YOU'D think after all this time cooking and interacting, that the MKR contestants would know how to both cook and get along well.
But no. There's bad food and disharmony brewing down at the ol' AFL-themed fine dining experience.
Who'd have thought things wouldn't go perfectly at a restaurant decorated with inflatable footy players?
It's Mark and Chris's turn to host an ultimate instant restaurant and prove that they bring more to this competition than just bromance, bad jokes, and chuckling.
On the way to the restaurant, Josh openly admits that he considers Mark and Chris one of the
weakest teams in the competition, so would rather they stay in over Tyson and Amy.
An obvious strategy for a jerk at this point might be oh, I don't know - pretending to love everything Mark and Chris cook to increase their chances of knocking the top team out.
If only there was a jerk nearby.
Pretending to love Mark and Chris's food may prove to be quite a job, as their technique seems to be to choose classic Italian dishes and then take away whatever makes them good.
It's enough to put several nonnas in the high-risk category for heart attack.
They take a classic kingfish carpaccio and subtract the flavour.
"Below average" says Tyson.
"I enjoyed it, it's refreshing" says Very Clear Agenda Josh.
They take a classic bolognese ragu and subtract the tomatoes and texture.
"Not an enjoyable dish," says Pete.
"It tasted like dog food," says Amy, raising questions about her past dog food eating experiences.
"I like the flavour," says Obvious Strategy Josh.
You could almost say his strategy is as obvious as dog's … food.
When some diners criticise the extremely overcooked porchetta, Josh has HAD IT with other people stealing his trademark petty negativity, and accuses everyone of nitpicking.
Court, notorious for her elfin sweetness, soft tone, and keen nose for hypocrisy, says what we're all thinking: "Are you f**king serious?!"
Josh. Honey. If you look up "nitpicking" in the dictionary it just has a picture of you, followed by a list of all your faults.
"You're the biggest lowballer that I've sat around this table with" continues Court.
"Sorry Court, I'm actually having a conversation with these guys" Josh responds, showing that his arguing skill marginally surpasses that of a kindergarten debating team.
Sadly for Josh, the table agrees with Court.
Sadly for Amy, she realises that after this is all over, she'll still be married to Josh. Maybe. In a different house. For a bit.
I know! Let's ease the awkwardness by playing a game where the whole table asks Betty why she constantly friend-zones David!
"We've reached a point where it's too disgusting to go there" she explains, playing the callous Lisa Simpson to David's heartbroken Ralph Wiggum.
After some devastating critiques from the judges, by the time Mark and Chris start cooking dessert their main ingredient is swearing.
Despair and self-loathing really work for them though, and they plate up universally popular desserts of fat, cream-filled doughnuts and a boozy sorbet.
At crunch time, the average score most of the other teams give Mark and Chris is 6. The average score the judges give Mark and Chris is 6. The score Josh and Amy give Mark and Chris is 8.
Yet however blatantly Josh tries to diddle the numbers, Mark and Chris still go straight to the bottom of the leaderboard.
Poor Josh. Can't talk, can't cook, can't sway people's opinions.
Hell of a whistler, though.
Jo Thornely is a writer who loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her @JoThornely
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