I’ve been inspired by The Apprentice.
It isn’t often I’ve been able to put my hand on my heart and say that, particularly during this new series.
But this week they were designing a new range of greeting cards and I’ve been moved to capture the whole sorry affair in a suitable style.
Indeed, this could be expanded to cover just about every “star” of every reality TV show that has made it onto our screens and not just the wannabe business bunnies that Sir Alan has to choose from.
So, here goes:
You told us you were the best
Seriously, this was no idle jest
Yet everything you tried was a farce
And now reality is biting you on the arse
You always gave 110%
Your self-confidence would never dent
Boasting about being a star, a big-shot tycoon
But you never had us fooled, you miserable buffoon.
Imagine that heartfelt little rhyme inside a card headed: “TO THE BEST REALITY TV FAILURE IN THE WORLD…EVER” and with an appropriate image to go underneath.
Something like this, perhaps:
It could work, there’s enough failed reality TV stars around to make it quite a little money-spinner for some enterprising entrepreneur. I wonder if I can interest that amiable Peter Jones or any of the other Dragon’s Den lot?
So, back to the latest trials, tribulations, triumphalism and toe-curling trips up by the two teams of charmless chancers on The Apprentice.
Watching their pitiful attempts to be creative – another failing to go with the lack of business acumen, absolutely no common sense, little (if any) basic intelligence and a whole heap of wildly misplaced self-confidence – was at times hilarious and others horrific.
The hilarity came thanks to two very bad ideas – National Singles’ Day (or should that be Singles, maybe Single’s, what about ‘Singles?), plus something to do with saving the planet – and two very bad pitches.
But what was truly horrific was the grilling Sara received on returning to the house after surviving the boardroom – with Jenny the Chin and Lee “Bullitt-head” McQueen leading the fight. It was vicious in the extreme and so many of the candidates showed their truly unpleasant colours by sticking the knife into the pocket psychotic, who simply seemed to sit in silence and take the abuse.
Raef stood alone in trying to draw the unseemly character assassination to a close.
Competing with The Chin and The Bullitt-head for most vile, self-absorbed and punchable candidate was Michael Sophocles. He led the winning team, but was a prize pillock throughout right up to and including the point he whooped for joy in the boardroom and caused Margaret to raise a disapproving eyebrow.
A telesales executive, his telephone manner is appalling – all impatient arrogance, the kind of voice and tone which would inspire you to try and reach down the line and grab him by the throat until he goes quiet. His team leadership skills were fairly non-existent and he stupidly gave Raef the chance to pitch the idea.
Raef’s words are “his tools”, but the problem is you tend to stop listening half-way through each of his monologues because he doesn’t really seem to be saying anything – or it could be his hair and eyebrows are too distracting.
The icing on the disgusting Sophocles cake was when he told Sara she should have got fired and it was travesty that Kevin Shaw, Little Britain’s forgotten little brother, had got the boot.
Michael makes me very angry, as do the rest of the bullies – The Chin, Helene, the overly-smug Claire, Bullitt-head, Alex the gurning Lynx model and Jennifer supersaleswoman (Lucinda just floated about in her usual kooky style).
I have to say I was delighted to wave goodbye to Kevin. As soon as he appeared on screen and opened his mouth, he made my hackles rise in a way usually reserved for Jamie Oliver.
Kevin would be a worthy recipient of one of my “TO THE BEST REALITY TV FAILURE IN THE WORLD…EVER” cards.
As he told us on numerous occasions, he is supremely successful in everything he does.
His first house at the age of 20, his second house at the age of 23 and his first Porsche also at 23.
Now he’s a reality TV has-been at the age of 24.
It couldn’t have happened to a more worthy bloke.