‘Bachelor in Paradise’: Sham(an) wedding

Bachelor in Paradise
August 31, 2015

HOUR FIFTEEN. FIFTEEN. NINE HUNDRED MINUTES OF MY LIFE GONE.

[Symptoms: Insatiable hunger for snacks; ennui]

We begin the episode with Other Widow getting her fool self stung by a jellyfish and demanding that Elevenley pee on her foot. I can not. I shall not.

So, instead, let’s go back to where we left things in the previous episode. Everyone is SO MAD at LacePants for keeping Dansome — whom they all like — around and eliminating Cleetus — whom they were all SO MAD at not ten minutes ago. I don’t know. Something about how she’s not taking responsibility for being so terribly awful. So everyone’s plan is to have new arrival Chelsie ask Dansome out on her date, and lure him away from LacePants.

Except Chelsie decides to ask Nick out instead because YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF CHELSIE, EVERYONE.

After accepting her date invitation, Nick goes up to the Lady Reject dorm to talk to Bloomin’ Onion about this development, catching her mid-face wash. This sets Bloomin’ Onion off, because what doesn’t, but Nick doesn’t help matters when she finally does come talk to him and he tells her she “smells like a brewery.”

rude

Nick then explains to Bloomin’ that while he had fun on their date, he doesn’t think it’s going to work out between them, and he’s going to go out with someone new now, ok, bye. And Bloomin’ Onion is like, FINE COOL WHATEVER I DON’T LIKE YOU AND YOUR STUPID LEATHER FACE ANYWAY.

Nick and Chelsie go on a yacht date, and Chelsie decides that this is what it must be like to be “Usher or Beyoncé.” HOW DARE YOU COMPARE YOURSELF TO BEYONCÉ. HOW DARE YOU, MADAM.

beyonce-no

They tool around on the yacht for a while and while Chelsie is busy imagining that this is the beginning of their love story, Nick is explaining that as soon as he gets off this yacht, he’s going to resume pursuing LacePants, now that Cleetus is out of the picture, because Dansome who?

However, his work is cut out for him, because back at Casa de Soltero, Dansome and LacePants are having fascinating discussions about food they like to eat. I can totally see why everyone is so captivated by this riveting conversationalist.

The next new Reject arrives, Mackenzie from Farmer Teeth’s season, or Collards as I originally called her as she named her son “Kale.” As in roughage. I then renamed her “Wet Poodle” on account of her hair looking like a wet poodle, but I’m happy to report that her hair has grown out some, and is less damp canine-like, so we shall return to “Collards.”

Collards is armed with a date card instructing her to ask a man out whom she could “see a future with,” and she decides this must mean her date has something to do with aliens.

aliens

Collards is advised to ask out The Golden Retriever because he has a kid, too? Apparently? Which I somehow didn’t know? Whatever. The point is, she asks The Golden Retriever out on her date much to Amber’s chagrin, even though Amber wasn’t really into The Golden Retriever until she had no other options.

So Collards and The Golden Retriever go to some spot in the jungle where they discover a fire pit, some ropes, herbs, robes and other alien paraphernalia.

aliens

Eventually, a shaman emerges from the trees, and instructs them, in Spanish, to take off their clothes, not that either of these two dummies have any idea what he is saying.

dug up baroo confused.gif

Eventually they strip down to their underthings, and through a series of complicated communications with the shaman that involving pointing and charades (and producers telling them off-camera), the two dummies proceed to smear mud all over each other, wrap the ropes around their necks, cover themselves in the robes and then kiss when so instructed. And that’s when the shaman announces, “TA-DA, YOU DUMMIES ARE MARRIED. ¡FELICITACIONES!”

And poor Collards thinks that she and The Golden Retriever are now something called “Mexican married,” and when they return to Casa de Soltero, she won’t shut up about it. That, and the fact that she believes mermaids are real. She also won’t shut up about mermaids and how she thinks mermaids are real. The Golden Retriever busily plots their “Mexican divorce.”

That evening, another Lady Reject arrives, Jaclyn from Ben the Wine Guy’s season, or “Picasso Face” as I might have called her on account of her broken face. However, it would seem that since we saw Picasso Face last she’s had a few, let’s call them, touch-ups. She arrives squeezed into a romper that is so tight and ill-fitting, that I am certain her nipples are going to make a break for it at any moment and Olivia Munn’s Black Box is going to have to be dragged out of retirement. She also arrives bearing a date card and a willingness to steal anybody’s boyfriend.

didn't come her to make friends

To that end, she sets her sights on Cousin Max, saying that he has “potentish.”

“POTENTISH.”

POTENTISH.

i can't rupaul.gif

Anyway, she begins chatting Cousin Max up, which does not go unnoticed by Khaste Kardashian who decides she has to do something lest this broken-faced monster in an ill-fitting jumper steals the man who has already dumped her 6 or 7 times now. So Khaste marches out to Chris Harrison and demands a fantasy suite date for that night, and he just gives her one? Because apparently that’s a thing you can just ask for on this show? I DEMAND A COPY OF THE RULES, HARRISON.

Whatever. The point is, Khaste Kardashian comes stomping back into Casa de Soltero with her overnight date card and invites Cousin Max before Picasso Face even knows what hits her in her off-center face. Cousin Max agrees, essentially announcing to the collected Rejects that he is prepared to “take [Khaste’s] V-Card.” Khaste Kardashian hurries off to put on her Slutty Sandy from Grease outfit, and burble happily to the producers that she’s ready for Cousin Max to “know [her] on the inside.”

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And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go wash my eyes out with tequila and spend a few hours contemplating where it all went so wrong.

Bachelor in Paradise airs Sundays and Mondays at 7 p.m. on ABC. Los santos and tequila preserve me.

This post originally appeared on the Hearst site Chron.com.

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