It’s straight into the group date and Osher is very excited. His face is so animated that it can only mean one thing – he has planned something INAUGURAL.
On cue, the Honey Badger appears over the hill on a segway.
“Welcome to the Inaugural Bachelor Segway Relay!” beams Osher.
Oh god. Shoot me now.
Essentially this is a quiz where Osher asks the girls questions to see how well they know Nick, but he couldn’t think of enough questions and had to pad it out with a segway race through the bush. In the history of Osher’s contrivances, this one has to be in the top three.
It is also quite irresponsible. The girls are given no segway training and are forced to wear ugly pyjamas and the only one they appear to fit is Brooke.
Osher appoints two captains and they get to pick and Shannon is picked last and she is a little bit miffed, because apparently she was the world under 6 segway champion or something.
Soon they’re off and racing and Cass soon establishes a commanding lead and is asked the first question:
“On a date who should pay: the man, the woman, or whoever instigated the date?”
Cassie is stumped. I mean she has every aspect of Nick’s life scrutinised, and the walls of her room are covered in her hastily scrawled study notes (so much to learn), and she knows the answer to this is on the skirting board just next to the door of the ensuite, but she just hasn’t had as much time to study this week because she got that single date.
“The man,” she says with confidence.
She is wrong and incurs a one-minute penalty.
Somewhere along the line Osher has introduced a rule where if someone gets too tired from thinking about the answers they can sub Nick in for their lap.
Turns out that Nick is terribly slow on the segway, probably because at 100 kilograms he weighs as much as four Brookes.
“He’s like a turtle,” giggles Brittany. “A Ninja turtle without the ninja. He’s just a little turtle.”
Then Brittany takes off like a bat out of hell and face plants in the dirt.
Two words. Tortoise. Hare. Karma.
Alright, that was three words, but that last one is a BITCH.
This means Brook’s blue team wins and impressed with her ability to stay upright, Nick invites Brooke for some one-on-one time.
And all the girls are really happy for her.
The next day it’s Emily’s long-awaited single date. Nick appears to have thought this one through. Knowing that she is a dance teacher, he has taken her to the Sydney Opera house to watch, then rehearse and perform. Still, he is apprehensive. It’s been a long time between dates.
“This one sould start in the penthouse and end in the shithouse.”
Have I mentioned yet how much I love this bachelor?
They meet Kev and Robyn from the ballet who perform a scene from the upcoming ballet Spartacus. At least they allege it is a scene from Spartcacus, but I am doubtful. No one is jumping up shouting “I am Spartacus” and there is not a leather toga in sight (unless that is too gay even for the Australian Ballet).
Then it is Nick and Emily’s turn to dance and they are presented with the appropriate attire. Clearly Tradie’s Undies have not extended their range to dance garb, and Nick is struggling with the jock strap.
“It’s not real comfortable down the business end,” he complains, tugging at his crotch, “and it’s worked its way right up my chocolate cracker.
Kev is way too excited about this and takes it upons himself to tutor Nick himself.
While all of this is going on, the girls are back at the house engaging in their new favourite sport – bitching about Brooke. They are very miffed that she is getting so much alone time with Nick.
Well, girls. How about you just run off to your Amalgamated Instagram and Reality Hopefuls union rep and demand that all the dates be distributed equally and that you will stop drinking champagne in sparkly frocks unless you get increased rations of avocado and Kombucha.
The girls seem to have forgotten that the whole premise of the show is that Nick is trying find a future wife, and by necessity that means spending time with the ones he likes most. Duh. Nick’s probably like me – likes some of these girls in really short instalments.
Back at the Opera House the dancing has stopped, and so has the spark. It could just be that after six weeks, Nick has run out of things to say and has to resort to asking a girl about her hair curling regime, but he seems just as bored as we are.
And that’s a good thing because all of a sudden it’s cocktail party time.
Osher arrives and the one time that the girls are never happy to see Osher is at the cocktail party, even when he has a date card. This one has no-one’s name written on it, but at the end of the night Nick will give it to someone.
Ugggggggggg. This can only mean two things: over-the-top, giggly, try-hard conversations and gimmicks.
And just like that, Sophie drags Nick off to the whiteboard room where she draws a stick figure with two caterpillars for arms and fire where its arse should be and tells Nick it’s a visual representation of how she feels. (Light your farts on me, you double slugger?)
Anyway, it works and Nick gives Sophie the date card.
And little Shannon’s world comes crashing down around her. She tries to do a Tennille, but she’s not even very good at that and she is soon back for the rose ceremony, a puffy-eyed, forlorn-looking wreck.
She doesn’t need Osher’s maths, but he offers it regardless:
“Ladies, there six of you remaining, but there are only five roses. Brooke, you have a rose. You are safe. Here’s Nick.”
Sophie. Well it’s not like he’s going to give her a date card and not a rose.
Nick pauses. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat.
Emily. Wow. I thought she was gone. Shannon starts swaying like she’s going to faint. One rose left. Two girls.
There is silence. You could cut the tension with one of those samurai swords the producers sourced for Jamie-Lee’s Japanese fiasco.
“Dasha,” Nick finally manages to say. “Will you accept this rose?”
And Shannon just stands there, swaying and weeping. She makes it through the goodbyes and out to the courtyard, where she has just enough energy to spit out her feelings.
“I was hanging on to shit, man. You should have given me another date. We could have been a great couple.”
Meanwhile, inside Dasha has fallen in a heap. Literally.
Nick manages to shove Shannon into the back of the Uber where she continues to howl. There goes her five-star rating.
“I just hope that somewhere, someday, there’s a man for me…” she wails.
I’m sure there is Shannon. In fact, I know there is…