The Bachelor Australia (Season 5) – Episode 5: Kissed, Pissed and Fist

After so little screen time last week, it is pleasing to see Osher is back, albeit that he makes his appearance off-peak (or at least that’s how it works for electricity).

The girls are all in their jimmy jam jams and ready for bed when Osher breezes in and produces a date card from his pocket and a bottle of Johnny Walker from his…posterior Johnny Walker bottle holder?

The girls are all speculating about the possibility of a group date.  Sian, who hasn’t opened her mouth since the red carpet arrivals, has chosen this moment to start voicing her opinions, and she does so with the eloquence of a chain smoker with a thousand riding on the winner of the fifth at the Dapto dogs:

“If I miss out on a date, I’m going to be pretty devo,” she moans.

Time to break out the flower pot headwear, Sian, because it’s a single date and a similarly interpreted corny line about “Dutch courage” means that this date has Florence firmly in its sights, even though I thought Heinekken was the national nip of the Netherlands, not Scotch.

Soon Florence is meeting Matty for their date at Olympic Park in Sydney. Oh, how this brings me back to those wonderful days of volunteering at the Sydney Olympics. How wonderful, I think, that Matty is bringing Florence out here to sit on a tennis umpire chair and shout out directions to the Maroubra bus?

Silly me.  Florence meets Matty atop the Novotel Hotel, twenty-five floors up. Last year, Georgia took Matty on a zip-line across to Sentosa Island in Singapore.  The sensation of having his testicles rammed into his throat by a safety harness has resonated with him, and he is replicating the experience on this date.

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Did we really need this shot, Channel 10?

Florence, who hails from a country that is so flat it uses dykes to keep the sea in the ocean, is clearly terrified by the thought of being propelled off the side of a high-rise. Matty wonders if this task might be too much, too soon.

Ya think?

“It’s just like love,” suggests Matty. “You just have to throw yourself into it.”

Florence still looks like she has seen the work experience badge on the harness dude, and has been in a previous love situation where the harness has failed and she has face-planted into the concrete at the bottom of the Novotel Amsterdam.

Anyhow, we all know how this ends.  They jump off, they slow-mo to the ground and love starts to blossom.  Despite that, they are both in need of a change of trousers and that done, Matty has taken Florence to some backyard plaster-casting joint for a bit of fisting.

They join hands to make one giant fist and plunge it into a bucket of plaster-of-Paris; one too small it seems, as they spend the next half hour trying to extricate their hands from the receptacle.

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Why fisting on a first date is never a good idea

That sure does work up a thirst, so off they go to the usual conveniently placed lounge for another glass of wine (maybe champagne gives Matty gas?).  Matty asks Florence why she moved to Australia.  She says she wanted to immerse herself in another culture.

“How would you feel about settling here, knowing your mother and brother are so far away?” asks Matty.

“No wucking forries,” replies Florence (paraphrased).

Culture immersed. Kiss. Rose.

Back at the house, the girls are waiting for Florence’s return.  Florence is as cool as the North Sea and is more than happy to share her evening:

“We leapt.  We kissed.  We fist.  And here is the fist!” as she triumphantly displays both the rose and the love trophy.

Next morning arrives and “as usual” Jen is baking brownies while the rest of the girls are playing Mahjong…

Take two.  Jen is “baking brownies” while the rest of the girls are pushing white tiles around a table and wondering what the funny pictures on them are. In their defence (and there’s a phrase you won’t hear from me often in relation to The Bachelor), I play Mahjong the same way.

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Weirdest Lego eva…

Osher arrives with a double-date card (the one where two go out, but only one comes home), and because it’s too early in the season to pit Leah and Jen against one another, Jen is off to contend with Liz, she of the putrid dress saga.  Well, Osher gives them no time to change, so they are both off on the date in putrid outfits – stupid little playsuits that are made for store mannequins and not the practicalities of sitting down and standing up again without picking fabric out of one’s fanny.

The driver takes the girls to some old and remote house where Matty has set up a room with no electricity, no food and no daybeds.  It’s like he has channelled his inner Petruchio and has set himself up for a little shrew taming.  Either that or he has a barrel of acid out the back into which the loser will be deposited head first (Side note:  For your binge watching pleasure check out Ozark on Netflix).

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In round one, Matty decides to start the date by quizzing the girls about each other, in front of one other.

Matty:  What are the best and worst qualities of {the other girl}?

Liz:  The best thing about Jen is her dirty sense of humour and the worst thing is she is quick to judge.

Jen:  The best thing about Liz is her witty sense of humour and the worst thing is she says what she thinks.

So let’s call round one a draw .

Then Matty takes Jen away for a deep and meaningful.

“I’m more than flirty,” spills Jen.  “I like, really want to be a mother and like, I look at my brother and his wife and their 18-month and I so don’t want to be left behind.”

That’s not love, Jen. That’s research.

It’s Liz’s turn.

“Do you want a family?” asks Matty.

Crickets.

“Um..ah..um…I think love is like a bank…” blithers Liz.

“I’ve not thought of it like that before, but that makes cents,” replies Matty.

Hahahahahahha!  You’re so funny, Matty!

Oh.  That wasn’t a pun? Don’t worry, Matty didn’t get it either.

Needless to say, Liz goes home.

“I just don’t feel a spark,” says Matty.

“No worries,” says Liz, who is more concerned about waddling off to find a discreet place to pull her playsuit out of her vagina.

Meanwhile, Jen has been gorging herself on grapes and brie.  Matty returns, and clearly on the urging of the producers in his ear, he offers her a rose.  She accepts eagerly with a peck on the cheek.

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No kissing.  No fisting. No hope.

Not that Jen lets that on to the girls, who stirs them up more than egg white for a pav. Even Leah casts a dirty eye.

In the blink of that dirty eye, it’s cocktail time and Sian is pissed and pissed off.

“I’ve had enough of all this not trying to talk to Matty.  I’m going to wait for him to talk to me,” she proclaims, as if she still thinks she has a chance, like any brunette with a nose ring and a skull tattoo on their shoulder blade was ever going to make final four.

Needless to say, when Matty takes Laura to the Secret Garden, and she comes back with a rose, the little marsupial spinning the wheel in Sian’s brain keels over and dies.  She storms off to a bathroom for the first meltdown of the season.

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Walk out like an Egyptian…

“I hate him.  I have nothing in common with him.  I’m going,”

Do you remember all those times that your mother told you to wear fresh undies lest you ever be hit by a bus? There should be a similar rule for TV producers.  In case they are ever caught on camera, there should be a ban on unwashed hair, daggy jackets and leopard skin leggings.

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The producers manage to coax her down to talk to Matty.

“I’m leaving,” she says.

Matty seems relieved,

“But that would be a waste, I’m staying.”

Blah…blah.

Come rose ceremony, three of them already have roses. Thirteen don’t.

“Tara.  Will you accept this rose?”

“Sharlene.”

“Le…ah.”

It’s like the mere mention of Leah’s name has induced nausea.  He waivers…

Sian’s eyes are so red that it looks like a producer has calmed her down with a joint.

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“E…lor..a”

He pales.  The weight of the next rose in his fist is too much…

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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