Man, we are straight mowing through Sam’s potential suitors this season, aren’t we? It’s like she knocked down 9 in the first half of the frame, and now she’s looking to pick up the spare.
Bowling-related Dad jokes aside, we’re into Episode 5 now, and already we’ve pared 6 from the bunch, leaving 8 thirsty blokes left to lap at the arid trough of Dude Manor, hoping the Queen Bee will bless them with a life-sustaining solo date.
But they shall go wanting, this episode!
Things kick off with Osher arriving in a shirt that is just straight-up wearing him.
It’s the kind of getup you’d wear in that awkward post-Jenny Craig extreme weight-loss/pre-being able to afford new clothes that fit better period. Can’t fault him for comfort though, as this whole series is a mere exercise in Andrew G being the most chill dude alive.
He can swan about in stately manors and wear all the cardigans he wants to, but we all (probably just me) still remember when he had long hair, pithed about backstage at the Big Day Out interviewing Alien Ant Farm, and played double bass for the Resin Dogs.
NEVER FORGET.
As always, Osher comes bearing gifts – this time in the form of a dreaded DOUBLE DATE. Two men enter. Only one leaves.
Well, they both leave. It’s just… y’know… one comes back to the manor, the other sods off in a limo and gets to do interviews on The Project and such.
The point is, possible Juggalo Tony and Davey the complainer are picked for this oddly competitive time – more competitive than usual – and they rush to put their tuxes on; Davey in black. Tony in white, like it’s a live action adaptation of Spy vs Spy all of a sudden.
Davey, who’s never had a passive aggressive thought he didn’t verbalise, quips “PS, black looks better.” And for a change, he’s right. That white tux looks like a block of bloody Top Deck.
Mmm. Delicious fashion.
There’s only one rose on the boat, and Sam’s making them fight for it. I assume her original idea of tossing it, them, a single knife, and a net down into the galley and seeing who emerges bloodied and victorious was rejected by some idiot, so instead they’re gambling their time on a game of roulette.
Davey immediately starts trying to trash talk Tony all throughout the game, because lord knows that the only thing women want is an insecure bloke who can roast his mates. If this were a verbal zinger competition, Davey would probably still lose, as all his bombs revolve around a common theme of “lol u old lol.”
To make it *way* more interesting, Sam makes a bet for her time – Tony is black, Davey is red. A fact which Davey doesn’t complain about, accidentally revealing the fact that he’s never seen the Wesley Snipes classic Passenger 57.
Tony and Sam go off for a little private tête-à-tête, which is as short lived as anything you’re ever likely to see, because jealous Davey literally can’t handle it and finds himself unable to resist barging in. Meanwhile, somewhere, David the International Model is smiling broadly.
Tony is, pretty bloody understandably, pissed-the-fuck-off about this. But as Davey explains in a talking head, “I want Sam’s love. I have to do everything in my power to get it.“
Meanwhile, somewhere:
“Good. Good. Let the hate flow through you.”
To placate the sooky baby, Sam takes Davey off for a little private chat – during which Davey has pledged this time to show his more sensitive side, which brings the total amount of sides he’s tried to show in the series thus far to about 78.
Sam’s had issues with larrikin-types running for the hills when things get serious before, and Davey assures her that – whilst he’s done that in the past – he’s willing to not do that this time. You heard it here first, ladies. Commitment-phobia is merely a light switch in every blokes brain that can just be switched off whenever. The greatest secret of the male gender finally revealed.
It’s fine and all. Davey does a nice little speech about being hurt in the past, and you can understand that. But the problem is every time he looks at her he looks like a star-struck 5 year-old waiting to get an autograph off his third favourite footy player.
“Gee! Thanks Mister! I sure will stay in school!”
Tony barges in pulling a little turnabout is fair play, carrying drinks for everyone and missing a golden opportunity to really fight dirty. I mean, it’s all got to be gentlemanly and whatnot and you’ve got to present your best you. But if Davey pulled that interrupting cow nonsense on me? I would’ve poisoned the shit out of his cocktail.
We’re all on a boat. Way out at sea. No one would ever know…
Both Davey and Tony agree that the happiest you could ever be is when you’re in love and in a relationship. And, like… I dunno, man. I’ve had a well cooked medium scotch fillet and a 16 year-old Lagavulin before and been PRETTY BLOODY STOKED on it.
But tonight, it’s Tony that gets the boot from the boat – going home roseless and leaving the competition. It’s alright, mate. You’ll always have your Juggalo Fam.
Meanwhile Davey celebrates getting a rose by puling the ole’ Cheek Kiss Head Turn ruse.
What better way to celebrate progressing through a Reality TV show than with mild sexual assault.
The second half of the episode is a Group Date with all the remaining mob – Dave the Plumber, Michael the Socceruse, Alex Perry Sans Sunglasses, Sasha the Pasha, Kayne West, and Richie Rich All Grown Up.
Because someone’s clearly pissed off Sam in a severe manner at some unknown point, they’re tasked with handling 30 screaming children at a birthday party. With minimal warning “Talia” and all her friends arrive, and they’ve clearly been pre-gaming the lemonade because they are all already FUCKED UP on sugar.
Each bloke is charged with setting up a station and keeping these tearaway monsters entertained for a little while.
Alex’s Face Painting Emporium sounds like some straight-up peak Fitzroy bullshit where grown-ass adults go to sip sangria made from the cheapest plonk while some dork in a poncho turns their face into a failing grade art school impressionism assignment.
Kayne reveals he’s actually the smartest dude alive, because he literally just finds a comfy chair to sit in whilst children peg cupcakes at him which is GENIUS. Minimal effort. Maximum results.
Dave meanwhile is at a complete loss as to why kids aren’t taking to his Shark Island concept with open arms. Maybe it’s because you are THREATENING TO LITERALLY EAT CHILDREN, M8.
And all this is all well and good, but we need to talk about Richie and Michael here.
Richie, unquestionably, is the MVP of this group date. It’s not even close. He inhales enough helium to send him to the moon. He runs a freaking marathon chasing after these kids and keeping them entertained. He takes several clear bubble shots to the eye and barely even blinks. Richie slogs his guts out all damned day doing exactly what the task demanded of him…
…and yet it’s Michael who lobs up with some pithy, poorly constructed story (that had ENORMOUS second act issues, I’ll add) and somehow gets the alone time with Sam at the end of it.
I’ll cop a lot of things, but I will not stand for this, Samantha. I will not.
HE RAN HIMSELF SICK FOR YOU, SAM. IS THAT NOT IMPRESSIVE? DOES EGGY BUBBLE MEAN NOTHING TO YOU? IT’S THIRTY CHILDREN. AND HE HANDLED THEM ALL. THAT IS NOT A FUCKING WALK IN THE PARK.
‘Course then she cooks Michael toasties for dinner and totally redeems herself.
And for dessert, she gives him a rose. Which is a *pretty* good dessert and all, I guess. But have they ever had a Vienetta?
Because them shits is MAD.
Back at Dude Manor, Michael walks in with his rose firmly tucked inside what appears to be a torn hessian sack.
Which causes Davey to whinge AGAIN, this time about how he wanted to gloat about having a rose by himself “for a change.” Honestly, this dude probably bitches on his birthday that he has to share it with every other person on Earth born on the same day.
Regardless, the time comes to cut another from the herd. Sasha plays his hand extremely well, wearing a crushed blue velvet suit – correctly identifying that it is literally impossible to remove anyone from a Reality TV show if they are wearing a crushed blue velvet suit. Fact. Science fact.
The lack of recognition for Richie‘s herculean efforts this episode is truly infuriating, and the fact he wound up in the bottom two is an utter disgrace.
THESE AREN’T JUST PUPPIES YOU CAN RUN RAGGED AND HOPE THEY TIRE OUT, SAM. THEY ARE PEOPLE. WITH FEELINGS. MAN FEELINGS.
Fortunately though, he scores the final rose, leaving Kayne as the one to go tonight. He says nothing to Sam as he leaves, but it’s the fact that he DOESN’T perform an exit rap that is the cruellest twist of them all. Not only for the viewers, but for those of us (and there are many, don’t ever forget it) charged with the task of putting recaps like this together.
Recapping reality TV shows. It is serious business, you guys.
As for moment of the night? Once again it’s Sam & Osher, with the power play to end all power plays.
All hail the King & Queen.
