The main event in Erinsborough last week was the proverbial finally hitting the fan with Shane and his drug use, but there were a few other notable events as well, so here is my round-up of last week’s UK episodes.
Dipi is a Chronic Hypocrite
Shane might be a drug addict, but I think Dipi might be addicted to being a hypocrite, something which I’ve had a beef with her about before. After she finds out at the world’s most awkward anniversary dinner that Shane has a drug habit she is understandably devastated, as anybody would be, but I’m judging her pretty hard on how she reacted afterwards. She’s giving Shane no support or sympathy, just anger and judgement. Before Shane goes to rehab, he asks her for some hope that they will be able to work it out and she sends him packing with barely a word, aside from telling him that she can’t forgive him. So, is it any wonder that he hasn’t contacted her from rehab? Is it any wonder that he’s turned to Toadie, who reacted to his situation with a bit of compassion? Dipi is being a drama queen and she’s making this all about her, and I’m not here for it.
Hendrix and Richie Declare War
I’m a big fan of Hendrix and Richie these days, and I absolutely love the two of them getting all puffed up about who’s girlfriend is the best now that Harlow and Mackenzie are running against each other for the environmental councillor role. When they were facing off at each other, Richie’s comeback of, “Your face doesn’t make sense,” was the line of the week. More of these two idiots, please.
Nicolette Is Turning Into Mini-Paul
Last week I said that Nicolette and Paul should join their evil powers together to become some sort of villain super team, and it could be happening! Nicolette takes a move directly out of Paul’s playbook as she decides to interfere in her mum’s love life and summon poor old Des back to Erinsborough again. That is a serious Paul Robinson move and I am taking it as proof that she is basically a female Paul, and that it’s only a matter of time before we have an evil dream team in Erinsborough. Anyway, Des ends up flying all the way across the country for a sentimental chat that could absolutely have been done over the phone or on Zoom but hey, at least this time he didn’t get flattened by a gazebo.
Toadie’s New Assistant is Up to Something
I’ve said this before – but for a lawyer Toadie really isn’t very observant or perceptive. He’s working out of a hotel room, for some long and convoluted reason that I instantly forgot, and he’s in utter chaos and in desperate need of a new assistant. He ends up hiring Rose mostly because of what weird Australian kicksports team she supports, which is probably not the best reason to hire a legal assistant, but this is Toadie so it’s kind of par for the course. Rose is a weird one, and she seems to fluctuate between this giggly perma-smile persona and something altogether more sinister, and she’s already been trying to hack into Toadie’s computer. It also becomes clear within about thirty seconds of her starting her first day that her skills begin and end with being able to fetch a latte from Harold’s. Toadie, a qualified lawyer, doesn’t seem to notice but Mackenzie, a schoolgirl, notices immediately and wastes no time catching Rose in the act of having to google how to do basic tasks. Rose spins some nonsense about being left behind by technology while she took time out from work to look after her kids, but I don’t believe her. She was having trouble with a spreadsheet, and Microsoft Excel was released in 1985, so that begs the question of exactly how many kids did she have? That is some pretty gnarly maternity leave right there.
What is it with the Neighbours Writers and Cakes?
So we had Ned putting his bum into a cake, and then we had Mackenzie getting an anniversary cake for Shane and Dipi and it coming in the shape of a pair of boobs by accident. I’m not kinkshaming anyone, but it does make me think that someone on the Neighbours writing team has some sort of cake fetish. The most disturbing part of the entire sorry situation was Dr Karl’s willingness to spend actual money on the cake when he realised it was going to go to waste. For someone as terminally tightfisted as Karl, I truly dread to think why he wanted a boob cake desperately enough to put his hand in his pocket.
I cannot wait for the next saucy cake to make an appearance in Erinsborough…
