JAYNE IS THE SORT OF WOMAN WHO SITS BESIDE YOU IN A QUIET ZONE TRAIN CARRIAGE, GETS OUT HER PHONE AND SHOUTS "HIYA, LIZANNE!"

The noise next door

"I had a threesome!" shouts Nikki to all of the housemates, plus the rest of the viewing cosmiverse, "Is everyone listening to me!? Yes, I had a threesome! What happened was…"

After three weeks of rugby locker-room chat, Ash is sick of hearing about people's sex lives. Particularly Nikki's. "So me and this bloke and this other bloke, right…" continues Nikki, stringing out her story long enough for her dad to set the Sky+, as he must be so proud. "Boring," says Ash flatly, then she yawns. It's only one little word, but it gets results. "I hate her! Hate her! How can she be so horrible?!" howls Nikki, deeply wounded, revving up for another diary room meltdown.

It won't be Nikki's last today. Later she'll suffer a minor toothache, which will cause her to make a noise like an ambulance siren right through lunch, while everyone, including Big Brother, panders to her. Nikki feels pain far worse than everyone else, you see. "I can't get my MP3 player to work!" she howls within two minutes of Saturday's dancing task. Technically Nikki has failed the task, but Big Brother lets her carry on because it's Nikki. Right now, however, Nikki's biggest problem is Ash being so heinously cruel.

Nikki can dish meanness out all day long, but she sure as hell can't take it. She thought nothing of persecuting Dawn back in week one for "stinking of BO", calling transsexual Sam a "man beast" or yelling childish abuse at Glyn through his chef's task. She loved joining in with Grace to splash water in the pool at Susie and chant "beauty and the beast". Nikki's greatest skill is manipulating everyone she insults into feeling they can't counter-attack as she's such a delicate little princess.

But Ash has had enough, "Yeah, whatever," she sighs, "Oh, go on, stomp off, little girl. Act like a little girl, get treated like one." Despite Ash's new mantle as house bitch, I think she's a vision of restraint. How long would you put up with Nikki? I'm quite a calm person, but I'd have been removed from the house on day 3 during the bottled water incident for shouting at her so much she looked like she was in a wind tunnel.

My top BB7 moment last week had to be when Richard picked Nikki up by the feet and swung her about really fast. Obviously it would have been better if he'd let go and she'd shot off into the air, over the fence and landed by the security gate where her suitcase was waiting. (Oh, come on, she had a crash helmet on. She'd have been fine. After all, she's one of life's fighters.)

"I'm the sort of person who, before the party starts, I'm looking for it to start!" Spiral shouts, which means if you have a party on Saturday night Spiral turns up at 4pm in his shell suit when you're still in the bath

The results of the "suggestion box" are read out to the housemates. Someone suggests Glyn should "stop being so Welsh". The comments are anonymous, but this one has Lea written all over it. I love it when Imogen and Glyn speak Welsh. The pair have done more in a month to hammer home the point that Welsh is a gorgeous, living, breathing language spoken by young Brits, than 50 years of Welsh tourist board initiatives.

"Stop speaking f***ing foreign!" Lea's been known to shout at the Welsh pair, as English people everywhere put their faces in their hands in shame. "It's not foreign!" says Glyn, "If I'm British, then this is a British language." "Well, it sounds f***ing foreign. I dunno what you're saying so you might be talking about me."

Lea is so paranoid she actually thinks that the entire non-English speaking planet has concocted a secret code so they can diss her breast implants without her knowing. It's because of people like Lea that Spain wouldn't be that bothered if we chipped off Benidorm and dragged it by trawler to Blackpool. "Take it," they'd probably say, "We don't want it any more."

Pete is told he has BO. Nikki is given a sheepskin coat by Big Brother and told to stop moaning for one day. She puts on the coat and moans anyway, looking like Frank Butcher in his car yard when Ricky was messing about with his motors. Nikki fails her task, but they are given a party anyway as it's Nikki. Big Brother sends in alcohol. A couple of glasses of leg opener and Nikki's in bed with Pete who, inbetween snogging her and thrashing about lustfully, tells her to get off as this is a really bad idea.

"This is the new secret house!" whispers Davina, "Actually, I don't know why I'm shouting as no-one can hear me. The house is specially soundproofed!" Davina's script was clearly written before Endemol realised that the houses aren't in the least bit soundproof. From the diary room and the bathroom, both sets of housemates can hear each other. "I think I can hear people next door taking the piss out of me!" Lea says.

Ash's fake eviction is brilliant, goosebump-making TV. Then out of a fleet of limos jump five new housemates:

Representing Cumbria, it's Jonathan! Burly, handsome and level-headed. Jonathan says, "I'm here to turn round perceptions of doormen as slags", before adding however that he is "highly sexually active". Jonathan has danced on stage with Romford's Five Star, although which track from their super-soaraway smash-hit album Silk and Steel (the soundtrack to my teens) Jonathan shimmied to, he doesn't disclose.

DJ Spiral: A Ravey Davey in a white tracksuit and Kangol hat, Spiral is here "for the party". "I'm the sort of person who, before the party starts, I'm looking for it to start!" he shouts, which means if you have a party on Saturday night, Spiral turns up at 4pm in his shell suit with white gloves on when you're still in the bath, and is still there at 8pm on Sunday, raving in your garden to Scooter, when you're trying to watch Heartbeat. Spiral doesn't drink, smoke or do drugs, he's just "high on life", which means he stays up all night watching you make a tit of yourself then remembers it all the next day with sober 20/20 recall.

Jenny: An 18-year-old Liverpudlian, who her family calls a "gob on a stick". "If I think something about someone, I just say it to them! That's just me!" says Jenny. This appears to be the war cry of stupid people all over Britain right now, because obviously that's how Gandhi, Martin Luther King or Mother Teresa achieved greatness - by shouting the first thing that crossed their mind at all times.

Mike: "I'm out four nights a week till 4am!" he says. Oh, great, you're going to fit in just fine locked in a small house for 50 days then. Enjoy.

Jayne: Oh, god. A 36-year-old mouthy recruitment consultant. Jayne is the sort of woman who sits down beside you in a Virgin train Quiet Zone carriage, gets out her mobile phone and shouts, "Hiya, Lizanne! Lizaaaaannne! Is that you?! Can you hear me? Ooh, I might get off but I'll call you back! Can you hear me? Is Tricia there? Oooooh, shut up! Shut up, you cheeky cow! Put Tricia on, I've got three hours to kill here so I thought I'd go through the sales reports!" Jayne would probably carry on in this manner until you're powerless and have no option but to go to the train shop and try to stab yourself to death with one of those small, white plastic coffee stirrers.

Of course, I've only just met her. She's probably really nice.

Are you loving the new secret housemates? Mail me on grace.dent@bbc.co.uk.