In tonight's episode of the Bachelor, Sam Woody Wood is objectified by a pack of females.

He is cruelly heckled, catcalled and wolf whistled at.

This is supposed to be a show about finding true love. But here we are, Bachelorettes, our arms full of clay, trying to sculpt Woody's six pack. It's supposed to be about finding the inner six pack.

Tonight we're on a group date at... a warehouse, or something. Task: capture Woody's essence in clay and charcoal-on-paper.

"I love going on dates where I'm swept up by art and culture", says Bache, patron of the arts, man of the world, owner of a business that runs fitness classes at primary schools.

Well wide-mouthed friend, you can kiss that sweet and platonic dream goodbye. This is an episode about how much of a babe you are.

Turn, so I may paint you. Image: Channel 10

"Girls, is there any way you'd like me particularly," starts Sam.

"Yeah, I think, for starters, we'll just... We'll get the top off and then we'll just...," says a thirsty Heather.

Woody: "Oh, it's like that, is it?"

Heather: "The shirt's too hard to sculpt."

His physical space is repeatedly violated. Image: Channel 10.

From there, things only get more embarrassing for our harassed hero.

"Add bulk to the bicep so it's, like, round," Nina instructs her co-clay-sculptor.

"Like, really, like, accentuated. Yeah. Yeah. Like, just really big biceps."

Check that Bache nipple tho. Image: Channel 10.

And the fact that Sam is actually a personal trainer (to children) with his own interests and ideas is missed entirely. No, this is an episode to remind us that a man is worth nothing more than his sweat-soaked body in the buff.

The Bache is then presented with portraits of him. And they are – get this – headless. None of the BacheArtists have bothered to draw a head. Like, that bit is not important. We just care about your buff bod, Wood.

The only bit Australia cares about. Image: Channel 10.

You can imagine him, after a tough day of filming.

CUT TO SAM, weeping silently

To Self: "Nobody cares about my huge collection of Pokémon playing cards. They just want to see the abs. And the abs... are tired."

A sad indictment on our culture.

Later, at one-on-one time, the Woodster tries to have a chat to Rachel M. Nice, friendly. Talking about their families, that sort of stuff.

And Rachel M cannot think of a single intelligent thing to say, or question to ask.

"But I kept becoming lost in his eyes," bemoans Rachel M, who cannot see the personality for the chisled face. Unimpressive.