Welcome to the first week sans Keira, lovers. We know this is going to be painful so let’s just rip off the band-aid and hope the scab hasn’t gone gangrenous.
Anyhoo, Keira is gone and Kiki wants everyone to let out a collective sigh of relieved morning breath. Bacon-crazed Noni reckons Keira started all the drama – with the obvious exception of the Great Oyster Regurgitation which we all know has made her chances of getting today’s Single up there with hood cheese.
The clue is ‘lets take it up a gear’ and Stef reckons because she and the Rich have been stuck on a continuous conversation loop involving engines, this shit belongs to her.
She’s right and Noni is pissed and left to wonder what, other than almost spew a mouthful of seafood at the Richelor, does a girl have to do to get a date.
Alex is also less than pleased and takes her best face to the camera to tell Australia that Stef’s about as much ‘Richie’s girl’ as the dehydrated Saint Bernard in the car in the RAC ad.
Date time and there’s water, a boat and a gratuitous bird that isn’t Stef. Here comes the human prawn cracker on a jet ski and Stef reckons Gold Class is the extent of romance in Ballarat but only if you’re the PM or you’ve just held up a Servo.
After complimenting one anothers’ life vests, talk turns to relationship goals and how Richie’s check-list is longer than Osher’s collection of tiny red suits. Then it’s more jet skiing, a shot of Stef’s bottom ascending some stairs and finally a fire-side picnic where Stef says Richie’s looks make her nervous because he’s as pasty and sweaty as a drug addict.
According to Richie, his romantic partner will always be his priority and that’s just going to be tough fucking custard for any offspring that come as a result of drunk copulation. She thinks it’s wonderful that he’s both a ‘petrol head’ and a potential deadbeat dad and, volia!, she gets a rose.
Next day dawns and Richie and Osher are hanging out with someone who claims to be a ‘relationship expert’ but is clearly no expert at choosing quality hair extensions.
To the bachettes’ joy they will be once again competing in a series of dehumanising tasks for the prize of sitting on a re-purposed couch watching Richie fumble for his cue cards.
Seriously, lovers, there are few highlights in the next business but honorouble mentions have to go to Noni and her melons in her Italian peasant costume, and Alex attempting a Nine and a Half Weeks minus the cantaloupe.
At the end of a very dull not nearly awkward-enough series of three challenges, Faith is deemed the most likely to bear Richie’s dogs, do the awkward two-step at the RSL club on Friday nights, and refrain from punching him in the face when he reverses into a traffic bollard.
According to Osher ‘something very special awaits on the back paddock’ and Rico gets momentarily excited until he sees the remnants from Heather’s sugar buffet date and two blokes whose sole purpose seems to be to deny any of it’s out of code.
Off to the couch they go clutching their hypodermic-impaled treats and wondering how much they’ll have to pretend to eat before the stagehands appear with the alcohol. Not long as it turns out, but long enough for Richie to ask if Faith would consider moving to Perth, and Faith to reply that she’d certainly move overseas again because that’s where Perth is, right?
The night finishes with a pash during which she says ‘butterflies came in my belly’ and Rico is now rocking in the corner.
Cocktail party time and everyone thinks Richie looks HOT in black because they’ve been living in terror of him borrowing one of Osher’s suits. First to get some alone time is Kiki, followed by Alex who says that Richie’s ability to remember her child’s name makes her melt. Even though he doesn’t ask, she assures him he is WORTH the sacrifice and Rico mutters he’d love to be a fly on the wall in the orphanage where Elijah is currently living – and not in a creepy way.
Oh but what’s this? Richie takes Rachel away to yet another virgin location, basically tells her she’s the Demi to his Ashton and which causes Alex to put down her White Rose and pick up the nearest stabbing weapon.
‘She basically told me to go home’ she sobs to Nikki, who at this point has to be wishing she’d done just that.
‘Just because someone lights your candle doesn’t mean you have to blow them’ Nikki replies uncertainly, patting her hand, and just like that it’s Rose Ceremony time.
While Osher explains that two whole females will be deemed too hideous for marriage, Alex finds time to repair her make-up while Rachel gives no sign that her back is a bloody mass of knife holes.
‘Alex!’calls Richie. ‘Rachel! Olena! Nikki! Kiki! And just like that it’s down to three and Noni has started reliving the taste of that oyster.
‘Nikki Webster!’announces the Rich, condemning Khalia to the Rapunzel Reject pile and Noni to at least 4 straight weeks inhaling bacon.
As her car sails away to bacon-filled worlds unplundered, Noni says that the Rich has shown her that good guys are out there and the next time she comes across one she’ll say a firm NO when he offers her a fucking oyster.
We’re knackered lovers – stay tuned for FROCK WATCH in the morning!