MKR: The One With the LOWEST SCORE EVER (AKA David and Corinne Party ’til Dawn)

5 Feb


Well, lovers, it’s finally happened:  Captain David and his dented trophy of a wife, Corinne, have released their hold on the MKR Dunce Helmet and passed it to another team more deserving.  Bek and Ash:  tonight you cooked with pots, pans and nothing resembling brains.  Your errors were large, your ability to cope non-existent.  You took the simplest line-up since Manu’s last brain scan and managed to fark it up so high not even a Sherpa could attempt a rescue.  Take a bow, ladies.  Take a fecking BOW.

Oh lovers, knowing what went down tonight it’s hard to go back to the beginning without weeping.  It seems so unlikely that just hours ago Bek was yapping about Tinder and Ash was showcasing her strong, white thighs in a toddler suit.  How young, how innocent we all were.

Rico reckons we should have seen the portent of doom in all the cultural inappropriation that was their ‘music festival-themed’ Instant Restaurant.  Perhaps what befell the girls tonight was not so much poor cooking ability, but the attention of the Great Spirits who took one look at their decorative Dream Catchers and Wigwams and said ‘F*ck these stupid white b*tches’.

Good story.  Feel free to use it, Daily Mail.

Anyhoo, let’s skip ahead to the entree, shall we?  Ok, so their first mistake was clearly cutting all those veges up into the tiny cubes you only ever really see in a playground next to a Whizzy Dizzy.  Their second was listening to all that advertising and believing that Philly cheese is something that should be seen outside of a trash receptacle.  Their third was missing the many, MANY times the judges have raged against raw garlic and the fourth was having the nerve to refer to it as ‘seasoning’.

Raw garlic is not ‘seasoning’, ladies.  ‘Seasoning’ does not live on your palate for a decade and stop aliens from viewing us as intelligent life.


While they ‘cook’ (and believe us, we use that term loosely), there’s much banter from the other guests including Betty and David, who figure they might have to resort to strategy (ha!), and Tim and Kyle who view this as ‘the test of marriage material’ and who will now be entering the priesthood.

Elsewhere around the table and while Caz is thrilled with the subtly racist decor, Tyson doesn’t view himself as ‘a festival person’ because he doesn’t own a Pikachu backpack stuffed with pharmaceuticals.  Betty, meanwhile, admits that her confidence in Bek and Ash actually producing food is questionable, and the producers reward her for her efforts with the very first Snake Music of the season.

Here come the judges, though, and when Bek promises they will bring lots of ‘music festival love’ to the plate, Pete flinches and Manu breaks out into an excited sweat.  He gets even sweatier on seeing dessert described as ‘the after party’ and Rico mutters that we’ve never exactly felt sorry for Manu but now might be the time to start.

While the girls head back to whatever it is they’re doing that isn’t cooking in the kitchen, Damo worries about pastry shrinkage and David admits that if they stumble he isn’t exactly going to rush forth with a first aid kit.  To the cameras Betty says that ‘it’s time to start slapping people’ and which is interesting when you remember her claim that everything she does she does for her poor, blind mother.

But here come the Philly tarts topped with pre-school recess yack and when Manu’s face contorts, the producers cut to an ad break for heartburn medication that surely isn’t a coincidence.

According to Manu, he loves garlic in many ways: cooked, cooked and COOKED.  According to Pete, there are many wonderful cheeses that wouldn’t have needed their misguided notion of seasoning, and just because Coles advertises it as ‘prices are down’ doesn’t mean you have to stoop to their level.

Off flee the girls leaving David to mime an enormous bulb of garlic kicking him in his under-used nuts and Betty to be frustrated because Amy said it looked nice without using the C-word.  Amy responds that they just have different ways of critiquing and Betty thinks this is just crap because SHE doesn’t like it and that means no one else is allowed to either.

Back in the kitchen and Ash is using her patent-pending method of burning the fish using both butter AND olive oil.  After an amusing few minutes in which she burns the fish, burns herself and, sadly, doesn’t burn a stray judge entering the kitchen, Bek talks up the salad only to discover there’s a lack of walnut oil.

‘Why is this happening?’ wonders Ash.  ‘Is the pan too hot?’  ‘The fish too thick?’

Rico mutters that other than his Great Spirits theory, this has more to do with the audition process being more rotten than a forgotten turnip in a Fisher and Paycal and Ash just needs to buckle down and accept that she’s the patsy to the MKR Root Story that is Bek and Kyle.

Out in the dining room and Tyson has just finished a spiel in which he labeled the previous three IRs as ‘average’ and which has gotten David’s Victoria’s Secret in a neat little bunch.  Betty reckons she knows what Tyson is up to and it’s as underhanded and devious as serving someone a donut and failing to mention the insides were squeezed from a smegmatic boil.

Back in the kitchen and Ash is still scorching with aplomb while Bek mutters that she knows this is a nightmare and not one that she has any hopes of dying in.  Finally, finally, though, the enormous box of fish is emptied and finally, finally there’s a sad little plate of hideous looking off-cuts to plate up.  As they survey what could only be called ‘wreckage’ if one was drunk and feeling incredibly kind, they discuss walking back out to the dining room and not stopping until they’re through the front door and in the backseat of Tyson’s Uber.

Out they go, though, and the consensus is that the fish looks as sad as a sad clown with his leg trapped in a sinking car.

According to Skinny Pete, he’s never had a dish like this in the competition and, God willing, will live to earn his stomach’s forgiveness.  Manu who, mercifully, got the smallest portion, says it wasn’t complicated and they need to find a way to…to…to… well, stop cooking.

In their defense, Bek says it’s ‘not us’ and maybe all those warnings about cooking on a sacred Indian burial ground were something they should have looked more into more seriously.  Kyle says he wants to give them a hug but only if it’s inside a Tardis that can take him back to a time before the first two courses happened.

Back to the kitchen and the Spirits are indeed vengeful because half the profiteroles collapse and the Cointreau won’t mix with the chocolate sauce.  Things get even worse – or fun, you decide – when Bek describes the custard as scrambled eggs and scrambled eggs around Australia start looking worriedly into the mirror.  It’s at this point Ash realises they will have to cut their profiteroles in half and Bek starts wishing for a surprise homicidal truck.

Out in the dining room and talk has turned to Amy and Tyson’s soon-to-be Instant Restaurant and Amy breaks the news that Tyson’s nickname is ‘angry, angry man’.  While Tyson admits to flipping tables and going greener than David Banner with a fork in his kneecap, everyone has great fun mimicking his neck veins and wishing that the table he flipped could have had Betty and David’s dessert on it.

Out come the profiterole sandwiches and the girls look sick even though they’re not the ones who have to eat them.  Pete says it was the best dish of the night and that they should take that as a compliment only if they are barking, barking mad.  Manu says the pastry was wrong, the custard was wrong and Bek saying they can do so much better is CLEARLY the wrongest of all.

Around the table and David describes it as a ‘mixed breakfast’ because his lamb comment got more likes than Betty’s last boob Insta.  Damo thinks he’s just putting the knife in and which is unfair because, with only one profiterole, that leaves no room for anyone else’s.

Scoring time and David and Betty score them a four because they know full well they could score them a 10 and still be streets ahead on the Leader Board.  Karen and Worzel also score a four because they’re as close to kindly old folk as the table has, leaving the rest of the teams to hand over a matched set of still crazily undeserved threes.

Over to the judges and who are as caught up in the spirit of generosity as two cats fighting over the same litter tray.  As expected, entree and dessert end up with all ones and after a two from Manu and a three from Pete for dessert, David and Corinne’s record is well and truly defecated on.


Losers no longer.  Well, sort of.

Skinny Pete, always happiest to push the axe in until it hits spine, tells them that, at 26, their score is literally The Worst, and Bek better kiss Kyle soon because he can hear Security revving up their Tasers.  Bek says that they deserved the score but that their food was a ‘reflection of the night’, and not just the MKR casting agents trolling the living f*ck out of viewing Australia.

Next up, of course, are beefy beards Tim and Kyle and by the looks of things the judges are wearing their dish-licking suits and which means we can sleep through until Tyson and Amy’s.

Thanks for your efforts tonight, Bek and Ash.  You tried and although people will say that’s all that matters, THEY ARE LYING because you auditioned for a cooking show NOT WHEEL OF FECKING FORTUNE!

Until next time, lovers!

xo Flawless







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