16 hopeless arseholes. 1 hairy barrow boy with a face like Sid James’ corpse. Karren Brady standing about having a fag and rolling her eyes. Yes, it’s The Apprentice again, coming back like a recurring boil and bursting all over the boardroom in a shower of ambitious business pus.
Thanks to the recession, the latest series of the Apprentice shows the world of work in all its tedious futility like never before. In fact, the contestants have started to look less like odious trainee estate agents and more like rampant perverts, squirming in their sweaty office chairs at the mere mention of collateral. But Alan ain’t taking no shit this year -money’s tight and he don’t want to invest in a bunch of muppets who talk about believing in it 10,000%.
‘Finkin’ outside the box, inside the box…I’m sick of clichés.’ He said, scratching his balls. ‘I believe actions speak louder than words.’ (And we all know that Alan would never say clichéd things like: ‘actions speak louder than words’.)
Anyway, so what dribbling fucknuts do we have this year? Well, there’s Jason, a posho perpetual student with a business brain that’s as sharp as a cushion. Jason studies Greek Mythology - and you can see it makes Alan want to throw a banana at him, retreat into the corner of his enclosure and call him a ‘perfumed ponce’.
Then there’s deeply disturbing half Vulcan, half part-time drag queen Alex from Wales, who looks like a mildly surprised Ming The Merciless. His eyebrows should have their own show called ‘FUCKING HELL, JUST LOOK AT HIS WEIRD EYEBROWS.’ And who could fail to love jumpy Tim, who runs a Mexican food business and seems to have a bottle of chilli sauce on the loose in his pants?
Then, of course, there are the ‘girls’ or the ‘ladies’ (never ‘women’), a gaggle of grasping, entitled gremlins with Next loyalty cards and an unshakeable belief that every word that comes out of their mouths is gold. They slag each other off, betray each other’s trust, and would turn a kitten into satay on a stick for a sniff of Siralan’s wallet innards. My favourite is cupcake entrepreneur Luisa, who is an absolute self-serving shit and describes herself as having ‘the brain of Einstein.’ LOLZ.
Their first task , as ever, started at 5 am – this time in Tilbury in Essex, where the two teams ‘Evolve’ and ‘Endeavour’, were dispatched to greet a shipping container. (‘I’ve lived in London for years, and I’ve never been down the docks.’ said Jason the Arseholenaut, not entirely convincingly.) It seemed like a perfect opportunity to trap them all in the crate and ship them off to Shanghai, but sadly, this was a sales task, and they were asked to get rid of some bog roll, some water, bubble wrap, 40 bags of cat litter, some Union Jack mugs, some Chinese waving cats and some ukeleles.
After that, they split into subteams – with literacy expert Jaz leading the way for the girls like a bossy school trip leader in an episode of Tracy Beaker. As the day wore on, it became obvious that the objects in the shipping crate had been specially chosen to make them all GO MAD. (At one point the girls tried to sell cat litter to a shop called ‘The Mutts Nuts.’)
With increasingly unruly hair and crazy coffee eyes, they all went insane, rushing around Chinatown trying to sell Chinese waving cats to Chinese people who know that Chinese waving cats are a piece of shit. The guys were losing what was left of their minds too, and at one point were found crouching in a casino car park putting batteries up Chinese waving cat’s arses.
Despite suffering from Jason the Arseholenaut’s complete lack of direction, the boys won, and got to stay in a posh house in Holborn and have dinner made by chefs from Fortnum and Mason. Meanwhile, the girls went to the Café of Broken Dreams and Jaz was fired, as the girls berated each other for trying to sell Chinese waving cats to Chinatown.
Actually, the whole show was like watching one big Chinese waving cat. Essentially The Apprentice is a nightmarish, vacant staring vessel with Alan Sugar’s face on it, waving endlessly from the corner of the living room, promising nothing but cheap emptiness, false hope and despair.
I can’t WAIT for next week.