Apprentice 2010: Week 8

And now to the latest episode of The Apprentice. The one where they eat sausages, bicker, make stilton flavoured crisps and decide to have a lie-in.
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Chris – who saves time on sentences by making one long droning noise – kicked off the show by shaving toplessly into a mirror, in a bid to successfully Alpha male the shit out of everyone with his incredibly hairy chest. As expected, he went on to become project manager as a result. Presumably, next time he’s up for taking the role, he’ll simply pull his large penis out of his trousers whilst the others bicker, pointing silently at the thing until everyone notices and immediately decides to give him the job.

On the other side, Stella – who has exactly the same 'seriously, has someone shat themselves?' looping facial expression as Nick Hewer – took over. Stuart was happy about this for two reasons. Firstly, because he was probably off his face. And secondly, because if it all went bosoms upwards, “Stella will be going home in a black cab.” A chilling image, everyone agreed.

Coming up with the flavours of the crisps didn’t require the usual Apprentice white board and markers. Instead, Joanna repeatedly shouted “curry pie”, whilst Jamie and Army Boy Christopher went to eat a large sausage and tomato sauce in a German McDonald's.

“Sweet baby Moses, this sausage could only be tastier if it was a big fucking bag of crisps,” drooled Christopher, taking in a stream of dope smoke from the end of a rifle, and then realising what he’d just said.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he muttered to Jamie.

And they went off to make sausage crisps or something.

Back in Blighty, Stella and Laura were mixing up some tasty Stilton flavoured snacks for their team, lightening the mood by wearing a set of hilarious blue rinse wigs.

“So, are you fine with these flavours?” asked Stella, inadvertently offending Laura to the very core of her soul.

“You’re the team leader, bitch, you decide!” bellowed Laura, now minus the fun wig, and with a hunting knife pressed to Stella’s nervously throbbing throat.

He’ll simply pull his large penis out of his trousers whilst the others bicker, pointing silently at the thing until everyone notices and immediately decides to give him the job.

So it was. Two teams. Four delicious flavours. One of which definitely involved sausages, and another with stilton in it.

Still buzzing from their sausage idea, Christopher and Jamie were in the back of a car circling a German roundabout, cold calling punters who might fancy a go on their genius crisps. What they didn’t realise was that Jamie’s knee jerk decision to sod getting up before lunchtime would be viewed as bad business later that day.

“If I wanted sexy time, I would come here,” said Jamie, looking longingly at a group of innocent Germans.

To summarise the rest of the Hamburg experience: Stuart Baggs the Brand attempted to impress the baddie from Raiders of the Lost Ark by counting all the way up to twenty in German, and then earnestly demanding in English that, seriously, he should try some crisps. His teammates, Stella and Joanna sold loads of “chips” to the company that Jamie couldn’t be arsed to visit in the morning – cringe! Chris and Liz sat on sofas pouting like a swinging catalogue couple. Jamie and Christopher repeatedly attempted to do business deals with confused restaurant toilet attendants and janitors. And Laura fell out of a cab because she was so fucking cross about something.

Back in the boardroom, Liz looked silently demure on one side, whilst Stuart Baggs burped into his own mouth on the other. Then Lord Vader emerged in a sea of dry ice from behind a huge rented Perspex door, noticed for the first time how weird Laura’s teeth are, then pointed at Stella and her team and barked “you’ve won!”

And they had. By a two whole grand.

As a treat, he gave them each a tenner and sent them to Top Shop, under specific instructions to buy Stuart Baggs the Brand a new jumper. One which he could tuck into his jeans.

The losers, led by Chris with his big penis, sloped off to Heartbreak Café for three espressos and something with an umbrella in it for sugar tits.

Boardroom round 2 found a stammering Jamie sliding bloodily down his sword, muttering nonsense like “the early word catches the bird”, which is either a genius post-modern take on business, or the words of an outed bullshitter who has bullshat his last. And yet, Lord Alan curveballed the lot of them by concentrating most of his criticism on Jamie and Chris, before turning to Christopher and firing him for being the kind of man who would dig a hole. Sugar doesn’t need holes, you bastards, he needs BUSINESS, he explained.

“Cab for Stella!” hollered a cheerful cabbie, as Christopher pulled himself into the back seat.

“That’s me.”

And everyone started laughing.

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