We're in Western Australia, wherever that is, for Kat and Andre's second home restaurant. Their main strategy is to pretend to "cook like we know how to cook" and also to rely on gross superstition at every opportunity.

"Based on this parking, things are looking good!" Kat says, as she pulls into the supermarket. "It's a double egg - that's good luck!" Andre proclaims, when they get a mutant egg. "I've just killed a leprechaun wearing a spotted suit and I'm wearing him on my head as a bandanna!" Kat shouts.

The secondary strategy is to cook an entire menu of foreign-sounding stuff to bamboozle the opposition. Veal involtini for starter, zuppa di pesce for the main, and ile flottante for dessert. When the raven bearing the menu arrives at his paleo lair, Pete Evans makes a thoughtful face and then trots out his standard line about being careful not to overcook things. "Whenever you're using veal you need to be careful that you don't overcook it," he says. I suspect this is really a catchall phrase that Pete uses when he can't think of anything else to say. ("Whenever you're using veal/fish/snails/vegetables/paleo food/a tiny skunk riding a lawnmower, you need to be careful you don't overcook it.")

Annie and Lloyd, who appear to be either cyborgs, windup dolls or those annoying theatre kids you used to know in high school, appear on the screen to make their contractually obligated disparaging remarks. They do this while smiling with their eyes so hard that your TV set may experience interference.

Kat and Andre get to work in the kitchen, prepping fish, making bread and talking a lot about stress. Unfortunately, these bad vibes start to affect the sugar syrup for a praline, which is crystallising and "showing us signs of stress", says Andre. Kat deals with this stress by bludgeoning her bread dough to death. "I'm just exerting pure animalistic force," she says, crushing the dough and several small woodland creatures under her powerful hands. Next we get a lot of guff about fish. "I've done crispy skin many times before," Andre reckons, flaying the fish and shoving it in the oven.

And not before time. Their guests are arriving - and everyone's wearing white and gold dresses, shirts and trousers. They're seated in the backyard and forced to interact while Kat and Andre run around the kitchen shrieking about fish. Annie and Lloyd's idea of small talk is to smilingly demand that everyone list their future babies' names and expect the Australian public to believe that they have chosen "Harvey and Barbie" as their kids' names. "Harvey for Sabrina, and Barbie for Barbie," explains Annie, training her laser death stare on the luckless Eva and Debra. Just take a few minutes to digest that.

Back in the kitchen, Kat and Andre start on their fish stock and also roll a bunch of hard balls onto a tray. "I don't know much about dough but this doesn't feel like dough," Andre says, cheerfully. They come out of the oven looking like shredded wheat. You don't need to be Paul Hollywood from Great British Bake Off to know that these are abject balls of cracked doughy failure.

Nevertheless, Kat and Andre get off to a pretty good start - the veal involtini is a fairly successful entree, very tender, deliciously wrapped in fontina and bacon. But when we get to the zuppa di pesce, it is just a bowl of disaster - the seafood is totally rubbery, the broth tastes like "fishy water" and it's all topped with the doughy failure balls.

Cyborg Lloyd can't contain his joy, making a sly smug face as Pete lays down the pain on Kat and Andre ("every piece was overcooked!"). However, Manu completely ruins the mood by making a flatulent noise just as the camera cuts to him. To cover this, he grabs one of the balls of failure and stares fiercely into the screen. "J'accuse!" he shouts at the hapless Kat and Andre.

Stunned, they retreat to the kitchen to cry. But perhaps they can save themselves with dessert, meringue slices floating in creme anglaise. "It's covered in egg white!" screams Kat, unmoulding the egg whites. Paul has the brilliant idea of cutting out the egg white bits and only serving the cooked bits. No one suspects a thing but they still end up with a terrible score - 57 points, lower than Annie and Lloyd - because of seething undercurrents about "strategic voting". Or their awful food. It's hard to decide which.