James Weir recaps Married At First Sight Australia 2021 episode 2 | MAFS groom sledges OTT wife
This controversial bride is brutally written off on national TV by the man she marries. And then he lies to her face.
Married At First Sight’s OTT, WAP-quoting bride cops a sledging from her frightened groom on Tuesday in an episode that ends with her being taken down a peg in a moment that’s as raw as the husband’s mankles.
JAMES WEIR RECAPS: Read all the recaps here
JAMES WEIR RECAPS: MAFS episode 1
We’re invited to three weddings this evening but like hell we’re gonna attend all of ‘em. Who do we ditch? Well, we tear up the invitation to Booka and Brett’s without even opening it because they’re boring and we assume the menu at their reception will be enforced-vegan.
We’re kinda intrigued about Samantha and Cameron’s wedding. Mainly because she’s the chick who bought her couch at the rubbish tip and then got age-gap-shamed at the hens’ party before initiating a confrontation. She could be fun to hang with. But then we check in with her a few hours before the ceremony and realise she has calmed down tremendously since the fiery hens’ argument — and the guy she’s marrying is just blah — so we tell her we have better things to do and to cancel our meals with the reception’s catering company.
This leaves us with Coco — the intense pilates instructor who’s still trying to coin a viral catchphrase. You better believe we RSVP “HELL YES” and clear our schedules to attend this rager.
The first order of business for Coco is spit-balling more slogans.
“What’s good, daddy?” she squawks as she flops down at a cafe table to meet her girlfriends for brunch and mimosas on a Wednesday.
“Keep your heels and standards high, ladies!” she informs her pilates clients during a class.
“I’ll probably do a few nervous poos,” she admits when asked about the pending ceremony. OK, this catchphrase is the frontrunner. It’s got the warm, comforting wisdom of an Elizabeth Gilbert novel. Definitely screen print this one on a tank top.
Who’s she marrying? A guy called Sam. We don’t know much about him because we’re honestly only here to see Coco cause havoc.
OK, what important things can we share about Sam? Well … he wears deodorant.
Annnd … he has mankles.
Oh, and he likes boobs.
“She’s gotta have decent boobs,” he confides.
All these details about Sam just paint a vibrant picture, huh?
We’re moments away from the wedding and, as always, Coco is just super chill and serene.
“Hopefully he’s wanting to be the Kanye to my Kim! Let’s build an empire!” she declares about the anonymous man she’s about to blindly wed.
For the purpose of fair and balanced reporting, please note Kim has filed for divorce from Kanye.
“You’ve gotta have a little somethin’ somethin’ in you — there’s a little jalapeño spice. Mmm. A little chilli. Arrabbiata sauce,” she continues to offer catchphrases while musing about her dream husband.
Now we’re just at the bottom of the barrel and she’s serving up half-baked slogans. I still think we should’ve settled on, “I’ll pay 10 cents extra for sauce!”
Regardless, Coco is characteristically enthusiastic about the possibilities of this union. But boob-man Sam?
“If I’m into her, I’m into her. And if I’m not, it’ll be pretty hard to hide,” he shrugs.
Ooh, producers are on their A-game with the foreshadowing.
Coco whirls down the aisle, limbs flailing and half-formed catchphrases echoing around her.
When she eventually reaches her groom, she quotes Shakespeare. Or is it Walt Whitman?
“Dayyyymn. What’s good?” she scrunches her face and cocks her head to the side as she assesses the stranger before her.
It’s abundantly clear she thinks Sam has the arrabbiata sauce she is so craving.
He, on the other hand?
“I can tell she’s gonna be very loud. She’s a little bit different to what I’m used to. I’m a little bit thrown by her,” he confesses to us.
When it comes time for vows, Sam recites a beautifully written and thoughtful speech. Coco gets more creative.
“I should just read out WAP,” she zings, turning to the crowd for applause that never comes.
It’s around now Sam checks out completely. “Wow,” he looks down, regretting all of his life choices.
But Coco has indeed written proper vows.
“My name is Coco. What’s good, papi? I’m a proud Leo, and, like a lion, I advise you don’t interrupt me when I’m eating,” she again awaits applause from the crowd.
The only thing worse than this is when brides say, “You better put the toilet seat down!” in their vows. PSA: Don’t mention toilets at your wedding. Just read whatever stock standard thing the church magician tells you to.
OK, we like to joke about Coco — but she’s not entirely socially inept. She senses Sam is withdrawing from the day, so she makes an effort to find some common ground as they get their wedding photos taken.
“What kinda music are you into? I’m guessing trance?” she squints.
Before he even has a chance to answer, she has already moved onto what music she likes.
“UK rap and drill,” she lists. “Do you like Pop Smoke? I can’t believe you don’t know who Pop Smoke is! He’s a rapper. He got shot.”
Sam stares blankly into the distance and a wave of jealousy washes over his body as he wishes he was the one who got shot instead of Pop Smoke.
Coco can feel him slipping away even further.
“I’m guessing I’m not your usual type?” she asks.
And then. He lies. “No, you are my usual type,” he replies without missing a beat.
We shouldn’t be surprised he’s such a mess. The guy has mankles, for cryin’ out loud.
He’s unhappy and his body has gone into shock. Producers quiz him and he lies again. They push further, coaxing out the brutish response they know will divide audiences and spark backlash.
“You want me to be brutally honest?” he blurts to the producer — eyes wide and nostrils flaring.
This is it.
“Well, I don’t wanna look like an a**hole. I just met her, she might be a really lovely person. But she’s definitely f**kin’ extra and out there. She’s not my cup of tea. She’s not my type. Far from it. That’s being brutally honest.”
Hear that noise? It’s the sound of hashtags being hurled into your Twitter timeline.
The emotional purge doesn’t leave him feeling better and, at the reception — as Coco yells out more subpar catchphrases across the hall — he’s hating life.
Just when he couldn’t find Coco more confusing, she goes and starts using more gangsta rap lingo.
“I’m born to make Ms,” she shrugs.
“What’s an M?” he scrunches his face.
“Millions,” she pumps her hands in the air, raising the roof, before bringing up Pop Smoke again.
“Does anyone else know who he is?” he stands up and questions the room, but no one hears because Coco has grabbed the mic.
“I’m white meat baby! Get some pork on ya fork!” her voice bounces off the walls.
Sam doesn’t know if he’s the pork or the fork — and he doesn’t wanna find out.
“Some of the things she says are a little bit cringe-worthy,” he grimaces.
How dare he. This is the final straw. Samuel, you’ve coloured your hair with an at-home Clairol box kit. And you’re probably into trance music. You’re not in a position to judge, sir.
Coco doesn’t need Sam. She should take her own advice by keeping her standards, and heels, high. Does she really wanna be with someone who refuses to have the classic tunes of Pop Smoke played on their wedding day?
Turns out, Coco is like all of us. She’s blinded by the chance of love. She gives in and panders to Sam.
“... What did you first think when you met me?” she asks, nervously tracing circles on her thigh with her forefinger.
“I thought you could potentially be really loud and out there and crazy. Saying out there and outlandish things at inappropriate times is never fun,” he informs her.
Ugh. Prude. Obviously it’s the “pork on ya fork” catchphrase that prompted this reaction.
Coco seems unbreakable but she’s not. This comment cuts close to the bone and her bravado wilts.
“It’s good to see Coco has an off switch. Maybe I judged her too quickly,” Sam says, and we immediately hear the whooshes of social media hashtags being hurled again.
The real question is: will Sam pay 10 cents extra for sauce?
Twitter, Facebook: @hellojamesweir