There’s a mole on coach Mayhem “Not his legal name” Miller’s team. That’s right, an actual, physical rodent that burrows into the earth, and it’s created a network of tunnels beneath the topsoil of the TUF House. That pristine lawn we saw in the second episode? It’s ruined. And to make matters worse, the creature has been overhearing the whispered secrets of Team Mayhem and relaying those secrets to Team Bisping. How soon until the eccentric groundskeeper wires the joint with plastic explosives in an effort to curtail the mole’s activities? Who knows. But what is known is that no matter what the mole is telling Michael “Um, not exactly the best coach in the world” Bisping about impending matchups, it isn’t affecting the outcome of the fights. Nor is it affecting Bisping’s attendance at fight announcements or his coaching style.
Case. In. Point.
Coach Mayhem lines up the cast members for the next featherweight fight announcement (a routine event that Bisping has for some reason decided to skip). As his team has thus far thrashed the opposing force every time they’ve set foot in the cage, the Smirking One gets to pick the matchup; to the surprise of no one, it shall be Dennis Ain’t The Daddy Bermudez versus Seabass.
Armed with foreknowledge of the pairing, Bisping has done his best to get Seabass ready – “ready” a relative term that includes excessive sparring that leaves Seabass exhausted, and a black eye delivered by the Brit himself. Is Seabass prepared for what lies ahead?
Fast-forward to the fight, which is upon us about five minutes into the episode. Bermudez, who admitted on national television that a girlfriend tricked him into believing some other dude’s kid was his, wastes no time bringing the pain, wrestling Seabass to the ground and pounding on him. And pounding on him. And pounding on him. From cageside, Bisping is shouting helpful things like “Get the f*** up! Up! What the f*** are you doing? Just get up!” (strangely, this fails to inspire his ward or provide the necessary technical insight relevant to Seabass’s predicament). Finally, after the beating Bermudez delivers starts to resemble attempted murder, the referee steps in. Back to the question of whether or not Seabass was sufficiently prepared, the answer appears to be an emphatic “Get that paramedic in here!”
In the locker room Bisping is quick to point out that Country Boy Ferguson and Seabass lost because they didn’t listen. After all, Bisping told them to go out there and win.
As barely a half hour has transpired in the episode, we’re graced with another fight. Again, Mayhem calls the kids onto the mat, and this time he picks his bantamweight disciple, Reverend Dustin Pague, to face Green-Haired Gaudinot. As a show of religious sanctity, the Reverend doffs a green wig for the staredown.
Of course, this matchup is not a surprise to anyone thanks to the mole, and the members of Team Mayhem start to suspect something is up. But again, no matter!
Cue scenes of Reverend Dustin Pague, still in his green wig, praising God and quoting scripture and ranting and raving. Meanwhile, Green-Haired Gaudinot is training and belting himself with gamma radiation (where did you think the green hair came from?), while Seabass is grumbling to Bisping about his piss-poor coaching and Bisping goes into a rage, throwing tea and biscuits everywhere.
And then it’s fight time. Since Green-Haired Gaudinot was Bisping’s first choice, he goes out there and stands with the Reverend, taking lumps and giving them right back. But he’s smaller in stature and destined for the flyweight division when it starts up, and the rangy Reverend begins to score more and more with his jab and a plethora of knees from the clinch. Green-Haired Gaudinot survives the first round, but the Reverend drops him with a knee in the second, and follows it up with a choke. Green-Haired Gaudinot taps out.
To his credit, Bisping doesn’t tell his fallen fighter he sucks or that the loss was his own fault. Instead, when they’re back in the locker room, he consoles the dejected Gaudinot, telling him he’s got nothing to be sorry for.
Cut to Mayhem, whose team has won four out of four bouts. His grin is there. “And why shouldn’t I be grinning?” he muses. “When I signed on to coach this season, they said I’d be going against Michael Bisping. Instead, it’s Ken Shamrock all over again.”