Morning lovers! Were you as thrilled by last night as we were? What could be better than a night spent with the dark prince of spider-legs hair and a whole table of strange creatures just waiting for our brutal judgement!
So last night it was about a tall drink of overly groomed water called Drasko. That’s right: ‘Drasko’. Because why call your child something ordinary like George when a soap opera name is so much more fun.
Rico reckons if Drasko was on the Bold and the Beautiful, he’d be a fashion designer from Russia who’s single aim in life is to crush Ridge in a design-off and have mechanical sex with Brooke Logan. But because it’s a soapie, it would then be revealed that he’s actually Ridge’s brother, because once upon a time Eric Forrester ordered himself a mail-order bride and only got to root her once before Stephanie slapped him in his frog goiter and sent her back to the motherland.
Anyhoo, because this is MKR he’s here to cook not steal his brother’s wife – and speaking of wife, he’s nearly got one because Bianca is his fiancee and aside from a slight Steffi Graf situation in the middle of her face, she’s prettier than a pink purse with a whole heap of money in it.
Their menu for tonight is marron, followed by venison, followed by marshmallow and Rico is excited because these are two of his favourite things, plus one thing he sometimes likes to give to the Dog just so he can see him chew funny.
Shopping time is one massive stressful affair, because finding the core ingredients is harder than snatching a handbag off a vigilant granny, and when they eventually make it home they’ve eaten into an hour and a half of their cooking time!
After throwing a few grapes on the table along with the cutlery, they rush into the kitchen in an attempt to get something done before the first of the new teams rolls on down the street.
A few marshmallow issues and a quick change later and it’s time to open the door and show off the quickest dressed Instant Restaurant in MKR history.
‘It feels like we’ve just stepped into a winery!’ gushes an older woman accompanied by her twin brother. But what’s this? They’re not twins at all they’re just a long-married husband and wife who are just a wig-swap away from identical – provided they leave their pants on.
Rico mutters that these two may be married but it wouldn’t be the first time a brother unknowingly married his sister and only found out when their firstborn came out with tentacles.
Anyhoo, while Ridge Forrester’s nemesis and Bianca hop back to the kitchen, the other teams begin the process of working out whose guts to hate the most.
‘We’re models!’ trill the butcher girls, Nikki and Kate, immediately jumping to the top of everyone’s list, and the Dog lifts his eyes from the pages of Vogue just long enough to snap that standing outside a chip shop with a tray of onion bhaji does not make you Elle Mc Fucking Pherson.
Rico reckons it must be interesting for the girls to be the prettiest employees at their butcher job, and the ones everyone tries to escort back to the mail room in the other, and if anyone at the table deserves a spread in a beauty mag it’s that sexy bit of yorkshire pudding, Will.
Will is partnered with Steve and even though Rico swears it cannot be, these two are clearly humping each other’s passages dry. Tony lookalike Lynn says she simply HAS to borrow some of Steve’s moisturiser, because either he’s an extremely young looking sixty or Will is dipping his aged paw in the cradle ala Stephen Fry.
Elsewhere around the table are closeted bald Rob and his bearded friend Dave who reckon that while they dance only marginally better than Delta Goodrem, they can bust a move in the kitchen with the best of them. There’s also skinny minny Jane and her friend Emma, who Rico swears is really Rumor Willis.
Nikki and Kate take an immediate dislike to the girls, mainly because they’re girls and secondly because they’re not boys. Rico reckons this is an incredibly unwise move because Rumor’s daddy is John McClane and he always seems to find a machine gun.
While this is all going on, there’s food being cooked in the kitchen and the drunken brawler of our fondest dreams has just stumbled up to the front door.
In he comes and he’s got a speech prepared about how they’ve ‘all got what it takes to win’ and, if not, he’ll glass them. Drasko gushes to the cameras that Fergus is someone he aspires to be just like and having him sprawled at the end of the table hollering for a drink is a dream come true!
Out comes the entree which is the marron with a thai-style salad and although one or two around the table are underdone and the salad is on the strong side, Fergus is happy to poke it down his throat and a create a lining for his next drink.
Back to the kitchen they go because there are beautiful ropes of venison to prepare and a fight to have over the plating.
‘That looks terrible!’ Bianca cries, watching Drasko do a Jackson Pollock with the sauce, but she’s too late to stop him and the plates go out saturated with brown sauce and uglier than a redheaded postal worker.
‘We used to plate like this 10 years ago’ announces Fergus, referring to the good old days in Belfast when, if a diner wanted more gravy you’d punch them in the teeth until they bled all over their plate.
Still, the venison is cooked perfectly, and considerable fatty Lynn waxes lyrical about it melting in her mouth and sliding into her belly to help the marron fight the hoardes of cheesecake she consumed earlier.
Back to the kitchen they skip, this time to some hideous cottage cheese-looking stuff which Bianca swears is her homemade marshmallow.
‘Chuck some icing sugar over it!’ suggests Drasko.
‘No!’ hollers Bianca – but once again it’s too late because he’s like a cheekboney version of Speedy Gonzales armed with a sieve.
Out to the table it goes and Fergus complains that this is yet another case of something that tastes good looking like Manu’s face. Still he eats it, and even though he thinks the peanut bits are too thick, he likes the parfait – especially the fact that he managed not to drunk slop it all over his dinner shirt.
Anyhoo, because chronic idiocy stayed tucked up in its bed tonight, Fergus scores them a five for entree, a seven for main and a seven for Dessert. And combined with the team total that gives them 70 out of 100 and, baring an unprecedented few nights of cooking genius, no chance of leaving the competition.
Rico thinks this is excellent news because he’s grown fond of Bianca’s disproportionate inhaler and can’t wait to see what happens when Manu meets Drasko and has to pronounce his name.
Until Sunday, lovers!