Made In Chelsea 15.6: Mark Francis Is On The Decks, Sam Prince Makes Us Vexed And Jemima And Miles Have…A Very Nice Time

This week, the producers open Made In Chelsea by putting us all in an extremely awkward position, challenging us with a very funny visual gag that relies on a very dodgy premise – judging someone and laughing at them because of their physical limitations.

Yes, Louise has been invited to play basketball with the bois, and the resulting scene is reminiscent of that time Michael Jordan was on the court with Bugs Bunny. She’s trying to talk to Biscuits and Boulle about the fact that since Alik has arrived, Ryan has been excluded from various social events and feels a bit miffed. To be fair, I can’t imagine anyone actually wants to play basketball with someone as likely to win as Ryan, unless he offers to be the hoop.

We learn that Sam Prince has cheated on Jemima five times with four different girls, which is baffling on several levels. Firstly, he’s been going out with Jemima for about a week, and I don’t understand how he’s found room in his schedule for so much extra curricular activity. Even if he’s not working working, surely there are sponsored Instagram posts and club PAs in Barnsley to attend to? Secondly, who gets so drunk that they voluntarily snog Sam Prince and then does it again and comes back for another go? I can understand that three girls might commit an act of one off lunacy after a few vino tintos, but who is this mysterious fourth girl who had such a nice time that she wanted to do it again? And finally, Sam’s new promiscuous lifestyle sounds dead sweaty. How is he maintaining the spray tan, and attending to the resultant laundry issues?

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We also learn that Miles has been mopping up Jemima’s tears, leading to a night in which the pair of them were ‘rolling around on the floor with our tops off’. Miles shares this news with Harry and Liv, which seems super snakey and paints Miles in a very murky light. Miles has copped off with his best mate’s ex – and Miles was best mates with Sam Prince in the first place, which doesn’t reflect on him in a particularly excellent way. Most importantly, does Jemima mind about Miles’ ungentlemanly broadcast? In the short term, it’s a great PR strategy if her single key message is Make Sam Prince Miserable, but I think Miles could be much more subtle instead of forcing everyone to imagine Jemima topless and smothered in lint.

Liv and Digby are starting an events business together, so this week they’re contacting Companies House and getting VAT registered – just kidding, they’re hosting an event where Mark Francis can make his DJ debut. Mytton is teaching him, and gives him some resonant career advice. ’90 per cent of the crowd don’t notice a bad mix.’ This might explain Mytton’s success as a professional DJ. Mark Francis refuses to wear headphones, or to consider playing anything that the party guests might choose to hear. ‘I don’t care if they leave, I don’t like people.’ Maybe this is why people play music out loud on public transport – they don’t really love Clean Bandit, they just want to clear some space and have the bus to themselves.

Louise has a pensive chat with Ryan about his friendlessness, and how guilty she feels about leaving him at home all the time. Dude, Sam Prince is never at home and look what happens. More seriously, I am deeply troubled by Louise’s profusion of wire coat hangers. You’re a style icon, Louise! You need wood! Sam and Biscuits talk to Alik about the Ryan problem, and Biscuits discovers that Sam can’t do times tables. ‘What’s 10 times 12?’ ‘120.’ ‘So what’s 12 times 12?’ ‘122.’ Alik thinks Ryan should ‘man the fuck up,’ so here’s our weekly reminder to Alik that toxic masculinity is killing us all, and it’s definitely not doing him any favours. Biscuits persuades Ryan to ask Alik for a drink and a chat.

Jemima orchestrates a Disney perfect revenge meeting, in which she meets Sam Prince while wearing a see through black lace wired basque, tells him she’s been snogging his best mate and then, instead of flinging a gimlet in his face, sloshes it at him before reaching around to pour it down the back of his neck.

Sophie, Mark Francis and Victoria do some interesting pre DJ pan European pronunciation work. Sophie is concerned about the John-Rah of music that Mark will be playing, and he assures her that he detests gah-rahsh. Also, they come up with a strong DJ name based on Mark’s first address and taxidermied animal – Mink Cheyne. I would have suggested the ScornMeister, Egg Faberge or MC Heave. Miles sees Sophie and Victoria and spreads his ungentlemanly news as Sam Prince complains to Liv about Jemima. ‘She wouldn’t let me get a word in, she went mental, she threw a drink at me.’ Sam, you deserve a full bottle of Baileys to the face. Be grateful you got a clear spirit. Harry The Reformed Shagger turns up to needle him, in the manner of someone who enthusiastically embraced veganism in the last 24 hours but still has gravy on his chin.

Digby and Liv throw their event, and they’re in danger of running out of drinks because they spent most of their prep time scraping decorative moss off the roof. Every new business has a lichen based learning curve. Mark Francis is not terrible, thanks to Mytton’s supervision, but he bails on his set two hours early. ‘My wrists have never been so tired.’ That must have been a dreary puberty. Miles, who appears to be wearing a ladies’ jacket I nearly bought from the Boden Icons collection, is confronted by Sam Prince – apparently when Sam Prince has a few drinks and kisses people he shouldn’t, he’s a charming idiot, but when Miles does the same thing he’s the very personification of evil. ‘I’m a good bloke, and what you’ve done is fucking disgusting,’ says Sam. I don’t want to live in a world in which Sam Prince can describe himself as a ‘good bloke’. I’d sooner take my chances in Louise’s wardrobe, with the bad hangers.

Perhaps in years to come, Sam and Miles will find themselves as Ryan and Alik do, sat by a roaring fire, surrounded by aged liquors, trying to come to terms with the fact that they have loved and lusted after the same woman. ‘I’m sitting in front of the guy who took my wife to be,’ wails Alik, and suddenly, Ryan understands. They have everything in common – at their core they both believe that women are to be collected and possessed, like Pokemon. It’s a queasy reconciliation – I’m glad they’re pals but when will the men of Chelsea learn the lesson that Aladdin managed to get his head around in under 120 minutes – Louise, like her castmates, is not a prize to be won

Hero of the week

It might have to be Jemima for living out every single one of my romantic revenge fantasies while sourcing an outfit from the only branch of La Senza in the UK that is still operational. Would it be weird if I got in touch with an ex from 2006 and shouted at him while wearing my laciest underwear? I might give it a go…

Villain of the week

Sam Prince, natch. And not just for the cheating, the lying, his lack of grace in the face of consequence – but for referring to himself, without irony, as a ‘good bloke’. Not on my watch. Think about what you did, Sam Prince, and if you ever do it again you can expect to take a Decemberworth of Advocaat to the eyes.

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This article originally appeared on The Debrief.