Jo Thornely recaps The Bachelor 2016 episode 5

THE face-sucking on the Bachelor reached a whole new level last night. So did the utter stupidity of the show’s dates - and the Bachelorettes’ ridiculous spats.

ROSES are red,

Bitches be cray;

Let’s talk about babies

For most of the day.

Here we are in episode five already, on a show with a story as old as time: proving your love for a monumentally uninteresting man by carrying around small plastic human beings.

We start in the Sponsored Fashion Pyjamas Kitchen Area, where Alex learns she’s FINALLY going on a single date with Richie. The excitement at spending alone time with a man she can literally spend alone time with whenever she wants is palpable.

I can feel it in my Sponsored Excitement Area.

With large pockets of Australia impatiently trying to guess what kind of stereotypically gender-based date this will be, Richie narrows it down for us.

“Being raised by two women, one thing I’ve learned is that girls love clothes ha ha,” he hints, pulling the limo up at the Sponsored Glamour Kaftan Emporium.

And of course, not only do those with X chromosomes love having things bought for them, they also love a changeroom montage, tucking their frocks into their undies, and twirling around in front of their Y chromosome counterparts. It’s science! In like, the 1950s.

Twirling, the polio vaccine of romance.

Happily the shop has a couch tailor-made for sipping champagne and talking about how much they like talking to each other.

I really love talking to you about couches.

Moving to a second couch at a hotel tearoom, Alex and Richie risk arrest by talking about something other than how they feel about each other. They speak briefly about Alex being a busy mum before careening swiftly back to the subject of love to avoid a hefty additional fine. “Love bears no boundaries,” gushes Alex, while Richie no doubt thinks, “OMG I love bears too”.

Not satisfied with a frock and a macaron, Richie whisks Alex outside so they can listen to a Sponsored Renowned International Artist all by themselves, renowned internationally as the most awkward way you can possibly watch an international artist play.

Don’t be awkward guys, chill, I have necklaces.

After five more twirls, four telling Alex she’s gorgeous, three Alex telling us she feels like the most special girl in the world and two couches, she finally sheds one solitary crystalline tear and the date is over.

Oh yeah, except for the wettest, squelchiest most open-mouthed pash in hotel balcony history.

Like feeding a baby bird leftover macarons.

Richie pops off to consult a dictionary, tells Alex she makes him feel ignited, and gives her a rose.

To offset the unwholesome display of moisture but keep the reproduction theme going, back at the Womansion a group date card announces “Nobody puts baby in the corner”, or maybe “Remembryo your embryo” — I can’t really hear it over the sudden cacophony of crying infants. Because finally, after weeks of waiting, we have the world’s stupidest group date: fake motherhood.

Hot, right.

Free-divin’ Megan, Kiki, Nikki, and Everybody’s Favourite Russian Sasha must each look after a fake baby for a day. Nikki smashes gender stereotypes by naming her baby ‘Nina’ despite the fact that he has budding masculine attributes.

Like a baby bird.

Keira sums up what Australia is thinking by grumping “Who wants to go on an annoying baby-crying date?” and Noni declares “I would rather swim with crocodiles than go on that date”.

In an uncanny coincidence, Noni is chosen to join the date as the mother of Teflon twins. She responds with those loving, maternal words that every infant wants to hear: “Kill me now, this is the worst day of my life”.

Osher seems totally comfortable with it.

Not content to spend their first day of manufactured parenting at home, Richie takes the girls to play putt-putt, a move straight out of the New Synthetic Parent Handbook.

“Playing minigolf with a bunch of newborns is all about teamwork” he says, mentally calling the vasectomy hotline.

Noni is a shining example of the leaving-your-babies-on-the-ground method, Kiki declares triumphantly that “I’m a mother AND a golfer”, Nikki is a natural, Megan carries her baby like it’s a tray of margaritas, and Sasha ascribes to the theory that “In Russia we are much tougher” by rocking her baby semi-violently and letting it forage for formula in its vast pram.

It’s not a competition, it’s a stupid ridiculous date, and Nikki wins the stupid ridiculous date with a Richie-Time prize. Without alarming anyone or waking any babies, Richie-Time means sitting on a couch, drinking champagne, and talking about how easy it is to talk.

She asks if she can kiss him, and reading straight from a romance novel, he replies “Yeah, if you want”.

Whatevs, I guess.

Nikki gets a rose, because if there’s three things Richie just hands out willy nilly, it’s roses, kisses, and the phrase “you’re gorgeous ha ha”.

Weirdly there are no babies mentioned at the cocktail party, but Nikki does mention her pash, leading Alex, genuinely surprised at the basic premise of this show, to lend her instant support.

I am going to crush you like a baby bird.

Similar to several business meetings I had today, conversation is mostly about whether or not you should tell a dozen girls you’re sharing a boring man with that you’ve kissed the boring man. Some people say yeah, some people say nah, and Keira says whatever gets her camera time.

Tension flares until Eliza injects a welcome dose of what by giving Richie a blue velvet rose from a ribbon she pulls out of her bra. That’s a sentence, in English, this year. She says it’s to “celebrate the fact that I’m a weirdo”. Eliza must rule the planet Earth and release an album without delay.

Look at yoooou, my bra rose is forever bluuuueee

By the time we get to the Rosatorium, the dwindling brunettes are understandably nervous, but Osher, pacing in in a brushed asphalt suit, comforts them with his trademark Serious Osher Voice.

When the inevitable voice-overs kick in, Keira makes the finals for Miss Understatement Of The Year by stating “I’m confident. I don’t need reassurance”.

One by one Richie bestows the gift of rosehood on the fortunate, until only Singin’ Eliza and Bacon-Eatin’ Noni remain.

There is no vaccine for the brunette curse.

An entire trimester passes, and the unthinkable happens.

(sobbing) look at yoooouuuu

Richie chooses a life of boring, songless blonde romance by eliminating the ultimate special snowflake, Eliza.

Her final words are “Look after your hearts, beauties”, which is the second most excellent thing anyone could say.

The first most excellent thing would be those same words, but in a song.

Jo Thornely doesn’t get enough attention at her day job, so she writes for various outlets, takes up way too much bandwidth on the internet, and loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her @JoThornely