The Australian outback’s unforgiving heat just got a side of sour resentment. In a jaw-dropping twist on ITV’s I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here! Series 24, comedian Ruby Wax has turned a handful of hard-won sweets into a full-blown camp schism, leaving hosts Ant McPartlin and Declan Donnelly fuming over the contestants’ collective cowardice. The 72-year-old firebrand’s brazen solo feast on a pilfered packet of Liquorice Allsorts—nabbed from the spoils of a grueling Bush Tucker Trial—has sparked whispers of favoritism, fractured alliances, and outright bewilderment. As the episode aired on November 25, 2025, viewers watched in stunned silence while Ant and Dec, from their spin-off perch on Unpacked, roasted the camp’s lack of backbone. “How did she get away with it?” Dec demanded, his Geordie twang dripping with disbelief. With the finale looming just days away, this candy caper isn’t just petty drama—it’s a litmus test for the group’s survival instincts, threatening to derail the frontrunners in a season already packed with celebrity egos and critter chaos.

For the uninitiated—or those wisely skipping the nightly parade of Bushtucker indignities—I’m a Celeb drops 12 stars into the crocodile-infested wilds of Gwrych Castle’s stand-in jungle, where daily trials dangle stars, slime, and snacks as prizes. Series 24, which kicked off November 17, 2025, boasts a glittering lineup: from ex-footballer Alan Shearer to soap siren Lucy-Jo Hudson, with Wax as the wildcard wildcard—a therapy pioneer turned trash-talking trailblazer whose no-filter quips have kept her in the mix despite early eviction bets. But victory demands votes and votes demand likability, and Wax’s sweet tooth just handed her critics a silver platter. The incident unfolded post a triumphant “Jungle Nursery” challenge, where a quartet of celebs—model Kelly Brook, comedian Eddie “The Eagle” Kadi, gardener Tom Read Wilson, and podcaster Vogue Williams—braved a cot-filled obstacle course riddled with rubbery teddies and storybook riddles. Dodging spiders and serpents, they nailed every guess, hauling back a bounty of British bliss: Fruit Pastilles, Jelly Beans, and yes, those infamous Liquorice Allsorts, meant for communal munching to boost morale ahead of the next endurance test.

Back in camp, the air was thick with anticipation—and apparently, selective blindness. As the victors divvied up the haul, Wax, ever the opportunist, swiped an entire packet of the black-and-white chews, slipping one lone candy to ally Shona McGarty before retreating to the Bush Telegraph for a private pig-out. Cameras caught her in glorious isolation, rustling a paper bag like a kid in a candy store, her face alight with unapologetic glee. “Sorry, it’s every man for himself now—this is heavenly,” she cackled to the void, before doubling down: “I’m sorry, my inner animal took over. I’ve got a mouth to feed… mine.” No raised voices, no awkward interventions—just a ripple of side-eyes as the rest of the camp chewed on their meager shares. Ousted contestant Nick Knowles later spilled to The Mirror that the silence stemmed from Wax’s “untouchable aura,” quipping, “Ruby’s like that aunt who steals your chips at Christmas—annoying, but you love her too much to fight.” Yet beneath the laughs, resentment simmered: Why her? And why no one?

The meltdown didn’t erupt in real-time; it fermented overnight, bubbling over in the next morning’s confessional circle. Gardener Tom, usually a picture of zen, fidgeted with his trowel, muttering about “fair shares in the flowerbed of life.” Comedian Melvin Odoom, sidelined by a prior trial wipeout, vented to producers: “We’re starving for stars one day, then Ruby’s got a banquet the next? It’s like musical chairs, but the music’s jungle drums.” The real fireworks, though, detonated on Unpacked, the after-show where Ant and Dec dissect the drama with the precision of surgeons—or safari guides. Perched in a faux-outback studio, the duo traded their usual cheeky grins for furrowed brows. “At least say, ‘Ruby, you could have shared yours around’,” Ant urged, his voice a mix of big-brother exasperation and genuine hurt. Dec piled on: “How did she get away with it? Are they all frightened of her?” The hosts, who’ve helmed the show since its 2002 debut, confessed a personal stake—neither’s a liquorice fan, preferring zingy Sherbet Lemons—but hammered the bigger issue: camp cohesion. “This isn’t about sweets; it’s about speaking up,” Dec added, nodding to the trials ahead, where teamwork could mean the difference between a three-course feast and a witchetty grub encore.

Viewer reactions crashed the servers like a stampede of wallabies. Overnight ratings spiked 15% from the prior episode, hitting 9.2 million live viewers, per BARB figures, with #RubySweetsGate exploding on X (formerly Twitter) to over 150,000 posts. “Ruby Wax just proved why she’s a legend—takes what she wants and owns it! Camp cowards unite? #ImACeleb,” cheered one stan from Manchester, racking up 20K likes. Detractors fired back: “Selfish much? Those sweets were for ALL. Ant & Dec nailed it—grow a spine, jungle dwellers #BoycottRuby.” Betting odds shifted overnight—Wax’s eviction probability jumped from 3/1 to 5/2 at Ladbrokes, while Shearer solidified as favorite at evens. Former campmate Coleen Rooney, fresh from her 2024 stint, weighed in on Good Morning Britain: “I get it—hunger makes monsters. But call it out! We had a chocolate row once; sorted it with a group hug. Ruby’s crew needs that.” The scandal even drew fire from nutritionists, who quipped to The Sun that liquorice’s laxative kick might explain Wax’s solo sprint to the Telegraph—though producers insist all treats are “jungle-safe.”

This isn’t Wax’s first brush with controversy; the Chicago-born Brit, whose 2023 memoir How to Be Human (When You’re Not) chronicled her bipolar battles, thrives on the edge. Her I’m a Celeb arc has been a masterclass in unvarnished authenticity—dunking on her own “ancient” age during a zip-line trial, or schooling camp on therapy over tea. But the sweets saga exposes the show’s underbelly: the psychological grind of isolation, where a single Twizzler can tip the scales from camaraderie to catfight. Psychotherapist Dr. Becky Spelman told Hello! Magazine, “Resource scarcity amplifies primal instincts—Wax’s ‘inner animal’ is textbook survival mode. The camp’s silence? Classic avoidance, fearing reprisal from the group’s alpha.” With eliminations ramping up—McGarty and Odoom tipped as next boots—the incident could fracture alliances, especially as the Cyclone challenge looms, pitting pairs against wind-whipped waterworks.

Ant and Dec, ever the moral compasses of the mayhem, used Unpacked to pivot from fury to fun, polling viewers on their sweet sins. “Who’s team Sherbet? Vote now!” Dec bantered, lightening the load. Yet their candor underscores a season theme: vulnerability as victory. As Wax herself reflected post-feast, “Guilt’s a bitter aftertaste, but hey—life’s too short for shared jelly.” Producers, tight-lipped on fixes, teased a “harmony trial” next week, dangling diplomacy points alongside the dung. For a show that’s minted £100 million annually through its blend of horror and hilarity, this meltdown is manna—raw, relatable, and ripe for memes.

As the jungle drums beat toward December 8’s coronation, one truth sticks like toffee: In the wild, sharing isn’t caring—it’s currency. Will Wax’s candy coup cost her the crown, or catapult her to cult status? Can the camp reclaim its crumbly unity? And dare Ant and Dec dream of a liquorice boycott? Tune in, Britain—the outback’s serving seconds, and they’re anything but sweet.