James Weir recaps The Bachelor 2018 episode 12

HEARTBROKEN and drunk, a shattered Bachelor contestant has been eliminated from the mansion and sloppily begged Nick to change his mind while struggling to stay upright.

We’ve all been there, no one’s judging. Heartbreak’s tough. And sometimes, after consuming various unattended drinks you’ve found, it seems perfectly sane to beg the person who just rejected you to instead be in love with you before crawling into an Uber and ranting to a GoPro.

It’s a tale as old as time.

Decision day looms and you’ve got to give your all if you want to hang around. On Thursday night, we segue into the first date — figuratively but also literally there’s a segway.

We don’t really pay attention to this activity. All we know is there’s a race and it involves segways — the whitest form of transport.

Brittany is losing when an opportunity suddenly presents itself. It’s do or die. With a split second to make the choice, she snatches it. We’re all waiting at the finish line when we see her body fling off the segway and land in the rubble. A cloud of dust puffs up from the dirt track. “She fell! I think she’s hurt!” one girl screams.

But it wasn’t a fall. It was a leap. A strategic, calculated leap of faith that just might win her some extra time with Nick. Bold move, Brittany with two Ts.

She stays committed to the cause even while she’s being stretchered into a clearing and hoisted into the air by the Royal Flying Doctor Service.

I’ve been really disappointed the past 24 hours knowing that, after Jamie-Lee’s exit last night, we no longer have a contestant wearing a ginormous moonboot. Thankfully, Brittany is wrapped in a plaster body-cast.

After we all use textas to write rude messages on Brittany’s body-cast, Nick awards some one-on-one time to Brooke. No one’s happy. Particularly Shannon, who sulks in the bushes.

“I feel gipped,” she mumbles. Jealousy seethes, and it’s only a matter of time before she takes it out on someone. Maybe this evening at the cocktail party.

While we wait for the drama to unfold, Nick goes on a terrific date with Emily. We haven’t seen much of Emily and this is her very first date. She’s lovely! And she has a slight accent! Make her feel welcome.

She’s confident, smart and effortlessly pretty without being high maintenance. She would make a delightful girlfriend for Nick and should be a frontrunner. But he’s not interested.

“I wasn’t feeling it,” he shrugs.

This isn’t good enough. We’re so annoyed we grab Emily — who’s still wearing a tutu — by the arm and march her offstage as if she has just been given a highly commended at the local Eisteddfod when we know she sure as hell should’ve placed first. Like true stage mums, our rage swings from the judges and comes back to hit Emily in the car ride on the way back to the mansion. “You should’ve tried harder!” we yell at her. “You embarrassed me and yourself!”

When we arrive at the cocktail party, all the girls notice Emily is returning without a rose.

“Come on, tell them why you didn’t get a rose,” we hiss at her while fumbling around the tiki bar and pouring various spirits into a crystal tumbler. She begins to cry. As we flop down onto a cane daybed, we send her to her room to rehearse more so this doesn’t happen again.

It’s around this time news comes that the final single date of the series will be given out tonight. It sends the girls into a meltdown and they line up to drag Nick away.

Shannon is determined to reignite the connection she felt with him on their first date. But Nick seems hesitant.

“How are you feeling towards something … further … than this?” he stumbles.

“I’m feeling very optimistic. If we were to end up somewhere we could really empower each other to be the best version of ourselves,” she beams. It’s all very earnest and we can see she’s in love.

Based on this three minute interaction, she’s convinced she nailed it and has Nick wrapped around her finger.

“Our conversation was really awesome!” she tells us.

But that’s the thing about The Bachelor mansion. The moment you think you’ve succeeded, failure decides to call.

Nick gives the final single date card to Sophie. Shannon’s just metres away on the patio and her crushing defeat ends in Serena Williams tears.

“I really like him,” she sobs to the others. “I thought we had a really nice conversation! I came here to find love. And I’ve done all I can. I don’t want to do this right now.”

The whole night, we’ve been picking up random unattended drinks on the patio and handing them to Shannon. “Drink this!” we’d offer excitedly. “Now drink this blue one!”

Missing out on the single date hits Shannon in the guts and she strops off — trudging from the patio, through the mansion, down the hallway and out the front door. We convince her to compose herself and return for the rose ceremony. “You’re in with a chance!” we lie. Yes it’s mean but with no more mean girls left someone has to show initiative and create the drama.

Shannon doesn’t get the rose. And this is where the unravelling really begins. It has been a long night. These booze-fuelled cocktail parties go for hours, wearing down your sanity and stripping you of good judgment. By evening’s end, you’re drunk, sleepy and could smash about a dozen hashbrowns. No one’s their best self in these dark hours. The heartbreak tips Shannon over the edge.

Nick guides her out to the driveway.

“Shaz, this environment is hard,” he says, letting her down easy.

Shannon’s convinced she can persuade him to change his mind. But it’s too late for beggy, slurred pleas.

“Ya … ya haven’t got to know meee,” she whines. “I was hangin’ onto shit, maaan. Ya shoulda given it another day. We woulda made a great couple.”

She seems sloshed but we’re totally not judging. We’ve been mixing spirits in crystal tumblers all night while pretending to be stage mums, so we’re just as messy by this point.

“I’m obviously not the one. But I can assure you, a girl in there is gonna fulfil every little nook and cranny that you need,” she slurs, gripping Nick by the shoulders.

It’s hard to watch. Here’s exclusive footage of me witnessing it.

Nick tries to wrap it up and pack Shannon into the limo but she continues ranting while squinting and waving her arms.

“You shoulda just kissed me. Honeeeey. I regret it myself,” she drools.

Thud, the door shuts. But we’re not done. Shannon’s still drunk and there are cameras in the back of the car.

“I feel reaaally disappointed. I thought I knew … what he was looking for. Obviously I had no clue,” she gargles.

She’s crushed. Shattered. The ache inside her heart is one she has never felt before. Sympathy and understanding is what she needs right now.

We lean around from the front passenger seat.

“You embarrassed me and yourself,” we scold.

For more observations on local eisteddfods and drinking irresponsibly, follow me on Twitter and Facebook: @hellojamesweir

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