Married At First Sight 2018 episode 21 recap

ONE MAFS wife revealed an awkward secret about their sex life while another got the ultimate revenge on her nasty husband.

TWO brides have rocked Married At First Sight, with one dropping a bombshell about her sex life and the other launching into a “gobsmacking” tirade aimed at her nasty husband.

Before we get into all that though, we need to address the elephant in the room.

I am not James Weir.

I’ve seen the rise in his Twitter profile since he started this recap jaunt, and I want in. James is currently hogtied in my basement and won’t be released until I hit 10,000 followers.

Welcome to the off-off-off-Broadway MAFS recap.

Ahead of this week’s commitment ceremony — where Ashley reveals a huge twist in (potential virgin) Troy’s sex life and Gabrielle finally snaps after a week of being neglected by Nasser — we check in with the other couples.

‘ARROGANT A**HOLE!’: James Weir recaps MAFS episode 20

After weeks of wearing Hazmat suits to avoid physical intimacy, Carly and “millionaire” Justin have decided to strip down and Do It. We pop into their apartment afterwards and see that they’ve woken up on opposite sides of the bed and are making awkward small talk.

Honestly, they’re trying so hard to get this off the ground, and it’s just like in Friends when Joey and Rachel decide to have sex and it’s weird and Rachel keeps slapping Joey’s hand away and then accidentally knees him in the balls.

Later, Carly described their “night of passion” as “weird”, while “millionaire” Justin admitted it “confused” him.

Then they have the world’s most awkward pash in front of the experts, and just LOOK at her face:

Sexy.

I really like Patrick and Charlene but they’re also super boring so we skip their place.

Meanwhile, Tracey was pretty shocked when we told her she was getting canned from tonight’s show if she started rapping again, but she agreed to our deal on the proviso that she can at least dress like Jenny From The Block.

Me after listening to one Iggy Azalea song.

Even Dean’s wary when he sees her, dropping that line everyone uses when they don’t want to drag someone but also think they look hideous: “Awwww, look at you!”

Meanwhile, Tracey is really feelin’ herself after the homestays. She got to lead Dean by the collar on an Apology Tour all over WA, forcing him to disclose his Davina sins and repent in front of everyone she’s ever met.

Tracey knows she’s in the driver’s seat now, and there are a lot of Independent Woman-inspired lines as she waltzes into the commitment ceremony and tells the experts that she’s not planning a future with Dean because she’s not sure he’ll be able to keep up the good work.

But obviously they both opt to stay, because they’re already hard at work on their joint hip hop album (working title: Hit It And Quit It).

Melissa has fled the Married coop to go be with her daughter while she gives birth, so John is left sitting by himself on a couch answering questions about his love life, and it’s just like me at family get-togethers for my entire young adult life.

But we need to check in with our new post-Davina villain, so let’s skip right over to Nasser.

He’s been a bit of a d**k all week, and to be honest we’re almost at the point of just demanding he hand over his skincare secrets and get the hell out of there.

He totally abandoned Gab at her homestay, deeming the apartment “possessed”, and also — most significantly — began regularly referring to himself in the third person, like some kind of highly strung, deeply tanned Yoda.

“It’s always Nasser first, and there’s nothing wrong with that,” Nasser tells us. He adds that he’s feeling a bit down and that the “Nass” has gone out of the “Nasser”, which seems weird because I’m certain the “ass” is still in there.

When the experts grill him on why he hightailed out of Gab’s pad, Nasser snarls that “it was a rented place” as though he’s never even HEARD of Sydney property prices and avocadoes, yada yada.

There’s more judgment than usual coming from the experts’ chair. Mel Schilling in particular has no time for Nasser’s garbage and gently reminds him that he sucks.

“But you’re 50 and you’re single, Nasser,” she tells him, with this look:

‘Yes, you are trash.’

Anyway, Gab’s been practising for her big moment for days, and she’s champing at the bit to have her say.

She unleashes on Nasser for his bad behaviour, and just as we’re about to give her a standing ovation and start a conga line to Single Ladies, Gab surprises everyone by revealing her chosen punishment for Nasser is to ... stay with him?

“I’m not leaving this experiment until I’m ready,” she says. “No one directs me and tells me how it’s gonna be. Let this card remind you of who’s sitting next to you — and I’m not a doormat. I can be very selfish when I want to be, and this is what I want, so this is what I’ll have.”

To be honest, they’re having a free holiday, so I kind of get it.

But the biggest bombshell of the night comes from Troy and Ashley.

We’ve all cringed for weeks as Troy desperately flung his open mouth toward Ash’s in the hopes it’d catch, only for her to make it obvious she’s low-key repulsed by him.

But there’s a whole other side to this story we’ve never even known about.

Troy starts giving some big, thinly veiled sex talk to the group, claiming he’s “raring to go” and that with all the charm he’s oozing, most girls would have jumped him by now.

But Ashley’s not having a bar of it.

“That’s funny you say that, but on the wedding night when I was ready to go hard and heavy with you, you turned your back on me in bed,” she shrieks at him.

“You didn’t even attempt to do anything ... That whole week! I just needed something, a little touching, a little kissing, and you just turned your back on me.”

Troy is so flustered at having his macho sex rep outed in front of the group that his ‘Hugh Grant in Notting Hill’-style ’do flops around violently as he nervously shakes his head.

But eventually, the dust settles, and we know the truth:

Troy’s playa rep comes crumbling down.

‘Sorry not sorry.’

Troy is probably not a Sex God.

To help secure James Weir’s freedom or to fight me on the fact that the Rachel and Joey hook-up was the worst Friends storyline ever, tweet me @brontecoy.