These days, TV is all
about interactivity. Text voting, live phone-ins, studio audiences. So, in the
hope that tonight will feature another revolting eating task, I’m going to be
munching my way through a ramekin full of Mr Porky’s Scratchings as I watch. I’ve
even picked out the hairiest ones to eat first, you know - the ones that are
like chewing those disposable toothbrushes you can get from the men’s toilets
in cheap pubs. I did also ask my neighbours to scream hysterically through the
letterbox every time Helen appears on screen, but they seem to be busy
practicing their bongos. But that’s East London living for you.
Today’s instalment
starts with some bad news - Brian Conley has left on medical grounds. The
conspiracy theorist in me wonders whether he’s holed up at the Versace Hotel
with Lucy Spraggan, writing wryly amusing songs about hangovers. The rest of the
camp is complaining about the fact that they’ve been handcuffed in pairs, and
can’t move more than four feet from each other. This is the same basic premise
as the early 90s sci-fi B-movie Wedlock, but without the head explosions if one
of them goes out of range. Sadly. Hugo moans that the tethers are “the most
annoying thing in the world” which suggests that he’s never had to listen to
one of his own VTs. Limahl seems less concerned, since he’s lying in a darkened
room in his underpants, looking a lot like that near-dead victim in Se7en.
As always, the main
part of the show focuses on the Bushtucker Trial which, unsurprisingly, stars
Helen. The viewing audience has clearly decided that she’s the one they want to
break. That, or they’re hoping that she’ll get so agitated she’ll pop right out
of that flimsy bikini top. This time around, she has to undertake the challenge
with the rest of her campmates cheering her on. David compares it to “having a child on sports day.” Just as
I’m wondering whether that would get the sack all slimey, he clarifies his
remark. Blame it on the poor syntax – he meant cheering on a child at their
sports day, not crowning halfway through the egg and spoon race. With the
support of her fellow celebrities, Helen doesn’t do too badly, even though she
has to stick her hand into more dark, disgusting places than Christopher
Timothy. In the end, she gets five stars out of a possible twelve, and then
optimistically says “If I was a viewer, I’d like to see David do a trial.”
Sadly, that’s not really how psychology works. Meanwhile, David tells us he’s
looking forward to Helen’s trial tomorrow.
After the break, David
decides to wind everyone up by telling them that they’re going to be shackled
together for another week, when in fact the note he’s been given says that they’re
free to disconnect themselves. Now that they’re all unshackled, Hugo’s fretting
about how untidy the camp is. He’s probably spent most of his life coming home
to a spotless apartment, but here in the camp he’s got to do more than stick
thirty quid under the teapot and hide his jewellery.
Rosemary, who is
probably less famous than the guy who does the trial dry-runs, comes to the
Bush Telegraph and enthuses “How lucky am I to be in here with all these
amazing people?” So she’s either a big Kajagoogoo groupie, or she’s already gone
Colonel Kurtz after three days in the jungle. David keeps her amused by
teaching her a few boxing moves, which prompts Ashley to vie for some attention
of her own. Demonstrating her own ‘special skill’, all that’s missing is a
garter belt stuffed with single notes. She needed the distraction, since she
spends most of her time wondering what the hell everyone else is talking about.
In particular, she’s finding it hard to understand Eric, Helen and Linda. Ant
and Dec suggest that it’s because she’s American, but I’d argue that anyone
with ears would struggle to get by. Half the time, it sounds like feeding time
in an aviary – even Marlee Matlin would begging for ear-muffs after 48 hours in
there.
Linda, Helen, Hugo,
Rosemary, Nadine and David head off to compete in another afternoon trial that
involves each of them being locked in a box with a load of magnets and
electrics. David convinces them that their boxes are filled with ‘hornet
cockroaches.’ It doesn’t take long for Nadine to scream “I’m a centipede, get
me out of here.” Or, at least, that’s what it sounded like. As David claims yet another victory, the
others are punished with a surprise electrocution, and poor Rosemary looks as
though she thinks she’s having a stroke. David tells us that Hugo came second,
adding “He was hot on my tail.” Now there’s some bonus footage we won’t be
seeing on ITV1.
The rest of the group
is back in the camp, bitching about Hugo’s arrogance. Eric is not a fan,
largely because he thinks Hugo was “born with a golden spoon up his arse” and
has never heard of piles. Which is odd, because you’d assume that those two
things would go hand-in-hand. You try spending time with cutlery stuck up your
clacker and see if you don’t develop a nasty bunch of Emma Freuds.
Dinner time, and
Rosemary attempts to fillet a bag-full of crocodile legs as Linda complains
“Can’t we eat something that didn’t look like it was living once?” The
panicking producers have got a helicopter on stand-by, ready to airlift in a
hundredweight of Turkey Twizzlers into camp if it all kicks off. Hugo throws
another childish strop and snaps at Rosemary, who soon kicks him into touch. He
has another little cry and blames it on the smoke. By the time Ant and
Dec enter the camp to announce who’s facing the last audience-voted trial, it’s
clear that Hugo’s petulance has cost him dearly. On the upside, for the first
time Helen gets to go a whole day without smudging her lip-gloss.
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