Ok, so you all know the verdict and that David and Corinne enjoyed a fond farewell at the hands of Channel 7’s crack security unit – so why are we bothering to finish up this sequence, I hear you ask?
Because, lovers, there is something bad going on behind the scenes of MKR – something we’ve suspected for some time but which, in this season in particular, can no longer be swept under the rug along with Rico’s toenail clippings and the Dog’s Twilight fan fiction:
WHERE ARE ALL THE POOR PEOPLE?
Actually, that’s not even fair – where are all the middle-of-the-road people too? Where are the people who work at Zamels and Sussan? Where are the people who snarl at us when we drive 130kph past roadworks? Where are the people who fight us for the last four-litre of dry red (and leave empty handed)? Where are the people who ACTUALLY shop at Coles? – and not just because the show told them if they went to anywhere that actually stocked their fucking shelves they’d be shot dead.
Logic says the lack of the lower classes is because Skinny Pete likes a good five metres of table space between him and the nearest contestant, and poor people would just cramp them into a – horrors! – DINING NOOK, and that would mean exposing himself to movement under the table cloth.
Rico, on the other hand, is adamant it’s because Manu doesn’t believe poor people understand birth control – and that he’d rather father illegitimate bastards who don’t need to come knocking on his door in 18 years looking for a great sack of daddy-cash.
Rich people, you BORE me. Where Is the excitement of a pair of students sharing a two-bedroom unit with eight other people? Where is he thrill of the brother and sister team who still live at mum and dad’s – mum being a garbo and dad sitting on a dodgy disabled pension? Where is the sheer edge-of-your-seat with the newly weds who are hocked up to their eyeballs just to live in some concrete-floor sack of crap right next to the freeway? And, finally, we’ve seen plenty of people sip from a glass of wine during the cooking – but where’s the Passion Pop? Where’s the Bundy and Orange juice? Where’s the goddamn Creme de Menthe and coke?
I mean, come on MKR! Haven’t you worked out yet that eliminating contestants is way more fun when they’ve got only a one-bedroom fibro filled with repossessed furniture to come back to?