James Weir recaps SAS Australia 2020 episode 8 | This will change your mind about Warnie

All it took was a FaceTime call with his son Jackson on SAS to change everything we’ve ever thought or felt about Shane Warne. James Weir recaps.

SAS Australia pariah Firass Dirani goes rogue with an erratic mission on Tuesday night that ends in embarrassing failure and a spray of insults before the other celebrities turn on him and stage an intervention for being generally unbearable – the main takeaway being he now has an official new nickname as “the midget blue-fisted f**kin’ freak show”.

Interventions are fun. Especially when you’re the person ring-leading them. There’s no greater rush than assembling a group of misfits and surrounding an unsuspecting individual as you all yell in their face the reasons why they’re terrible.

There’s also a FaceTime call from Warnie that comes just as his son is left broken on the side of a mountain. It’ll thaw your ice-cold heart and change your mind about Warnie. I know, I know - I heard myself.

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So it’s 4.45am and the soldiers decide to wake up the bozos with a surprise gun attack. The celebrities have been warned about what to do if this happens: escape the sleeping slum and run up a mountain to some trees.

At the sound of the first bullet, of course Firass ditches everyone and scampers off into the night. He’s the first to arrive at the meeting point but then – out of guilt – helpfully guides everyone up to the retreat. The soldiers are impressed that he’s finally doing something right.

When no one’s looking, Candice is grabbed as she tries to escape the base camp and gets zip-tied to a post. It’s only upon doing a headcount at the top of the mountain that everyone realises the iron woman is missing.

Firass feels like he’s on a winning streak. He has managed to complete a task without being yelled at. He should now just stay under the radar and not ruin it. But because it’s Firass he decides to get cocky.

He runs off back down the mountain without telling anyone to save Candice. As he dodges boulders and skips over fallen tree branches, he begins to fantasise in his head about the praise that’ll be lavished on him for showing such bravery and initiative. He imagines his fellow celebrities – the ones who’ve spent the past four weeks hating him – hoisting him up on their shoulders and chanting, “Hero! Hero!”.

“We were wrong all along,” he pictures Merrick saying. “You’re the best person here. Also, your season of Underbelly is timeless.”

Maybe then, Firass imagines, the head soldier will even give him a medal or at least a certificate with fancy embossed font.

He can see the lights of base camp in the distance and, as he runs faster, so much adrenaline pumps through his veins that he doesn’t even notice the three degree temperate. He makes it to the bottom and sneaks through the back of the quarters.

But what’s he supposed to do now? He needs a weapon. On the ground, strewn between some bricks and sheets of corrugated iron, he spots an old metal pole from a fence. He grabs it – along with a blue cooking mitt which he squeezes his hand into for added protection – and creeps up to the door.

By now, the soldiers have actually finished the challenge and untied Candice. They’re about to call in the celebrities and wrap everything up. This is when Firass bursts in.

“Stay the f**k back!” he wields the metal pole in the air as he looks around and sees Candice wrapped in blankets and drinking tea from an enamel mug on her swag.

Oh Firass.

He lunges at the head soldier and points the metal pole at him. The soldiers react as you’d expect.

“Oi! Get that f**kin’ **** away from me, d**khead!” one soldier grabs the pole. “Gimme that f**kin’ pole, prick. What are you doing?”

The other soldier looms above and begins to mock Firass. “The damsel in distress is now being rescued by the midget blue-fisted f**kin’ freak show!”

Honestly, that insult is just inspired.

Just ONCE you wear a blue oven mitt during a failed mission and all of a sudden you’re forever known as the “midget blue-fisted f**kin’ freak show”.

Back on the top of the mountain, the other recruits are furious that Firass would go rogue and launch an ill-thought out mission that was never assigned. They’ve endured the punishment for his past mistakes and this latest escapade is the final straw.

So they dob on him.

“He puts us all at risk and his behaviour continuously upsets the group. He’s a weak link, he’s a risk to the group,” Merrick tattles to the head soldier, who laughs in his face and tells him to disappear.

So the celebs have to launch Plan B: conduct an intervention. They gather around Firass in a circle and, one-by-one, each state why they hate him. Hot tip: This can also be done to people in your office.

“Firass, it’s about you and you know it. There’s no bullsh*t. I think your behaviour dictates your actions, your actions dictate team results and the team results are … bad,” Merrick begins before Sabrina takes over.

“I don’t trust you. To be paired up with you, I’m worried,” she says as that Biggest Loser trainer adds on to the sledging.

“Everybody so far has said they would not like to be with you heading into the next part. It is universal. So I’m asking you, as a man of integrity, to please hand your arm band in for the betterment of everyone else.”

They’ve staged an intervention and begged him to leave. Most people would take this as a sign to bow out gracefully. Not Firass. He thinks that when people beg you to leave, you should dig your heels in more.

“I can’t hand in my number. I belong here,” he says. “That’s what I feel in my heart. My heart of hearts. I own it. I own me.”

New show idea: Celebrity Interventions.

The soldiers pledged last night to break Jackson physically and mentally. And tonight they make good on the promise.

It doesn’t take much. Jackson sucks at anything involving the slightest bit of physical exertion and a light jog up a hill is enough to destroy him.

If it was anyone else we’d laugh but Jackson is a total sweetie. The boy has only eaten 10 foods in his entire life – he should be swaddled in an old bath towel and protected like a wounded bird.

As expected, producers make Shane Warne FaceTime in to lend some star power.

“Friend,” Jackson cries when he sees his dad’s face.

“Hello friend!” Warnie beams.

I’ll say it: This moment over FaceTime completely changes the way I feel about Shane Warne and I’m now a fan. I still think he’s ridiculous, but I’m a fan.

“Guess what?” Jackson sobs before sharing all the tasks he has endured. But he saves the most impressive for last. “I ate all the food!”

Warnie’s reply is very Warnie. “Go and smash 20 burgers!”

Jackson has single-handedly redeemed the Warne reputation.

Meanwhile, the other celebs are getting video messages from home even though it has only been, like, a fortnight. The only interesting thing of note is Honey Badger’s unmanageable hair.

Get the man a leave-in conditioner, STAT!

Oh, and Candice slaps down the lid of the laptop midway through a video from her daughters and refuses to watch the rest.

“We love you and we’re really proud of you!” their little voices chirp as a smiling David Warner stands behind them.

Candice has faced a lot on this show. She has had the toilet tryst scandal dredged up without warning and she has also been involved in an exploding toilet bucket accident. So many toilet incidents. But it’s this video that breaks her.

She smacks down the lid of the MacBook Pro and walks away.

Why? She doesn’t say. Or maybe she does – I don’t know. I’m too busy changing my Tinder profile to read: “Just a damsel in distress waiting to be rescued by the midget blue-fisted f**kin’ freak show”.

Twitter, Facebook: @hellojamesweir

We know you’re sad, Candice, but look at the silver lining: no toilet incidents this week!