Dear makers of The Bachelor,
We tried watching your show. We really did. This, despite the fact it gives our feminist hearts palpitations. We persevered because we wanted to try to understand what the hype is all about.
What we found was that watching your show raised many more questions than it answered. So we thought we’d pose them to you:
1. How many chimes died in the making of the show?
2. Can two of the contestants get together, take the last rose and poke it in the Bach’s eye?
3. Were the chickens and the geese auditioned?
4. Can Colgate work in a romantic toothbrushing session?
5. How much did Disney’s composer cost?
6. Has the New Zealand Fire Service given the all clear on all those candles?
7. Could basically anyone not competing for Zac’s affection look any more embarrassed?
8. Have the roses been de-thorned? De-earwigged?
9. Which Auckland florist is laughing all the way to the bank?
10. Would it be more realistic if Zac handed out endorsement deals rather than roses?
11. So what does Zac do again?
12. Come to think of it, how did all of these people manage to get leave to appear in a reality TV programme?
13. Have the contestants had their meningococcal jabs?
14. What happens if there’s a technical glitch in the middle of a pash?
15. How many takes does each pash require so you can get multiple angles?
16. Would grapes squished by human feet absorb toe jams and athlete’s foot?
17. Is it weird that Dominic is old enough to be Lily’s father?
18. Is the laundry done by the magical cleaning fairies?
19. What is the average wait time to get into the bathroom in the morning?
20. What on earth is the appeal of this show?
Truth be told, we collectively lasted about 15 minutes. That was all we could manage. As a Villainesse writer who shall remain anonymous explained, “If I watch any more I’m afraid my eyes will burst into spontaneous flames that will burn through my brain and out the back of my head as my melted squishy brain matter drips out my ears, soaks my clothes and eventually pools at my feet. Not gonna risk it.”
Nonetheless, we wish you all the best.
Yours truly (and perplexedly),