TOWIE catch up: Tensions run higher than Arg's cholesterol levels at Abi's murder mystery party and Nanny Pat gets a lapdance

TOWIE catch up: Tensions run higher than Arg's cholesterol levels at Abi's murder mystery party and Nanny Pat gets a lapdance

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Joey Essex has been going through a whole TOWIE series’ worth of emotional growth and change, but he’s coming out the other side. He’s having his hair cut just like a big boy - he’s not crying, even though the sharp scissors are going quite near his ears, and there’s a strong chance he’ ll get shampoo in his eyes during the hair wash.

However, Arg is not able to deal with life events with the same amount of emotional maturity - he’s not being gentlemanly about his recent encounter with Gemma Collins.

“I don’t want to say too much because I don’t want to upset Gemma, but I’ve completed my first Bushtucker Trial!” Arg, there are absolutely no circumstances under which it is OK to compare a lady’s intimate area to a wichety grub.

Abi is planning her birthday party, and she has to make a decision about the most important part of any Essex gathering - the theme. As they’ve already covered diamante, illegal ferret gambling and the papal inauguration, only one party topic is still available - murder.

Diags is hoping he can use the party as an excuse for a bunk up, but then he’d be trying to score some sexy sleeping arrangements if he got sent to a POW camp. He tells Abi that because it’s her birthday “we’ll probably share a room” - because he won’t be her boyfriend, but he will share his nighttime flatulence and morning breath with her on her special day.

Tom confronts Jasmin on the alleged snogging of Dan. Did she? “N-ny-es!” she giggles, possibly because she’s unable to hear what’s being directed into her earpiece.

Lucy is confronting Dan about the chain of events - did he kiss Jasmin? Did he know his ex was pregnant? Dan denies everything entirely convincingly - one suspects he’s been studying videos of Mario in order to do the opposite - and just as he’s gained her trust, a girl emerges from the changing room curtains, having been trying on frocks to the so undtrack of their argument, which must be even less relaxing than trying to buy clothes from Miss Selfridge in the late nineties when they had communal changing rooms.

Carol Wright is having a wedding vow renewal, which can only mean one thing - second hen night! “Nan, do you want a stripper?” Jess asks the Queen of the Brentwood Sausage Plait. “I haven’t had one for years,” replies Nanny Pat, who isn’t clear what the drill is any more, and isn’t sure which extras are sixpence and which have gone up to a shilling.

Ferne has gone to Minnie’s to complain about her lot as the estranged girlfriend of a Corleone wannabe. “I’ve said I’m sorry for all my flaws and my negatives. What’s he going to do, dump me?” Ferne, my love, that’s almost definitely what he’s going to do. And it would be a fine thing. Has he ever apologised for all his flaws and negatives? He can’t claim that he’s waiting for Hallmark to come out with the card that say s “I’m sorry I’m a verbally unpleasant, uncommunicative agress-humpher who is rude about your friends and wardrobe choices,” because he could just order a bespoke one from Funky Pigeon Dot Com.

Oily James arrives and manages to spill something affirmative about the Dan/Jasmin kiss before demanding to know what Sam’s intentions are. He doesn’t want to waste his time. Of course, James is a busy man! Launderettes to frequent, shop walls to lean on  - he’s a human Taz of energy and activity. Sam tells him she’s ‘not ready’ and ‘wants to be friends’ - all the expressions that are code for “I wouldn’t touch yours if it was made out of delicious burrito fixings” and suddenly James wants to be ‘just friends’ too.

“I’m glad everyone’s on the same page!” cries Ferne, mistress of deadpan subtlety. Or obliviousness.

Gemma: Crying again, about something

 

Joey is very anxious about Jasmin’s party. “So tonight, if someone’s going to get murdered, then someone will definitely get caught.” Weirdly, Joey seems more upset about the legal ramifications than the fact that if he attends the party, there’s an unusually high chance that he will die.

Tom is kind, and doesn’t laugh when explaining it’s a game, and suggests they forget their troubles with a sing song. They’re half way some well choreographed seat moves when Arg shows up with a half-eaten takeaway for them. Arg is failing to defend Gemma’s honour, and planning a Twitter romance with someone who calls herself ‘100 per cent Peachy Nessa’. Is there a Geldof child that we didn’t know about?

Bentley is being checked into the pooch palace, for his own safety, ahead of Essex murder night.

“This place is, like, five stars!” brags Mario.

“Wow! How much is it a night?” asks Little Chris.

“£29” replies the lady at the till. Perhaps dog pounds are like dog years - a human one equals eleventy billion of them. Mario is a little concerned about the fact that Dan and Oily James will be in attendence.

“Karma, mate, is a dish best served cold,” claims Chris, which  is worryingly Zen, coming from someone who is supposed to be one of Mario’s henchman. Unless he means korma, and is hoping Arg has left him some takeaway. Fat chance.

To be honest, going to a party where you might actually get murdered looks more palatable than hopping on the big pink bus and attending Carole’s second hen do. A fireman stripper arrives, dances about in his pants for all of three seconds, and disappears again, leaving a distressed Billie to scream “WHERE WAS THE WILLY?” as Nanny Pat blinks back disappointment and sips something off brand and fizzy from a penis shaped straw.

“I’ll go to bed and dream about it” says Pat, always stoic in the face of misery. If she likes that sort of thing, someone needs to tell her about the internet.

Joey: Managing not to cry

 

At the murder party, tensions are running higher than Arg’s cholesterol level. Mario’s character may or may not have been lying. “It’s not like you to lie, Mario. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHACKCKCKCKBLEURGH!” cackles Arg, almost ending himself with his own hilarity, and then, without missing a beat, asking if he can finish some steak.

Dan thinks the murderer is Mario, AKA Hugo Furst, because “you’re sneaky as f***”. Lauren Pope pops up to agree, even though she’s been mysteriously absent throughout the whole episode and must have been hidden under the table for the first two courses. Accusations fly between Dan and Mario, and Joey’s face lights up as if his minicab to Stansted is a street away and he’s just found his passport.

“I’ve just realised this is like real life!” he cries. Poor Joey - you’d only just got your head around the bits that weren’t real.

The hen do is all going to plan - they’re in a club, wearing bunny ears and looking a bit miserable. Jess meets a man called Anthony, and seems to be getting on well with him despite Lucy, Sam and Bobby spying and whispering encouragement as if they’re a pair of pandas and one has a semi.

“I haven’t seen her smile this much in weeks!” cheers Lucy. Yes, that’s because she’s having a nice chat with a guy who doesn’t prod her every four seconds and say “Are you feeling really sad? Do you want to cry now?”

Lucy reveals it’s all going well with Max. Who’s Max? Oh, that Max. The Max whose record Sam is dancing to, while elbowing Lucy and making lewd gestures.

Dan: Nice guys don't cry

 

Back at Chateau Murbs, Mario has taken Joey aside to say he’s seen Sam holding hands with some blond guy. “I thought you should know,” he mutters, with the faux concern of the true misery connoisseur. Then Oily James pitches up to “clear the air” and chat to Joey about his brilliant connection with Sam, which is the biggest lie of the series.

Joey doesn’t cry, which, weirdly, makes me feel a bit weepy and emotional. He doesn’t even mention bloody monkeys.  The tears are reserved for Gemma, who tells Arg she is too vulnerable to be flirted with and/or made fun of. She must be upset, because she almost dislodges a false lash.

And Jasmin accuses Dan of lying about the kiss, and lying about being a nice person. “If we’re friends, we talk about normal things, not what happened a couple of months ago,” grumbles Dan. Ah, Dan. Eleven episodes in Essex, and you haven’t learned a thing.

Next time!

Joey is finally able to watch the T aggart box set he got for his birthday, safe in the knowledge that all the “mordors” aren’t real.

Arg meets Nessa and discovers she has used Twitter to create a false identity - she is only 98 per cent peachy.

Nanny Pat isn’t seen for weeks, but there’s a BT Broadband van parked outside her house on most days.