Underbelly, A Tale Of Two Cities - Episode 9

Recapped By Darzelle Wixton-Smythe, Who Is Pissed With Ruby Rose For Stealing Four Of Her Tattoo Ideas, And Her Idea To Host MTV.

Two hours. I had to watch this for two hours. I missed like, forty-three of Demi and Ashton’s Twitter updates.

So this week’s episode was mostly about drinking, court, cops, going fishing and going to the toilet, sometimes on people’s shoes. Everybody’s telling on everybody else, nobody trusts anyone, and everyone’s hair is getting bigger. It’s like a humid day in a western suburbs primary school.

A diver finds Merrick Watts’ body in a lake, and he’s really got a face for radio. Scottish Napoleon Dynamite totally can’t have sex whenever he thinks about Merrick, which only makes him like everybody else in the whole world hahahahaha! Except for Mrs Merrick, who’s pregnant right now, but she probably only got pregnant so she could ruin that joke. Bee-yotch.

Matthew Newton accidentally spills something on Hot Bitch Lawyer and then gets arrested. He offers the British cops half a mullion dollars and the creepiest smile ever, but they refuse both and give him some overalls to wear. Hot Bitch Lawyer has to go to jail in her undies, because this show is stupid.

Bob Trimboli has to wee a lot, and his doctor tells him he has prostate cancer. I asked my dad what a prostate was, and he lied and said it was a gland near a man’s bladder that the doctor checks by putting fingers up his bum. Yeah, right Dad. Is that like you telling me there’s an Easter Bunny, or that there other members of the Jackson family? The doctor also tells Bob that he has a Lebanese contact who wants to sell hash in the Antipodes, who I think is a Greek bloke.

The frumpy waitress at the Grotty Capri should start buying her blouses from somewhere else. Mank. Bob tells her he has to leave the country and BTW he has cancer. K thx bye! He gets through customs because they’re all using Commodore 64s.

There’s loads and loads of police interviews and trials and inquests and stuff this week, and I got a bit confused. Everybody seems to go to London and then to Sydney, Alison goes from a laundromat in Miami to a crappy motel in Sydney, and one of the cops from the Hot Squad brings her some fish and chips, which I reckon is really insensitive. Like, if you want to insult a New Zealander, you just tell them they have sex with sheep – you don’t have to get all linguistically obvious with their dinner and stuff.

Fugly cop Smith totally looks like a monkey when he eats a banana, Y/N?

For some reason the older brother from The Castle is in this show now, and Bob Trimboli wants him to find a couple of trucks to transport drugs in. I bet you anything he finds them in the Trading Post.

After some interviews, phone-tapping and research, the Hot Squad find out that Bob Trimboli is the rhizomic link of criminal activity between all significant players. Like, der.

Dieter Brummer has too many lines now, I reckon. He gets a job with the Hot Squad so he can secretly report back to the corrupt guys in the Fugly Squad. If he doesn’t want to get found out, he should shave off his gross moustache – obviously to be in the Hot Squad, you have to remove all your body hair. That’s how Lady Gaga can wear so many leotards hahahahaha!

Brian the Bad Lawyer doesn’t have a very good time this week. He gets fired, punched, drunk, left by his wife, chucked out of clubs, locked out of his house, snubbed by the gangsters, snubbed by the police, and handcuffed to an oven at the bottom of the ocean. Dude should totally have checked his horoscope before he left the house, or at least listened to the soundtrack. Everybody knows that as soon as you hear Pachelbel’s Canon, you’re pretty much going to bite it. In like, slow motion.

Next week Alison’s hair and Matthew Newton’s stare get bigger, and The Mumbler returns. Dieter Brummer gets in a spa, which would’ve been hot in Home And Away, but not so much now. Shave, dude.

Okay, it’s school holidays, and I’ve got new shoes. Obviously I have to go and do some underage drinking. See you later.