So, as you’re sucking the tongue soil off your favourite cephalopod like Scotty, or wishing you lived in Canada so you could get into a struggle cuddle with a hot grizzly, spare a thought for Luke who is probably still in bed crying over their success of last night.
Don’t get me wrong – he seems like a lovely man, despite the fact that if I met him he’d be more likely to shunt my fat ass on a treadmill than cook me a lovely breakfast in bed. And he seems to have a very nice relationship with Scott. Seldom have I seen two men comfortable enough with one another to have their arms touching as they share the centre console in the car.
Or be in a Coles commercial together holding a giant cucumber.
Anyhoo, this recap is a short one for reasons that may or may not relate to Rico’s thirst for Valentine’s Day satisfaction.
Let me be clear: these boys aren’t perfect. Scott is bald – whether of his own volition or because God has forsaken him, is unclear, but he has kind eyes and looks like he would enjoy dabbing a damp cloth across the forehead of a childbirthing woman. Luke has womanly thighs – oh yes he’s toned and taned and has a head like the cosmetically corrected Owen Wilson, but his thighs press together in a rather Chrissie Swanish way and as he and Scott did the Personal Trainer gallop along Bondi, I thought I noticed the teeniest, tiniest pre-paunch enjoying a rest on his washboard. He also looks like a nice guy – and not in the I’ll-smile-to-your-face-but-then-swallow-your-kittens-for-breakfast way of Jenna and Joanna.
Actually, on the girls, Rico and I are currently not – how shall I put it? – on the same page. When The Pink One squeezed out a few tears prior to the arrival of dessert, I turned to him to make reference to her bodily fluids’ inability to make a dent in her blusher, only to notice him grinning with something approaching affection. This isn’t the first time he’s been lead astray – he became unnaturally attracted to Poh in Season 1 of Masterchef – but I’m confident he will come around without too many threats to his private portions.
But back to the boys. They cook… well. It’s all healthy (with the exception of the creamy dessert sauce). But according to pretty much everyone except our all-singing, all-dancing mother and daughter duo, there isn’t a floater to be seen, let alone tasted. Our aging Beauty Queens manage to tweezer out a couple of issues: Candice isn’t happy when Luke gets a bit excited with the delivery of the entree and gives her dress a spray, and Lisa is left cold by an uncoordinated lemon wedge and a dessert slice that she says she could ‘do herself’.
‘Well why didn’t you at your instant restaurant?’ snarks chunky Dan. It is at this point that I realise that I rather like him, despite the fact that he looks like a pre-fitness version of that weeping wanker Adro from The Biggest Loser.
But despite looking increasingly like she has a lemon-flavoured dick in her mouth at the arrival of each course, Lisa and Candice pack away their bitch biros and score them appropriately.
Is this a sign of the goodness within? Or is it the calm before the Great Valentine’s Day Penetration that Rico thinks is being lubed up for Dan and Steph’s pleasure tomorrow night…