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Pop CultureOctober 30, 2017

Married at First Sight NZ Power Rankings – Everything has gone down the toilet

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Alex Casey power ranks the fifth week of Married at First Sight NZ, including wrestling, a new type of pavlova and a severe toilet scare.

It only took five weeks for me to realise that the inner workings of Andy’s rancid flat is basically the perfect symbol for the Married at First Sight NZ couples. Some relationships are like when Mr Pigglesworth stole the toothpaste and ran through the kitchen – exciting, surprising, full of potential. Others are like when flatmate Neil left a big poo in the toilet: unsightly, horrifying, in urgent need of being flushed away and never spoken of again.

Call the police

As several of the couples continue to squabble over texts and toasters and their very legal and daunting television marriages, the experts brought in the “surrender date” to strengthen their relationships before home visits. This meant that one person got to call the shots for the whole day, and the other person just had to suck it up and deal with whatever they had planned.

Spoiler alert: it did not go well and I’m beginning to think the experts might be evil TV geniuses.

Surrender now or prepare to… divorce

But more about that later and even more of it on The Real Pod, our own reality TV podcast that you should probably listen to right now if you are at all MAFSNZ-inclined:

For now, let us make like Vicky with the Janola wipes and scrub away at the mouldy shower that is week five on Married at First Sight NZ.


Really cohesive branding here.

Happy two week anniversary Brett and Angel, and congratulations on still being happier together than maybe any two humans I’ve ever met. Another huge relationship milestone came this week as Brett opened up about living with Type 1 diabetes and showed Angel how to test her blood sugar levels. Very blessed that they’re only two weeks in and already letting everything hang loose at the dinner table. Love it. 

“I’d rather be cruising the river than riding the rapids,” metaphor queen Angel later declared, as the pair headed to their respective home towns to laugh and laugh and buy ice-cream and laugh some more. Brett didn’t have much to worry about, because Angel’s Dad could “get along with a goldfish.” The worst it ever got was when Brett had to draw Angel’s family tree on a blackboard, and managed this monstrosity. The man works in wood! How the hell is this his idea of a tree?! Maybe he… is… a goldfish???

But who really cares if Brett can’t draw trees, because these here relationship roots are STRONG. Is Angel going to move to Lincoln tomorrow? Is she going to become an apprentice at Woodpecker Signs? Is that apprenticeship going to lead to them whittling down a wooden child of their own? I can’t be sure, but the answer to all these questions is: yes.


I have lost count of how many times Bel and Haydn have broken up, moved out, left the competition and then returned. They are stuck in an endless purgatory worse than Lost, where the smoke monsters are secret DMs and The Others are married women who live across the hall. We found out that they had agreed on a “no communication” policy with the other contestants, but that Haydn had long betrayed that pact to hold a secret telethon of his own. Cue customary sad log of despair.

These two are nowhere near ready for a home visit, with Haydn leaving the couples’ apartment and returning home where he can put wear his shoes on the bed, eat a big bloody steak and enjoy some moving sheep art.

man cave alert

Through some mysterious means, the pair then spent a few days “off experiment” before returning in front of the camera for The Genetic Pitbull’s wrestling match. “I’m so glad you’re here with me”, said a nervous Bel to Haydn’s glum Dad. “Who tf are you?” said Haydn’s Dad.

Say what you will about Haydn, but the man can definitely wrestle in small short inside a sparsely-populated hall. Nobody is denying that. Not even me.

Crazy moves by Mr Genetic Worldwide


Vicky and Andrew’s surrender date this week was like watching an actual horror film, with Vicky delightedly dragging Andrew to Jigsaw’s lair Dry & Tea for a much-anticipated haircut. You know, just a fun, caring non-shallow day out for a loving couple. I have never seen Andy so miserable and Vicky so happy.

Andy ended up throwing a full tantrum (known in Latin as “a sooky lala”) and storming out of the salon, throwing the keys at the camera person and spitting that he looked like Johnny Bravo, which seemed kind of generous. Vicky reckoned he’s “always going to play the victim.” I reckon the old pushover Andrew can’t come to the phone right now. Why? BECAUSE HE’S DEAD.

Nek minnit the pair were back together, and Vicky was moving into Andy’s literal pigsty. She was worried about the state of Andy’s bathroom, and it turns out she was right to be VERY AFRAID. Not only was the shower mould the same colour of Andys camo vest, there was a ginormous, shocking, zero-fucks-given turd left by his flatmate Neil in the toilet.

Vicky was in a hell of her own creation, and no amount of bleach could wipe the brazen toilet fright from her memory. “That’s the worst thing I could see”, she said, staring off into the distance like a wizened veteran reliving the atrocities of war.

TFW you saw a poo once

While Vicky got busy scrubbing her eyeballs with Dettol, Mr Pigglesworth the pig done a runner with the Colgate toothpaste and it was maybe the best thing to ever happen on this programme. Also, folks, we’ve just found ourselves a new brand ambassador.

Still panicked about the poo, the pig and everything in between, Andy hit the jewellery store to try and win Vicky back with a lovely Topaz necklace. “SHE LOVES STONES, SHE LOVES HEALING. RIGHT?!?” he barked, struggling to modulate his volume in the small boutique store. Ah yes, Topaz. The stone of honesty, openness and romance. Stare deep into the topaz. Don’t think about the poo. Shhhh. Topaz. Not poo. Only Topaz now.


If Vicky is a war veteran returning home from the abominable toilet scenes, then Ben also deserves a purple heart for staying with Aaron despite finding him repulsive to look at. “It’s something I think about every day” he said, voice quivering, “it’s quite hard.” If you thought that was rough going, how about when he had to go to Christchurch? We always knew geography was going to be one of Ben’s 900,000 dealbreakers, and this paraphrased chat was no exception:

For their surrender date, they headed out to Piha for a spot of canyoning which quickly turned into a lovely Max Key-esque GoPro extravaganza. Ben enjoyed himself and had to eat a slice of humble pie, but not before making Aaron eat a delicious spot of foamy yellow “water pav”. Yum. 

A chef prepares

Unfortunately, Neil’s turd hit the fan again when the pair hosted drinks at their apartment, and Ben left and then never came home. Not just that: he also left Aaron on “Seen” on Facebook for several hours which I think is at least four years in prison. “There’s no fucking hope left” wept Aaron, before becoming hopeful again five minutes later.

Classic Aaron

It was then time for the hometown visits, where Ben spent most of Christchurch scowling except for when he got to eat some Chinese food and drink wine with Aaron’s friends. When the tables turned, Ben’s friends grilled Aaron about how he copes with Ben finding him so nauseatingly unattractive. Now is the time for Aaron to read the signs, aka this sign that clearly says “TAKE THE OWN” aka get the hell out of there.


There’s a song for every occasion, and to mark the end of Mr Fluffy and Claire’s relationship I would like to invite you all to light a candle and crank this as loud as you can.

Ah, the Fluffmeister. Too long he spent alone, padding around his apartment and gorging himself on Gourmet My Food Bag. Of course it was going to fall apart at the seams. Nobody can julienne that many carrots on their own and still be expected not to send a mean text to the person that the text was about.

I blame Nadia Lim, if anything.

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