Wednesday 11 June 2008

god is still missing.
someone should call the police
and make a report.

It is a sad day when The Apprentice comes to an end, and we see all the numpties but one sent off into obscurity.
This week, the final four had to design their own men’s fragrance, create a campaign and present it to the great and good of the perfume world.
Lee (‘That’s what I’m talking about!’) McQueen and Gobby Claire decided, maybe unwisely, to base their concept around casinos and the rise of the gambling industry, with a fragrance called ‘Roulette’.
Gormless (‘I’m only twenty-four’) Alex and Helene, the one with the inflatable head, came up with the novel idea of ‘Dual’; a big bottle with a detachable portable version that one could fill with Rohypnol and take out to nightclubs.
Sadly, Gormless and The Moomin neglected to take into account the cost of the bottle which turned out to be prohibitively expensive, leaving nothing to be spent on advertising.
Sir Sid James took quite a while to come to his decision, his gimlet eyes switching from team to team, but finally his finger fell.
‘You’re fired!’ he said, and evicted Gormless and The Moomin from the building.
The final decision took a little longer. Lee sat there sweating like Jodie Marsh in a spelling test, while Claire glared, much like a young Northern basilisk, brought up by humans and fed on Parkin.
Nick and Margaret, the American Gothic couple, who sit either side of Sir Sid like ministering angel pensioners, sat quietly, awaiting the verdict.
‘You’re hired!’ said Sir Sid, after a calculated pause in which the camera could range across the expressions of all concerned, and pointed his finger at Lee.
I like Lee. If he came to my door selling pegs, I’d invite him in and superglue the doors closed. Then would be the time to bring out my Dual Rohypnol bottle….
Well, I can dream!
We had a final shot of Alex, in the big posh car, hopefully being driven to a reputable hairdresser. He was crying, and no doubt whimpering to himself ‘It’s not fair! I’m only twenty-four!’
I imagine all his friends and neighbours are praying for his next birthday to come round.