So last night was the first ‘Sudden Death Cook-off’ of the season, pitting off resident grinner, Sam, and his faithful eunuch against the dorks of the dungeon, Kieron and Nastassia.
Rico, who is always looking for an opportunity to rob me blind, reckons we should have a bet on the outcome. I agree – so long as my money goes on Ginger and The Beast laying ass-waste to the table. Rico, spying the penis in his plan, gives it up as a bad gig and goes back to blowing air into his goon bag.
As per usual, all the other teams are on the balcony enjoying the show. Angela and Melina are rooting for the nerds because – well probably because they could outcook them with a single-burner camp stove and Rico’s goonbag over their heads. Joanna, on the other hand, really wants Sam and Co to prevail because Kieron has soft, white hands and a high probability of gingers in his knickers.
As with all Sudden Deaths, they’ve got to do a three course meal for Pete and Manu and a handful of mouthy ‘experts’ with varying table manners. And it’s the same old line-up, with one exception: that fuzzy little Australian who used to work with Jamie Slug-Tongue Oliver is gone, and in his place is a guy that I’m sure I’m supposed to find attractive, if only he could talk as though he doesn’t already have a mouthful of his next girlfriend.
Anyhoo, back to the entrees and the boys are doing my dad’s personal food-porn: the boiled potato. Only instead of just flipping them onto a plate and scarfing down like a pig in a truffle field, they’re flexing their Mario-Muscles and turning them into gnocci.
On the dork side, Kieron has lost interest in the real world and has lapsed into one of his favourite freak fantasies involving Yoda, a Lightsabre and a large bottle of lubricant. Their dish is as basic as it comes: a scallop and a nugget of black pudding that looks like something you’d flick off a dog’s bum before allowing it into the house, but they don’t fuck anything up too royally and out it goes.
The judges are underwhelmed and think the dish is about as complete as a one-beer six pack. The new Irish judge whose name might be Jamie but could equally be Fergus strings together something resembling a sentence and makes Manu feel good for no longer being the most annoying foreigner in the foundry.
The boys’ gnocci tastes good but those idiots have either undercooked a potato or thrown a Jaw Breaker in for texture, because that shit is grainier than a silo sandwich. Still, it’s clear the round goes to them and that one bad potato is no match for the menu mockery of Gozilla and her gingery prey.
Onto the mains and though Kieron appears to have set George Lucas aside for later, he’s still wandering around like a stoned hippy in a national park and Nastassia is feeling the strain. They’re doing one of Kieron’s favourite recipes: quail, and because of this it’s our tiny ranga who’s got his paws on the meat, not Nastassia.
Manu comes into the kitchen and tells Kieron he’s a mad bitch at a rabies bar if he thinks those birds will cook without an oven. Kieron starts to question himself and wonders if Manu could be right, but Nastassia is over his wimpy ways and tells him now isn’t the time for dick-measuring and to get the fuck on with it. Kieron, never one to laugh at a fanny-farting woman, does as he’s told so thoroughly that the fire-crotched little fucker gets it all the way to the plate before wondering if it’s cooked. Nastassia tells him in no uncertain terms that if the shit isn’t done, she’ll bust him up and serve his ass to the judges as ranga roadkill.
The mains come out and the boys’ looks… Like shit. It’s a lamb dish with some veg and there’s bits and slop all over the place. I think Mr Irish agrees with me but then again he could be laying down an anecdote about the time he was slow picking up the soap in the Big House and I wouldn’t be any the wiser.
The rest of the judges are unimpressed and think this dish should have been served with a side of electro shock therapy just to keep them awake.
Kieron and Nastassia’s, on the other hand, looks prettier than the lady-boy waiting in Manu’s hotel room and for all of three seconds it’s looking like things will go their way. But then they cut into the bird and Kieron’s theory that you can cook meat using The Force falls into fuckery because that shit is pinker than Jenna’s last cupcake and no-one remembers seeing listeria on the menu.
While the contestants are busy in the kitchen, the judges spout some crap about how Kieron and his giant benefactress will have to pull out a hell of a dessert to stay in the game. Rico reckons this is fuckery of the first order because, let’s face it, the boys could serve the cheesy underskirt of an unwashed dick and still romp it home to safety.
In nerd central Nastassia is stressing about portion size, unaware that she’s cooking the equivalent of a fat bastard crossing a finish-line and realising that every fucker has gone home. On the other side our boys are producing a chocolate tart that is in danger of going into the oven with Jenna’s tongue still attached to it.
Even though the judges mutter ominously about similarities, the desserts come out looking totally different. The boys’ is lovely – even if the pastry has more girth than Kieron’s crotch hammer – and Nastassia’s is, according to Pete, faultless. What Pete leaves out is that it’s too little too late and he hopes they ate while they cooked because their return ticket to Perth doesn’t include food.
At this point if you haven’t worked out who’s going home, you may as well crack open your skull and feed what few brains you find to the seagulls. The producers, though, still think we’re on the edge of our seats and they yank this crap out longer than the range on Sophia’s favourite sniper rifle.
But they can’t delay forever and, despite Pete throwing them a pity-six in the midst of a bunch of fours and what might have been a three from Mr Irish, our masochistic midget and his fearsome friend have carved their last clot and served their last turd and get hussled out the revolving door.
In their post-annihilation interview, Nastassia says the experience has brought them closer and, thanks to Kieron undercooking that quail, he’s lost his safe-word privileges and she now gets to beat him until he passes out.
May The Force be with you, Kieron.
xo Flawless /p>