The Bachelor S24 E08: Little Hometowns of Horror
You’d think that, with a Hometowns recipe like this one, we’d have the makings of an incredible episode:
1 Part Psychotic Victoria F
1 Part Dramatic Reveal from Ex-Girlfriend
1 Part Axe Throwing
1 Part Legitimately Haunted-Doll Dad
1 Part Wild Religious Fanaticism
1 Part Charles Barkley
You would be wrong. You’d be Blockbuster-Not-Partnering-With-Netflix levels wrong. You’d be Calling-the-Titanic-Unsinkable levels wrong. You’d be We-Can-Totally-Survive-the-Russian-Winter-Right-Fellow-Nazis levels wrong.
You’d be so wrong you’d begin to loathe yourself for even allowing one brief moment of hope in this godforsaken franchise.
Let’s dive in!
Hometown 1: Hannah Ann Hurls Axes in Knoxville, TN
We kick off our first Hometown with Hannah Ann basically calling Peter a gigantic fucking pussy. That’s right, rather than show him anything of actual substance or meaning to her life, she drags our pathetic pilot off for a spot of axe throwing—because “it’s really important that I can prove to my dad that this California boy is tough,” and she needs to “make a man” out of him.
Sadly, no contestants were hurt in the making of this date (ABC)
Hannah Ann. Honey.
Peter’s not a big manly man. Peter’s not even much of a man. Sure, he can fuck in windmills, but he looks like a really tall 13-year-old, with emotional depth levels to match. Trying to make Peter “manly” would be like trying to make me a curvy 4’10” Latina instead of a freckly 5’8” Jew. It just can’t happen. The laws of physics have their limitations, and there’s no plastic surgeon with that kind of ability out there.
Hannah Ann seems to think if they throw enough axes at a wall, somehow this will turn Peter into the testosterone-dripping suitor her logging father will want. There’s a lot to unpack here, but I haven’t had nearly enough vodka for that right now.
All of this seems to have the exact opposite of Hannah Ann’s intentions, however, when this then inspires Peter to frantically scribble out a love letter to her. I imagine the letter just had Mr. Sluss scribbled everywhere on it, with a plethora of hearts.
When it’s time to meet the family, they all seem rather unenthused. I mean, they cry a lot—a LOT—when they see Hannah Ann, but I think that’s because they were afraid she really would end up with Peter and they’d just run off together.
Even when Hannah’s sister tells Peter to name all the trees in the yard to prove his worthiness, the entire thing just feels as yawn-inducing as a nice melatonin overdose. I don’t give a fuck about tree trivia, I don’t give a fuck about Peter, and I don’t give a fuck about this date.
At the end of the night, Peter and Hannah Ann profess their love for each other, which means she’s totally not winning this season. Peter then jumps in the car bound for his hotel, and literally—I repeat, literally—says “All I’ve wanted is that validation.”
Ladies and gentlemen, Peter.
Hometown 2: Kelsey Stomps Grapes in Des Moines, IA.
Jesus, do I hate Kelsey. Not the way I hate Victoria F (that’s more a visceral, rage-inducing, blindly flailing kind of hate) but she’s still just fucking terrible. She’s fucking terrible. This is the woman that spent multiple episodes sobbing because the Producers tricked Hannah Ann into accidentally took her champagne. This is the woman that spent almost every single episode telling the other women she wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, as she was uncontrollably sobbing. This is the woman who did all of this, without having a discernible personality, all the while—you guessed it—sobbing.
Seriously, outside of tears and emotional instability, who the fuck is Kelsey? What does she like to do? What does she want out of life? What are her goals?
Why am I asking? I don’t fucking care.
So off we go to Des Moines, which Kelsey has the audacity to call a “city.” They go to a winery and stomp on grapes to make some delicious vino, which is made all the more delicious when we’re treated to extreme closeups of Kelsey’s feet. I was so horrified I had to stop drinking wine and switch to straight vodka.
Now THIS is what I call chemistry, people (ABC)
After Kelsey sadly fails to fall out of the grapes barrel (shoutout to all my early Millennials) our outrageously boring twosome trot off to casa de Kelsey, where Peter LOSES HIS FUCKING MIND over crab rangoons. CRAG RANGOONS. Peter’s a jet setting pilot, yet didn’t have his first bite of crag rangoons until he goes to fucking Des Moines?
And that’s literally it. That’s literally it. That’s the entire date.
Hometown 3: Madison Has A Demonic-Puppet Father in Auburn, AL
Okay, before we get into the actual date, we have to talk about Madison’s father.
WHAT IS HE. WHO IS HE. WHAT FORCES CONSPIRED TO CREATE THIS MONSTROSITY?
Her father alternatively looks like three kids stacked in a trench coat (aka Victor Adultman—thanks, Twitter friends, for the incredible reference), a possessed Howdy Doody Doll, and an angry, brimstone-spewing baby reverend. I’ve had soul-crushing nightmares featuring creatures far more palatable than Papa Prewett, and yet no one around him seemed disturbed by this.
It’s also wild to me that this man (?) is an outrageously religious zealot who places his daughter’s virginity on a gleaming pedestal. He must be a demon in disguise, right?
Anyway, before we walk right back into that nightmare, let’s first skip over to the Auburn University stadium for a little game of ball. Somewhere, Hannah B shrieks into the night.
Madison schools Peter hilariously on the court, while he flails like only an awkward white man can. It’s pretty clear that Peter’s never actually worked out a day in his life, right?
So much for Hannah Ann’s efforts (ABC)
Charles Barkley, apparently in dire need of money, shows up in a video on the Jumbotron to dispense some advice to Peter—who I’m pretty sure has no idea who Charles Barkley is. Then the Auburn head coach shows up, because he’s Madison’s dad’s boss! That’s right, even the date is just covered in Madison’s dad. Goooooo, Tigers!
Still reeling from all that exertion, Peter and Madison are carted off to Maison Prewett, where I miss most of the date because I’m too busy screaming. WHAT IS IT ABOUT HER FATHER AND WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME
Anyway, there’s an absurd tradition where Madison gets the “special plate” and they all say something nice about her, because Madison is 5, apparently. Peter thinks this is all perfectly fine, because he still lives with his equally psychotic and overbearing parents. Maybe these two crazy kids can make it work.
Madison then discusses her virginity and the fact that she’s waiting until marriage to have sex with literally everyone…including Peter.
Meanwhile, Peter listens to Madison’s sentient sleep paralysis demon wax pointedly on about her purity.
Okay so.
Here’s the thing.
Last season, during Hannah B’s reign, we had some serious, serious issues with sex and religion. Let me reiterate for the 14th million time that organized religion—especially something as insidious as good ‘ol Southern Christianity—is built on a platform of extreme misogyny, shame, and manipulation. In this world, women are to remain pure for their fathers and the men around them. They are to crush their own sexual wants and needs, they are to pretend like they feel no desire, and they are taught from an early age to feel endless shame over their own thoughts and natural urges.
Add into the mix that Madison is TWENTY-FUCKING-THREE and it just makes it all worse. Here is a young woman living in such broiling shame that she can’t even tell the man she wants to get engaged to that she’s a virgin and that she wants to wait until marriage for sex.
Waiting until marriage for sex is fine. Waiting until love for sex is fine. Waiting until like for sex is fine. Waiting until the second drink of your first Tinder date with Steve for sex is fine. Whenever you want to get freaky, get fucking freaky.
But for someone like Madison, that choice isn’t hers. She thinks it is, because her father and his ilk have manipulated her so deeply, so carefully, that she truly believes this is her own decision. But it’s also causing her anguish, confusion, shame, and the concerning inability to actually communicate with someone she is—once more—literally thinking about getting engaged to in like, a week.
While having that conversation could be awkward or difficult, not having it shows the complicated mess of religious pressure, uncertainly, and immaturity that we have here. Not just with Madison, but with Peter as well.
Madison has no business being on this season, with a lead best known for fucking Hannah B four times in a windmill. Pete has no business with a religious 23 year old that’s too afraid and insecure to even address this issue. Neither of them are bad people, and I’m not knocking Madison for her views, but this isn’t normal dating—it’s manipulation on every level.
Hometown 4: Victoria F Gaslights the Fuck Outta Peter in Virginia Beach, VA
The fact that Victoria F is still here—and that we just had to reckon with the knowledge that something like Madison’s father can exist in this reality—proves once and for all that there is no god.
Peter meets his screeching succubus on the beach with her dog, where she pretends to love said dog, but then completely ignores it when it begins flailing concerningly in the water behind her. (Spoiler Alert: The dog is fine, thank god.)
The classic JOTLWYLAHWAKHM (ABC)
The two then skip off to a Hunter Hayes concert, where, shockingly, it’s not revealed that Victoria either slept with him and/or ruined his marriage.
It’s a bland and boring date, which far less scream-sobbing than anticipated. UNTIL.
That’s right, kids, who swoops in but Peter’s ex, Merissa! Who happens to live there in Virginia Beach, and used to be friends with Victoria F! And who happens to be one of the locals that reached out to Producers to let them know how Victoria F is pure evil!
Masterful editing courtesy of ABC
The scene is MASSIVELY watered down, which is very, very disappointing, but Merissa does warn Peter that Victoria F has broken up several relationships, and is an all-around Horrible Fucking Human.
Reeling from this news, Peter staggers over to Fuller House, where he confronts Victoria F outside. VF IMMEDIATELY goes into full-on gaslighting mode, crying and refusing to answer Peter’s pointed questions, and turning this all around on Peter.
Victoria F is the fucking worst. She’s Luke P in a wig, minus the religion but with a plethora of home wrecking. Both are wildly manipulative, deeply emotionally abusive, and so deluded they actually believe their own bullshit. And, because the Producers couldn’t give a flying fuck for the wellbeing of anyone even remotely attached to this franchise, they just let it happen. Gleefully. On national TV. To the great humiliation and mental trauma of their leads. Hooray!
Anyway, shit gets so ridiculous that Peter up and leaves, not bothering to even go meet VF’s family. Now, here is when any sane individual would break things the fuck off with VF, but Peter? Sane? Nay. When VF comes a’ rapping first thing the next morning on Peter’s chamber door, he lets her in and decides to keep her around.
Once again, kids. There is no god.
Until next week!
