don't ask where that cane has been.

While Sam looks like ET's mum:

"Phone home! No really, please do call love, I haven't heard from you in so long."

Of course this experiment ignores the fact that in the year 2065, Sam and Richie are actually more likely to look like this:

Now THIS would have been a good date.

Sam and Richie rock up to a bowls club to see if they can blend in but sadly their acting isn't as convincing as their make-up, restricted as it is to wobbling around on walking sticks and using words like "fandangled" and "brolly", so the reaction they get from the locals is less than enthusiastic.

"No one says 'brolly' anymore, you daft pricks."

"They let them in here with THOSE shoes?"

They sit down to a game of bingo, and possibly a few tabs of acid, as Sam breaks into a pig impression when the caller announces "22 - two little ducks" and then melts into uncontrollable hysterics when Richie mentions milk.


Sensing his time in the spotlight is drawing to a close, Richie hits the dancefloor in a last desperate attempt to hang on to fame, with a spontaneous audition for upcoming Adam Sandler movie "Ghetto Grandpa":

This also doubles as a new ad campaign for Metamucil.

Meanwhile, watching at home:


But no one can stay old forever, so eventually Sam and Richie both die and the episode ends.

No, actually they just take off their make-up and go and sit in a room filled with so many candles the producers have had to manually disable the fire sprinklers, and they talk more about themselves and how they have "so much in common" because their parents are divorced, and they both have arms and legs and breathe oxygen.

"My mum is the greatest, she rules the family with an iron fist but she's also got a heart of gold," says Richie.

Richie's mum.

Just when you think this date couldn't get any less exciting, Sam flips a switch and up on the big screen pops a home movie of Richie's mum and sister talking about how great he is, interspersed with baby photos.

"Oh, I was hoping for Transformers."

It's incredibly long and boring and unforgivably devoid of explosions, but Sam seems happy enough ("Honest performances, pity about the camerawork - three stars!") so she gives him a rose.

"Thanks very mu..." says Richie, but loses his words half way through when Sam launches herself onto his face and eats them.

She's learning.

Of course that means:

Keep crying, Blakey boy.

"I'm a bit smitten," announces Sam, blushing.

Shut this thing down, Richie's got the win in the bag.

Sorry, who is this again?

And with that we move on to the cocktail party, which is less of a "party" and more of a "six blokes sitting around in suits staring at each other convention".

"My incredible date with Richie has really put things into perspective and made me evaluate what I want from a relationship," Sam says.

Nek minit:

"Davey, do you mind coming outside for a chat?"

Ruh roh.

Of course the poor, beautiful fool has no idea he's about to be slaughtered, and bounces out the door to his certain death, his tail wagging happily.

We know, though, because the producers have added a soundtrack of urgent drums that make it sound like Sam and Davey are on the run from Mexican drug lords, or corrupt cops, or perhaps both. In the jungle. At night. With ravenous lions stalking them all.

"Yeah I um... yeah I've been... yeah wanting to chat to you..." begins Sam, at which point any sane individual would have grabbed their hat and coat and bid her a friendly adieu, but Davey isn't a sane individual, so he sits and waits for her to continue.

"Oh my god, she's going to tell me she's in love with me, isn't she?"

Because she apparently can't just say "listen mate, I'm not really feeling this, I reckon it's better if we go our separate ways", Sam launches into a big speech about Davey's "sensitive side" and whether it's all "an act", and if he's a "ladies' man" and if he's "pulling the wool over her eyes" and BLAH BLAH BLAH.

Sam, you doth protest too much. We all know why you want to ditch Davey.

Oh, and there are some other guys still there too, I think.

But the charade continues, mostly because the producers still have five minutes to make up from the failed tug of war at the circus challenge, and are standing out of shot silently mouthing "STRETCH" at Sam.

"I've dated guys like you before and I know how it ends," she stammers.

"Er... it always ends the same way. Er... I'm confused," she burbles, while Davey looks off screen, trying to get a clue about what is happening.

"What is it about me that you feel like you want to be in it so badly?" asks Sam.

"That sentence was really poorly worded."

"Every part of me wants to be here," says Davey.

"You're right, there is way too much innuendo in this scene to be accidental."

Sam stares at Davey.

Davey stares at Sam.

It is not comfortable.

Honestly, the only way these two are ever going to kiss is if they're captured by terrorists and wired up to a bomb in such a manner that the only way to disarm it is for them to touch their lips together. And even then I reckon they'd weigh up the number of casualties to see if it was worth it.

Next thing you know we're back at the party with Osher Gunsberg, who looks like he's just been told they've run out of soy milk and his yoga class has been cancelled.

"Sam's made the difficult decision to let Davey go, and he's already left the mansion," he says.

"There will be no rose ceremony tonight."

Translation: We spent all of this week's budget on that make-up, and couldn't afford roses.

Well that's it for this time (no really, Davey just buggered off and didn't say anything else!) (we didn't even see him in the limo of doom!) (maybe he evaporated?) so now it's time to READ EPISODE SEVEN.

Or go back and READ EPISODE FIVE again.

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