Hello soap fans, have a good weekend? Did you all wake up covered in vomit and shame this morning? Excellent news, you’re all disgusting and that’s why we tolerate you.

Last week was exciting in Soapland wasn’t it? All that stuff happened and then that other stuff happened too! Yeah we didn’t watch any of it but we looked back at our spoilers last week and they were utterly compelling.

Ready to sober up and read this drivel? Fantastic.

First up it’s Eastenders where Jack and Roxy hate each other and are still squabbling over that child they call Amy. Is that even her name? We don’t know.  We do know what you’re thinking about all this though- ‘On Friday the courts will decide who gets custody and then we can all move on and look forward to Heather’s death!’ but sadly those sneaky writers decided that Jack and Roxy need to turn all of that hate into second rate couch sex meaning Ronnie will find out, escape from prison, go nuts and start stealing babies again because that was a excruciatingly stupid really brilliant story line which needs to be repeated.  So who gets custody of Amy? Who cares. This isn’t real.

The new Lucy decides to thwart Mandy’s wedding dress fitting which is excellent news as it gives us an excuse to use the word ‘thwart.’  Lucy throws some coffee over Mandy’s wedding dress after claiming to have seen a mouse,  resulting in a big fight in the Queen Vic with Lucy facing the wrath of Salter.  Our favourite person on Eastenders Kim, organises a date with someone called Sinclair and when Ray jokes about her being ‘easy’ she decks him, with another slap aimed at Sinclair for having a stupid name.

Finally Bianca tries to kiss Ray and he recoils in horror. Understandably.

Next we’re off to Coronations Street where Carla is still getting a hard time at the factory. Peter suggests they move away from everyone and despite our cries of ‘F**KING DO IT!! GET OFF MY TELLY YOU BLAND SOAP ACTORS FROM HELL!!’, Carla decides to stay and front it out. Bitch.

Tracy plays loud music to wind up Steve. Tracy turns the heating down to wind up Steve.  Tracy must be stopped.

Jason and Rosie’s sexy story hits the front pages of the Gazette. When Owen sees the story he sacks Jason and Rosie is dropped from her road safety campaign but then cheers up when she’s offered a screen test for a new reality TV show.  It was at this point we decided to throw the communal laptop out of the window and never speak of this show again.

Neighbours time and Toadie can’t quite believe that Peter may be responsible for the attack on Chris!! We can’t believe it either! TOADIE! Who is Chris? But then he’s questioned by the police and ends up being accused of attacking the man we don’t know or care about one bit. It’s alright though because Rhys finds Chris at the garage and proves that not only is he good at finding people, he can perform emergency surgery on missing people whenever he damn well pleases.  Chris dies. HA! He doesn’t.

Kyle assumes that he and Jade and in a relationship but she reacts badly when the ‘R’ word is mentioned. We do hope ‘R’ stands for Rimming.

Thank god that’s over, time to mock another soap star and this week it’s Mark Fowler off Eastenders for the best moment ever on Dancing on Ice.

You geeks are more than aware that Sherlock Holmes fell to his death in the closer of series two of the stupid BBC adaptation that stars Martin Freeman playing Tim From The Office Again and Benedict Cumberbatch as quirky Sherlock Doctor Who Holmes. And there’s going to be a third series.

Right?

And of course, the internet is filled with theories about what happens, what will unfold and all that junk. Really, you pondering bozos should’ve just come to us because we have all the answers AND we’re going to tell you all about it. Mainly because people don’t care about spoilers anymore do they? They’re more than willing to blurt out plots to shows and films on Twitter and Facebook, so why shouldn’t we join in?

So where are we? Well, Sherlock got famous and Moriarty allows himself to be captured and put on trial. After a ‘not guilty’, he blackmails Sherlock and taunts him with a “final problem” to solve.

How edgy and brilliant, eh? Then, Sherlock and Moriarty plunge to their deaths and every single nerd on the planet moistened with excitement and thrill. The dry-cleaning bills must have been astronomical.

Either way, Holmes faked his death and that’s that. See, the show will detail how Watson becomes the go-to dude for crime (like when Lewis got his own series after Morse died), but alas, an elderly deformed book collector ends up transforming himself into Sherlock Holmes! EVEN THOUGH EVERYONE THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD!

See, Holmes flung Professor Moriarty to his death and climbed up the cliff out of view, so that everyone would think he’d snuffed it too. Alas, some dude called Moran threw rocks at Holmes’ head while he was trying to climb up the waterfall and he ends up running for his life so hard that he ends up travelling Tibet for years.

Like a filthy student.

Colonel Moran, shoots a dummy of Holmes in his room at Baker Street and gets apprehended and it all goes horribly wrong for him. Very nice.

And you know how we found all this out?

By reading the bloody books, you nitwits. Seriously. You’ll read Harry Potter, but not Sherlock Holmes. You’re scum, that’s what you are.

Anyway, no point watching the third series of Sherlock Holmes now is there?

Death is a certainty. It’s one of those things that you can’t escape from, like Witch Mountain. Or Monkey Island. Eventually, just like the rhythm, it’s going to get you. Don’t fight the inevitable readers – roll over and take out as many people as you can. It’s what Guy Fawkes would have wanted.

Sometimes death is sad. Remember when Helen Daniels fell asleep and Hannah couldn’t wake her up? Gutting. Or when that one off Cold Feet was hit by the truck while she was talking on her mobile phone. Tearful. But we wouldn’t be antisocial enough to want to see them back. Anne Haddy had her chance and she blew it. Big style.

But sometimes death is good. It allows us to never have to see some things again. One of these things is Tim Lovejoy’s narcissistic misogyny and Louise Redknapp’s amazing ability to successfully imitate wet cardboard. We were all glad when Something For The Weekend was cancelled weren’t we?

It meant that we didn’t have to see Lovejoy patronise and denigrate the poor women who spent time to research and develop ideas for a major BBC show and struggle with a hangover. Or listen to Louise Redknapp agree with almost everything that every guest ever said about anything ever before adding some piece of banal information that no-one will ever care about. Which will only be followed by an awkward silence as Lovejoy’s innate arsewipe tendencies surface again.

Well, some people on Facebook have decided that they would like to see Tim Lovejoy do the best impression of an Awful Person since Jade Goody did that racist thing that time.

21,000 twats in fact.

And it’s even prompted ITV to enquire about retaining the presenting team and repurposing the package for their own nefarious needs. Sounds dreadful doesn’t it? What’s worse than Tim Lovejoy and Louise Redknapp being shit? Tim Lovejoy and Christine Bleakley, that’s what. Blood pressures across the country would rocket. It might even prompt some people to have some sort of coronary episode. Is that what you want? People will die.

Saving Something For The Weekend will result in deaths. We’re telling you now.

Join us at hecklerspray and make sure Tim Lovejoy, a man’s who’s overconfidence is only outmatched by his swollen-headed buffoonering antipathy for all woman.

We heard he thought Emmeline Pankhurst only acted up because she was on her period. Just saying.

Do you remember the days when standing ovations meant something? When the simple act of standing up and doing some clapping meant you’d seen something really truly fantastic? Yes? Well, last night’s Strictly Come Dancing was out to crush those memories. Crush them to pieces.

Because last night wasn’t just any Strictly. No, it was the semi-final, which meant that the five remaining “celebrities” had to dance twice and the audience had to give every single last one of the performances a standing ovation just to really destroy any meaning the tradition may have once had. They even gave Alex Jones two ovations. Alex Jones.

Yes, that’s right, she was still there.

It turns out that the producers don’t believe in “foregone conclusions” and so still made the poor girl perform her two dances even though everyone knew she’d be going home at the end of the weekend. They should’ve just let her save her energy so she could use it to try and muster up some personality.

But no, those evil nasty producers forced James Jordan to drag her around the dancefloor twice; once in what was meant to be a waltz, and once in an impression of a samba. Neither of them were particularly good, but everyone stood up anyway. Perhaps the producers had electrified the audience’s chairs? That completely explains it.

Also spectacularly subtle were the songs that Harry McFly and partner Aliona danced to. First up they did a Charleston to a song about being “wild about Harry”, and then they waltzed to “This Year’s Love”. We think they might have been trying to tell us something. Y’know, just in case we hadn’t picked up on the ridiculous sexual tension.

The judges clearly weren’t bothered with the subliminal messaging and gossip-mongering though, as they actually paid attention to the dancing. The fools. Apparently it was absolutely faeces-hot though, as Harry scored 39 out of 40 on both dances and promptly topped the leaderboard.  Which was nice for him. But probably gut-boilingly annoying for Chelsee.

Chelsee, you see, managed to get herself the first 40 of the series with her paso doble, despite spending the entire first part looking quite a lot like she was going to fall over. And yet she had to settle for second on the leaderboard. She got a perfect score, and she was SECOND. It’s a cruel, cruel world out there on reality TV.

And yet, somehow, there was more cruelty still to come. Poor Jason found himself getting a perfect score for his Argentine tango and missing out on the accolade and celebration of “first 40 of the series” through the horrors of running order and the linear nature of time. We’re not sure how he’ll ever recover. Especially as he looked like he was about to die on live television after exerting himself a little too much in the pursuit of those pesky 10s. There’s every chance his heart will pack up if he ever moves too quickly again. Which could prove problematic.

Somehow magically escaping from this week’s overriding theme of “cruelty” was Holly Valance. Presumably because having a partner who broke his actual back whilst dancing with you is cruel and horrorful enough. She performed her tango and Charleston without any badness befalling her. Which was a little bit disappointing. Until, of course, the ultimate badness happened and she found herself booted out of the competition, alongside Alex Jones. Who we’d just about remembered.

And so, it’s Chelsee, Jason and Harry who’ve made it to the final and will next week be travelling to Blackpool to try and win a great big ugly glitterball. None of which sounds like a prize to us, but each to their stupid, glittery own. We just hope the producers remember to pack their electric chairs. Mostly because we’ll be hanging around the ballroom, waiting to steal them.

Maths. That most hated of subjects for millions of schoolchildren every year. It’s truly evil. And last night, it proved that its terrifying evil grip extends beyond the classroom and into reality TV, as Lord Sugar found himself having to fire four people at once because somebody somewhere had forgotten to match the number of candidates to the number of weeks they’re on air.

You’d think that one of Lord Sugar’s minions can count, wouldn’t you? But it seems that millions of pounds can’t buy you competent staff or stop simple maths from cocking up your reality TV show.

And so Lord Sugar found himself with six children, and only two spaces in next week’s final. His solution to this problem? Popcorn.

Yes, the Dark Lord wanted his tiny little minions to come up with a new brand of popcorn. And then he was going to fire the entire losing team. And one person from the winning team, just because he felt like being really, really unfair. He said something about it being a first on the Apprentice which we assume was meant to make us go “oooh, how exciting!”

We didn’t.

After the rejig, Posh Harry and Other Harry found themselves working with Lizzie, whilst Zara, Irish James and Heya formed the other team. And then they were all irrationally dragged up to Leeds, presumably just so they could sit in the back of the car and whinge about whether or not they were there yet, and maybe give each other dead legs a few times.

Once safely in the hotel, it was time for the weekly battle for the position of Project Manager, which oddly became like the last election as Lizzie and Heya found themselves playing Nick Clegg and picking the winner. Strangely enough though, both of them steered clear of the posh idiots, and so Other Harry and Irish James became Project Manager. Which stomped on our Clegg-Cameron analogy quite nicely. Stupid children.

Posh Harry was inevitably deeply unhappy about not being appointed PM, and so decided to act like a spoiled brat. Just for a change. He came up with a dreadful idea to name their popcorn “Smoochies” and WOULD NOT SHUT UP about it.

Even after Lizzie and Other Harry had decided on American-style popcorn and called it Empire State, he still kept going on and on and on and on and then a bit more on about Smoochies. Apparently it had something to do with molesting people in the back row of the cinema. Which is something we NEVER want to think about Posh Harry doing.

Irish James & Co meanwhile had come up with a plan to sell Mediterranean popcorn. Unfortunately for them though, they suffered from a terminal lack of imagination and a complete misunderstanding of where the Mediterranean actually is, and so called their popcorn “La Popcorn”. Because obviously, popcorn with Italian flavours should have a French name.

The name wasn’t even the worst of their problems though, because it turned out that their feta and olive popcorn tasted like the rankest thing on earth. Everyone who tried it pulled faces so disgusted, that you’d think they were watching a girl defecate into a cup.

After the teams went off and did some disappointingly good pitches, it was time for the boardroom, where Irish James’s team and their cheesy popcorn surprised everyone by winning the task thanks to a gigantic order from Morrison’s. Evidently, their customers don’t own tastebuds, so it isn’t surprising at all really.

It was a business decision that seemed to completely cock up the Sith Lord’s plan though, as he found himself having to pretend that he was absolutely fine with having what was quite clearly the worse of the two teams through to the final. He gave the Harrys and Lizzie his card, and tried his best not to sob like a child when saying his overly emotional farewell to them. It was so overly emotional that he didn’t even tell them they were fired. THAT’S feeling for you. We know your secret, Sith Lord.

But maths wasn’t done playing its evil, horrible tricks on Lord Sugar just yet. No, he still had to ditch another child, so he called the winners back in to interrogate them about who was a bit shit.

The unanimous decision was that Heya was a bit hopeless, so she got sent home, leaving Zara and Posh James in the final. And Lord Sugar probably in need of some form of therapy. Or a maths tutor. Either would probably be fine.

This week on Strictly, it wasn’t just the quarter finals. Oh no, that wouldn’t be anywhere near exciting enough. So the producers came up with a hastily-thought-up-and-not-at-all-stolen-from-the-X Factor theme.

And so we had Strictly Movie Week. Which was mostly an excuse for atrocious VTs featuring some truly, truly terrible acting. And some tights.

Oh yes, the wardrobe department was out to kill everyone’s mad sexual love of Harry McFly by putting him in pair of bright green tights and shoving him in a forest. Apparently it was because he was pretending to be Robin Hood, but really, we know it was because housewives all over the country had suddenly become deeply unsatisfied with their balding husbands thanks to Harry’s arms. And so, keen to avoid a spike in divorce rates, there were tights.

Unfortunately for pot-bellied husbands, the wardrobe folks forgot about their new aim when it came to the actual dance, and put Harry in some very, very tight trousers. He then proceeded to gyrate against Aliona, which everyone had the good grace to pretend was because he was doing a rumba. We know the dirty truth.

Considerably less erotic was Robbie Savage, who donned a suit and danced on the theme of Pulp Fiction. But nobody cared about that, because his partner Ola was also be-suited. Even Brucie pointed out that she was wearing far too many clothes for anyone’s liking, which was a bit like watching your Grandad perving on some poor innocent.

Apparently he even said it twice, but we missed the second one because we were too busy trying to swallow vomit.

Also bringing inappropriate levels of sex into some family programming was Holly Valance, who performed a Zorro-themed pasa doble and got herself her best score of the series for being such a sexpot. We were waiting for Kara Tointon to burst out of the audience and punch her in the face, but alas, they’d sneakily placed her a few rows back so she couldn’t lunge at her rival. Which was disappointing all round.

Much like Alex Jones, who disappointed all and sundry by getting her heel caught in her dress and then not falling over. It was a perfect opportunity for her to stack it spectacularly and slide across the floor on her face, but no. Instead, she just carried on as normal. Her dance was Pretty-Woman themed, which the judges seemed to think brought out her “sexiness”. Because apparently that’s all that matters to those filthy-minded reprobates.

Which presented a bit of a challenge for Chelsee Healey, who was performing a Shrek-themed number. Yes, Shrek. That giant green ogre, who is obviously one of the most sexual of beasts. Annoyingly, Chelsee was dressed as Princess Fiona before she turned green, but Pacha got into the spirit and stuck some weird green ears on his head. They performed a jive and everyone thought it was amazing. Again.

And so, for once, we found ourselves agreeing with Craig Sourface-Aussie when he declared after Jason Donovan’s dance that it’s boring now because everyone’s good. Even Jason managed to remember all his Singing in the Rain steps.

And he frazzled his brain with drugs!

Alas, it turned out that remembering his steps wasn’t enough to stop Jason finding himself in the bottom two with Robbie. Which everyone was INCREDIBLY SHOCKED ABOUT. It was a travesty, and awful, and evil and a bit wrong. Even Robbie said that he should be the one to go, and Jason’s partner Kristina did some really overdramatic crying. And then Robbie got sent home, which was not at all surprising.

And so next week it’s back to usual, with no theme, and no Robbie, and with the inevitable eviction of Alex Jones. We miss Russell Grant. And we never thought we’d say that.

Shopping. If there’s one thing teenage girls are meant to be good at, it’s that. Right? Well, apparently not. For last night on Young Apprentice, Lord Sugar’s minions proved that particular stereotype spectacularly wrong.

The task they were set was simple enough; they just had to buy stuff. That’s it. Not buy stuff and sell it on, not buy stuff and brand it, not buy stuff and make an ad for it. No. Just buy stuff. Specifically, they had to buy 10 items for the waxwork figures at Madame Tussauds.

We’re not sure if the Sith Lord was intending to use the task to smash gender stereotypes, or if he’s just recruited a particularly useless bunch this year. Either way, they were utterly hopeless.

Before the children could fail at buying stuff though, there was the usual team rejig. Which now seemingly exists to try and get Posh Harry out of the competition, for he was moved over to be on a team with Lizzie, Hayley and Zara. Other Harry, Irish James and Heya meanwhile, formed their own little miniature team. Lord Sugar tried to use their original names, but frankly there’s been more swapping of members than even an average day in the Sugababes, so we’ve lost track of who’s meant to be who.

What we do know is this; Other Harry made the most pathetic attempt of all time to put himself forward for project manager. He said he’d be alright with giving it a shot but he didn’t know London, so maybe Heya should do it. AT LEAST A HUNDRED TIMES. Eventually, Heya said she’d do it if she really had to. And so began the most disorganised shopping trip of all time.

It turns out that Heya had no actual plan at all, just a vague list of places in London that she might’ve been once. She muttered some stuff about sort of knowing Camden, and then her team all got into taxis and just went off to try and look for things.

Heya stayed with Irish James – presumably to stop him from using his “negotiating skills” to tell people that they were utter cockmonkeys – and embarked on some ridiculous lying to try and get a cheap guitar. Apparently, at the tender age of 6, these children have already worked out that lying is the way to get to the top in corporate life. And so they went around guitar shops saying they needed one cheap for Heya’s brother’s birthday, the lying bastards. What would the Occupy London protesters say?

Unfortunately for Heya, once she’d tricked people into giving her a cheap guitar, it became apparent that she’d forgotten to actually work out who was looking for what. Or even what they were looking for. They’d been told to try and find a Dashiki, which they couldn’t even pronounce, let alone find. Other Harry took to roaming the streets of Shepherd’s Bush asking passing strangers if they knew what it was. Which they didn’t. Although maybe they did, and just didn’t fancy telling a besuited infant with a film crew in tow. Find it out the hard way, Other Harry!

Unbelievably enough, the other team actually did manage to find out what a Dashiki was, but were utterly shite at everything else. Project manager Lizzie decided that maybe some organization might be a good thing, and got her team to ring around before the set out. Which seemed like a good idea. Except it wasn’t.

Because it turns out that ringing around isn’t enough to stop two teenage girls ignoring all logic and reason and heading off to Croydon to try and buy a pocket watch. Croydon. That place which is best known for Kate Moss, Ikea, and being on fire. Sod all the jewelers of London, Hayley and Zara really fancied a nice little day trip and a £130 pocket watch. Who doesn’t?

Posh Harry, meanwhile, was busily ignoring everything everyone ever said, and was trying to buy a child’s suit in an adult’s tailor on Savile Row. It didn’t matter how many times Lizzie yelled at him to try a kid’s shop, he wasn’t having any of it. It’s almost like he can’t hear anyone whose household income is less than £250,000 per year. Which means even if he sees this, he won’t be able to understand it, so we can be as horrible about him as we like. The cockwhore.

Which is a good thing, because clearly everyone thinks he’s a total dickwad. Everyone, that is, except for Lizzie. After her team lost the task by spending a whacking great £500 more than the others and not even getting all the stuff, she decided to let Posh Harry go back to the house, and brought Zara and her pocketwatch and Hayley and her manners back into the boardroom with her.

After some debate about whether or not Zara is an evil, domineering bitch from hell, Hayley found herself sent home for being just too quiet. Which really, was missing the two most important lessons of this week’s show. Firstly, Zara really needs to find a new boardroom outfit. And secondly, it turns out shambolic disorganization IS the way to win at life. Which is great news all round.

Wasn’t last week’s Strictly jolly exciting, what with all the thousands of people and the being at Wembley? Who cares that they finally got rid of World’s Happiest Man Russell Grant; it was WEMBLEY and that is supposed to be AMAZING.

Everyone, everywhere was talking about it. If by “everyone”, you mean the Strictly contestants. And by “everywhere” you mean backstage at Strictly.

Still, plastic-faced Brendan was clearly very unhappy about missing out on Wembley after Artem’s miraculous recovery. So unhappy that he launched a despicable plan to get himself back on the show this week. But rather than attacking Artem, he decided to go for Artem’s evil twin Robin. They said on the VT that Robin was in hospital with a “severe foot infection”, but we all know that Brendan injected him with nasty foot plague.

And so, Anita Dobson found herself partnered with Brendan and his evil plans for world domination. Unfortunately for her, it seemed that Brendan was a bit too busy trying to work out who he could take out next to actually teach her that much of a dance. She just walked around the floor to ‘Uptown Girl’ whilst we wandered around after her, singing along far too enthusiastically for our liking. At least the Duchess of Cornwall told Anita that her dance was good.

Nobody else may have liked it that much, but it came with Royal approval.

Thankfully HRH didn’t stick around for the live show, because Robbie Savage’s routine may have landed him in the Tower. Because after a few weeks of not shoving his groin in everyone’s faces, he decided that it was definitely time to bring the cock-thrusts back. Nobody else agreed. Especially not Craig. The poor man’s still scarred from that extra-special desk-leaping cock-thrust. And who can blame him?

Also incurring Craig’s wrath was Alex Jones, who performed a “goofy” Charleston which was neither very good nor in time. Len found it funny though which was something. Although we’re not sure if that was because it was funny on purpose, or because the whole thing just looked a bit ridiculous. Either way, he liked it. The fool.

Len wasn’t so happy with Holly Valance, though. Her and Artem performed a foxtrot to music that apparently isn’t foxtrot music, and old purist Len thought it was a bit of a silly move. Everyone else thought it was great though. Except the audience, who were too busy being mesmerised by Ms Valance’s cleavage. Good to see someone is carrying on the tradition of overexposed bosom after Chelsee Healey’s costumes became more demure in the wake of Titgate. In fact,  Chelsee’s just more demure in general. Her routine was demure, and her costume was demure, and we were bored. She’s apparently good though. Shame we can’t bring ourselves to care.

Unlike Jason Donovan, who probably cares a bit too much. After totally cocking it up in front of 6,500 people at Wembley last week, the pressure was on to make this week’s routine perfect. Which he didn’t. We’d say it was a shame, but we’d be lying. After all, everyone knows the best bit of Strictly is when people mess up or fall over. So Jason, we ask you to carry on buggering things up, please. We could do with a laugh.

Sort of almost closing the show were Harry and Aliona who performed a ridiculously good quickstep and scored 39 out of 40. Apparently they had really good sway, whatever that means. All hecklerspray knows is that Harry was wearing far too many clothes, and we were not happy about it.

Still, Harry got a second chance to dance around naked with the Strictly Swingathon, which involved all of the couples doing swing dancing all at once. Which was the first time all week that we’ve missed Russell Grant. IMAGINE him trying to swing dance. Just IMAGINE it. Unfortunately, imagining is all you can do, because he obviously wasn’t there. But Jason Donovan was, and he was messing up his steps again. Well done, Jason! You’re doing just as we asked!

After three minutes of ridiculously enthusiastic dancing, Harry and Aliona emerged the victors, even though Harry had disappointed the entire female population by wearing clothes. They were given an additional 7 points to add to their total, and Brendan Cole immediately flew into an incredibly restrained and not at all visible jealous rage.

Especially after he and Anita got booted off on the results show.

We expect he is now sat at home plotting a way to take Harry out of the competition. Because it doesn’t matter how many times he gets booted off; BRENDAN MUST WIN.

The stench of Lynx. The smell that strips paint off walls and causes everyone’s eyes to water. It’s only ever been found to have one use, and that’s letting you know that a teenage boy is on his way.

Clearly though, it’s a market Lord Sugar wants to get in on, because this week he wanted his teenage oiks to create and brand a new deodorant. And to then make a TV ad for it. To tell them this, he inexplicably appeared on a giant screen at Wembley Stadium, which seems a bit ostentatious to us (small penis).

But then we were distracted by Lizzie’s incredible naked trousers, so maybe we simultaneously missed the point and became horrific would-be child-molesters.

Zara was made project manager of Atomic, which she claimed is a good thing because she loves film. Which we assume means that she spends a lot of time sat on the sofa watching High School Musical 2: The Electric Boogaloo.

Over at Kinetic, Posh Harry was made project manager. He was very, very keen to go for the female market and completely overruled the rest of the team. He then asked everyone else to come up with names and had a massive fight with Irish James, during which he just pointed out repeatedly that he’s project manager and failed to offer up anything useful at all. Not yet done with his crusade of idiocy, he then tried to come up with ideas for the ad and basically just described really bad pornos.

Typical teenager.

Gbemi and Lizzie went to the product designers, where they busily insulted Posh Harry for going on about “Big Bright Colours” and Lizzie remained blissfully unaware that she’s forgotten to put trousers on. After Posh Harry rang them and said some words, they made a horrible, ugly, 1990s can with a mirror on it. A mirror. On a deodorant can. Even Nick pointed out that it was spectacularly dated, but since these children can’t remember the 90s they didn’t seem to realise they’d gone wrong.

Atomic, meanwhile, were struggling with the revelation that the focus group hated their entire concept. This news came after poor Zara and her spangle-eyes had already drawn up half their storyboard, so they had to ditch the whole thing and start again with a breakdancer (the laziest shorthand in the advertising world, like graffiti, for something being ‘cool’).

Still, they were doing better than Kinetic, who hadn’t even grasped the concept of a storyboard. They just appeared at their ad shoot with no clue what they were actually doing, and Posh Harry and Irish James just wandered around a bit having a nice big fight. They eventually ended up with a girl in glasses doing an embarrassing dance. And they still didn’t have a concept, which was almost impressive.

In the boardroom the Sith Lord briefly had a go at Atomic for naming their deodorant “Raw”. Apparently he thought this might give really stupid people the impression that using it would strip all your underarm skin off and leave you with a nasty case of leprosy pit. This clearly had not occurred to any of the children, as they just sort of sat there and muttered some stuff.

Luckily for Atomic, though, Posh Harry had managed to lead his Kinetics to a whacking great defeat, and so it was they who found themselves back in the boardroom. After everyone pointed out that he was just about the worst project manager of all time, The Posh One took Gbemi and Irish James back in with him. There was a lot of pointing out that it might’ve been a good plan to have a concept. And that the can looked ridiculous. And that the ad didn’t really work, because they didn’t have a concept. And they did have an ugly can. In the end Gbemi got sent home because Lord Sugar was so unimpressed with their strange mirror-can.

And so, all that was left was for the surviving minions to return to the house, where everyone continued to be shocked and horrified at Posh Harry’s continued survival. They can’t even be bothered pretending to be nice to him anymore, so it’s probably an idea for Lord Sugar to hide the knives, just in case someone decides to hack up the Posh One in his sleep.

Because that would be a terrible shame. Obviously. And if you’re Posh Harry’s parents and you’re reading this, one question: Have you heard of condoms?

Just before last night’s Young Apprentice started, the BBC’s voice-over man promised us that it was like the Generation Game. He lied. It was absolutely nothing like the Generation Game. There were no cuddly toys, and no poor attempts at pottery, and definitely no Bruce Forsyth.

It turned out that he just meant that the teams had to try and sell things to the over-50s market, the lying bastard.

Before this week’s task started, Lord Sugar met his child-slaves at the Natural History Museum. They all thought they were doing something to do with old stuff, which was a joke that was dragged out for about 20 years. Really though, we were just amazed that the Dark Lord made them go all the way there and then didn’t let them even go see the animated T-Rex. Does he not realise he is dealing with CHILDREN? And that everyone loves the T-Rex?

Once Lord Sugar had finished really labouring the “old creatures” point, he smushed the teams around and sent Heya and Hayley over to Atomic. Where Heya became team leader purely because she’s spent some time with her gran. Over at Kinetic, James became team leader because he was a grumpy old toad.

If there was one thing that James didn’t want the potential suppliers to realise though, it was just how grumpy he is. So he instructed his team to be insanely cheerful at everyone, and tell all the suppliers that their products were fantastic. Which led to some cringe-inducing acting from team Kinetic, who pretended to love everything that crossed their path.

They could’ve been met with a genocide corpse harvester and they would have grinned inanely, talking about how innovative and wonderful it all was.

Team Atomic, meanwhile, was busily becoming a vehicle for Lewis to continue to make a complete tit of himself. Not content with leaving his phone on in last week’s pitch, he spent this week’s product meetings asking questions like “is this bag any good in the wind?” and then blithering on incoherently. And yet nobody tried to sew his mouth shut at any point, which really, was just cruel.

Heya’s excuse for her lack of mouth-sewing was that she was too busy declaring war on Posh Harry. He wanted them to sell an inflatable pillow, but Heya was determined to ignore everything he said and went for a pie maker and “designer trolley” instead.

Unluckily for her, Kinetic also wanted the trolley and since they weren’t dragging around a verbally incontinent scouser, the supplier decided to go with them. And so Atomic were left with the pie maker and a wanky bird box, whilst Kinetic had a mini-hoover and the oh-so-prized trolley.

And so, the teams went to some over 50s show to try and sell things to old people. Which was mostly unremarkable, except for the fact that Atomic couldn’t seem to decide on a price for any of their products. At all. The bird box was £100. And £125. And recommended to go at £150. And the pie maker? Depending on how much they liked the pensioner’s face it was £29.99, or £19.99, or £14.99.

Inevitably enough, this complete inability to decide on a price meant that Atomic lost the task. By about £300, which according to Lord Sugar was something of a massacre. And so Kinetic were sent off to the London eye to look at some magic tricks, whilst Heya dragged Hayley and Lewis back into the boardroom. Where Lewis truly excelled himself.

Not content with having asked a series of idiotic questions earlier in the process, Lewis promptly demonstrated a total lack of understanding of what the hell was going on and declared that he deserved to be fired. That is not how this works! You sit there and tell the Sith Lord that you are a thing of wonder and majesty and pin the blame on someone else, you fool! He should’ve said Hayley! She’s quiet! She’s a great victim! Or best of all, maybe he should’ve JUST STOPPED TALKING!

Alas, Lewis ignored both our advice and common sense, and so Lord Sugar sent him home. He spent the journey saying that he was happy and had done his best and it was his time. We’re not sure he even knows where he’d spent the previous few weeks.

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Next week’s Strictly is going to be really exciting. Not this week, next week. Next week they’re all going to Wembley Arena, where they’ll have the chance to fall over in front of a live audience of 6,000 people. Next week. Not this week.

This week was just the boring week where Len was back and they talked about Wembley a lot. All the celebs wanted to get to Wembley. None of them were actually there yet. Tess Daly informed us of this fact a lot. Everyone pretended to care.

With no Jennifer Grey and no massive live audience this week, the producers had to come up with some other drama to keep the audience entertained. And so they conspired with Kara Tointon to break poor Artem’s back. Because that’s what last week’s mystery injury turned out to be. A fractured spine.

Of course, they didn’t mention this on the show in case it scared the grannies; they just put Brendan Cole on a horse and pretended he was saving the day. He and Holly danced Artem’s specially choreographed dance whilst Artem watched on looking both pained and completely whacked out on very strong drugs. It was a special time.

Less special, inevitably, was Audley. He and his massive feet attempted to do a samba, but ended up just stomping around the dance floor after partner Natalie like a Scooby-Doo mummy. Craig expressed everyone’s annoyance with him for still being there and gave him a 3, whilst everyone else tried to resist the urge to tell him to just sod off already.

Alex Jones finished what Jennifer Aniston started back in Friends, and proved that grown women in cheerleader outfits look ridiculous, not sexy. And just to really crush the fantasies of teenage boys up and down the country, her dance started with her playing with a creepy rag doll. It was almost as disturbing as Russell Grant and that teddy bear. Almost, but not quite.

“The Grant” meanwhile, truly excelled himself. Not content with his usual technique of stomping around the floor with a massive grin, he decided that this week required something more special. And so he did a costume change. Thankfully it wasn’t a Bucks Fizz-style skirt rip; he stepped behind a screen and put on a gold sequined suit. Absolutely nobody had any idea what to say, presumably because they were too busy wondering if somebody had slipped some of Artem’s crazy strong painkillers into their drinks.

Also potentially on drugs was Chelsee Healey, who continued being disappointingly good. We suspect the producers may have slipped her some Ritalin, and maybe also a little bit of valium, just to get her to calm the fuck down. We miss her manic tassle-shaking and ballroom frenzy. It was far more entertaining than this kind of good dancing stuff.

Elsewhere, Anita Dobson carried on being both 62 and pretty good, whilst Jason Donovan recovered from last weeks’ apparently dreadful rumba and did a very pretty but really quite boring waltz. But the real drama of the show came from Harry Judd.

Apparently, Len wasn’t convinced by the passion in Harry’s Argentine tango. Which quite possibly makes him both blind and senile, because everyone else watching managed to catch onto the fact they Harry and partner Aliona were basically having sex on prime time national TV. There was a big debate between the judges about the appropriate level of filth in a tango, whilst Harry stood there looking nice and awkward. Presumably because he just wanted to get off stage and whack one out.

In the results show Anita and Audley found themselves in the bottom two, which nobody was happy about. They were fine with Audley being there, of course, but Anita’s appearance was both shocking and also wrong. And so nobody gave anything even vaguely resembling a shit when Audley and his feet were sent home.

Although they didn’t dare say that, obviously, just in case he punched them in the face.

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Young Apprentice. It’s a bit mean, isn’t it? Taking a bunch of kids away from their parents, turning them against each other, mocking them on national TV and then killing them off one by one. If hecklerspray had a heart, it’d break. But we don’t, so we just find it entertaining.

But last night, it looked like Lord Sugar had some level of guilt for destroying 12 young lives, as he started the day and the episode by sending some lovely flower to the house.

Unfortunately for the Apprentice Brats, he then remembered how irritating they were, and had to desperately backpedal. And so, the floristry task was born.

Yes, that’s right. The Dark Lord wanted a bunch of teenagers to make and sell flower arrangements, and as always, the team with the biggest profit wins. Since the boys have been a bit crap though, he had to reorganize the teams. So Posh Harry and Lewis found themselves joining the team formerly known as the girls’ team, whilst Lizzie, Haya and Hayley buggered off over to the boys. Which means we have to start using their dreadful team names; Kinetic and Atomic.

Sadly, we were denied one of the classic fights of each episode, as Lord Sugar had already picked his project managers. Hannah was leading Kinetic, and Lizzie was in charge of Atomic. We have no idea why he picked those two; presumably it’s because we’d really not noticed them before and he wanted to remind us that someone other than Posh Harry exists.

Thankfully, the Sith Sugar still made sure that the teams had a chance to make complete dicks of themselves by going to some pitches. Atomic sent Irish James and Other Harry, just because they’re boys and they had no interest in playing with flowers. Excellent casual sexism there, Young Apprentice, excellent casual sexism.

Unfortunately for Atomic, the boys turned out to have no idea what they were doing and pitched some kind of ridiculous “rainforest chic” idea to a swanky hairdressers. They were awarded one of the three contracts, and had to make nice flower arrangements for a ruby wedding anniversary. Except seemingly, nobody told them that, and they made rubbish flower arrangements fit for a child’s tea party and had to lower their price because they were just that crap.

Over at Kinetic, things seemed to be going rather better despite Lewis’s irrational insistence on attempting to ruin yet more pitches. Apparently trashing his team’s chances last week just wasn’t enough for him, and so he turned up with his phone still on and then had no idea how to turn it off. Despite this Zara and her spangly eyes succeeded in winning two out of the three pitches, and bringing in some money for the team.

And so we came to selling time. Kinetic provided a terrifying glimpse of the future as Zara and Posh Harry wandered around London delivering flowers and flirting at each other, and for a moment we thought we were going to be subjected to the world’s most obnoxious teenage couple. But then Posh Harry reverted to type and swanned off around West London with Gbemi and acted like a bit of a twat. Just for a change.

The rest of Kinetic meanwhile had decided to double their profit margin, because they thought that seemed like a good idea and presumably couldn’t be arsed with any more complicated maths. Atomic decided to be greedy and went with a triple profit margin, despite their flowers being a big dreadful. They all stood around at market stalls yelling at passing people about their flowers, whilst Nick and Karen scowled on. As always.

In the boardroom everyone was expecting Kinetic to win. Especially after Posh Harry succeeded in selling a flower that looked like a bouquet of dead hamsters to a bar for £150. But this being Young Apprentice, and the BBC being the sneaky editors that they are, it turned out that Atomic had actually won. By £12. Everyone was INCREDIBLY SHOCKED.

Kinetic’s team manager Hannah seemed to be so shocked that she lost all sense and reason and decided to bring her two most arrogant team members back into the boardroom with her. Even though Useless Lewis admitted that he was the worst one on the team. He actually took the blame for their failure, and still she spared him, the giant idiot. Hannah inevitably paid the ultimate price for her tactical error, as Lord Sugar fired her, and she got sent off in his swanky car, hopefully to some firing squad.

Back in the house everyone was incredibly upset by the possibility of Hannah leaving. But none more so that Useless Lewis, who stormed off when it became apparent that she’d been the one to go, thereby revealing why she’d saved him in the first place. They had a disgusting, youthful fancying thing going on! They wanted to stroke each other’s faces and tell each other they were so very good at business, the filthy young perverts!

Thank the Darth Sugar Lord that he had the sense to split them up before we got nasty Apprentice baby. Although come to think of it, Useless Lewis would doubtless have been too useless to work out where to put it, so we probably would’ve been safe from their spawn after all.

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This week on Strictly, somebody cocked up and let Len go on holiday in the middle of the series. So, to replace him, they brought in the star of one of the biggest dancing movies of all time. No, it, wasn’t the reanimated corpse of Patrick Swayze but rather, Jennifer Grey and her unrecognizable face!

If they hadn’t told us who she was SO MANY TIMES we would never have believed them. Even when she referred to herself as “Baby” we were still confused.

Whilst we were trying to work out if Jennifer Grey and Lulu shared the same plastic surgeon, and what the hell he’d done to the both of them, some celebrities did some dancing.

After causing 300 complaints to the BBC with the incredible power of his hip-thrusts last week, Robbie Savage decided to be poised and fully dressed and did a waltz. It was boring and according to the judges he had no chemistry. We may lodge a complaint about the dullness just to really baffle him.

Thankfully, one of the other celebs stepped up to the sexual harassment mantel, as Lulu continued the grand tradition of attacking Craig by giving him a snog. She also spent a portion of the VT dancing around her kitchen with her hair in rollers and a balloon, so we can safely assume she’s completely cracked.

Audley and his giant feet tried to be romantic by waltzing round the room to Avril Lavinge. The most exciting part of his entire dance was the fact that they took the lyrics literally and actually put a bridge in the studio. As soon as they’d moved on from that, we forgot to pay attention. Again.

Upping the excitement factor were Harry Judd and his incredible arms. After needlessly covering him with clothes for the past few weeks, the costume department decided to put him in something see-through and sleeveless. Women throughout the country were grateful, but the judges didn’t seem to think this went far enough. They all wanted him to “let go”. By which we assume they mean to just dance around entirely naked and entice everyone with his swinging member.

Elsewhere in the flasher fantasy-land of Strictly, Craig thought Jason Donovan exposed himself. Not in an indecent exposure kind of way though, thankfully. Apparently his rumba was entirely lacking in passion, and for the first time ever ol’Jasey found himself in the bottom half of the leaderboard. Housewives everywhere squealed in indignation.

Alex Jones quickstepped her heel into her own dress and then promptly fell over. Which wasn’t actually as ridiculous as it sounds. Unlike Russell Grant’s performance, which was so ridiculous that words cannot describe it. He started off wearing glasses on a bucking bronco, and then stomped round the studio doing what was apparently a paso doble. We had to double-check our drink to make sure nobody had slipped a hallucinogenic in there without us noticing.

Holly Valance’s partner Artem was suffering from a mystery injury. So mysterious, in fact, that it took them until the results show to decide that it was a back injury, which leads us to believe that it’s a case of Kara Tointon going all Nancy Kerrigan and attacking her own boyfriend so he won’t have to keep dancing with Ms Valance. Unfortuntely for Kara, they just dosed Artem up on a shitload of very strong painkillers and her plan failed.

And so, we were left with two ladies (we use the term loosely) and their Charlestons. Anita and Robin rehearsed for theirs by dressing up as gangsters and attacking each other with shaving foam, whilst Chelsee and Pacha went all Karate Kid. Neither of them fell over, and nobody’s tit fell out, so we were a bit disappointed. Unlike the judges, who loved them both, the fools.

So we came to Sunday night’s results show, which was hugely predictable although everyone tried to pretend it wasn’t. Audley found himself in the bottom two once again, because that’s where he lives now. Joining him was Lulu, who clearly freaked everyone out with her weird balloon dance and got sent home to continue her decline into complete insanity.

At least her delusions will provide ideas for Russell’s next dance though. That’s something.

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Zane Lowe is an unbearably smug son of a turd and if you disagree with that statement then you’ll probably disagree with most of this article. Ever since the days when he was sitting on a badly green-screened couch, chumming up to the Foo Fighters, Lowe has maintained the air of a man whose every musical opinion is based not on a love of music, but on a love of his own opinions on music.

The Smug-Meister-General of BBC Radio 1′s musical output has a long-running tradition of forcing his opinions down the throats of his listeners by choosing a series of “Masterpiece” albums to play, in their entirety, during his show. Thankfully this only happens once a year.

However, things are different this time.

If Zane Lowe thinks that he can force his idea of what makes a musical classic down our throats then we’re going to do the same thing to our readers, hopefully making you realise that this kind of behaviour isn’t okay. We might strap you all down and force the sounds of The Sugababes’ classic “Hole In The Head” into you, or we might just leave a link and some impassioned words from our writers.

We’ll see how we feel.

For those of you who still care about what the people who employ Chris Moyles think, the Radio 1 press person wrote these words to accompany the email:

Each show will include interviews with the artists and others involved in the making of the album, giving a fascinating insight into the stories behind the songs. Zane also takes a look at how each album since its release has influenced other artists with contributors including Coldplay’s Chris Martin, Blink 182 and Arctic Monkeys’ Alex Turner.

Chris Martin?! BLINK 182?! ALEX TURNER?! Why, Radio 1, with these leviathans of popular music, you are truly spoiling us but what does the Git-In-Chief have to say about his little collection?

“It gets harder every year to pick them, but this year’s four albums each hold a special place in the record collections of many, whilst at the at the same time influencing on many of today’s most successful and brilliant artists.”

It gets harder because you’re trying so hard to look like you know music Zane. The identity of the albums that Lowe has chosen (by committee) isn’t a secret but we genuinely couldn’t care less what they are so you’ll have to look elsewhere for them. Sorry chumps.

Anyway, taking a leaf out of Lowe’s Big Book of Self-Importance, we’ve come up with a list of our ‘masterpiece’ albums. No committee, no real thought. Everybody in the hecklerspray bedsit got the chance to pick one. It’s only fair.

Dare – The Human League

Mof Gimmers: Synthpop was always a ludicrous (gloriously so) genre, which showcased a retrofuturism hatched up in bedsits and motorway cafes by young men with dreadful haircuts and worse clothes. Then, Phil Oakey & Co. realised that they were sitting on something that was plain futuristic and went about making one of the finest, weirdest pop albums ever made. While ‘Don’t You Want Me’ is standard wedding fodder, it’s still a bona fide masterpiece. Backed by the catchier-than-mumps ‘Love Action’, the fierce ‘Sound Of The Crowd’ and the thunderous ‘Do Or Die’, ‘Dare’ is just about the most perfect pop-art LP ever made.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Check Your Head – Beastie Boys

Si Sharp: ‘Paul’s Boutique’ may have seen them at their lyrical peak, but 1992′s Check Your Head is the grooviest hip-hop album of all time.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Lungs – Florence & The Machine

Joanna Bolouri: Original, beautiful, quirky and downright genius. An album that could bring back longing and joy to an otherwise dead heart.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Beat Me – Electric Eel Shock

Kris Silver: An album that perfectly sums up this band of Japanese outsiders, fusing pop, punk, metal and comedy to make a collection of riotous, yet still catchy, and often funny songs about everything from politics to fishing.

Listen to it on Spotify.

We Are The Pipettes – The Pipettes

Robin Darke: Failing to invigorate the market with a reinvention of the traditional 60s girl group, this album breathes a modern interpretation into a staple of Motown history; catchy, feminism-infused and highly underrated. Get them before they turn eurodance and shi…oh.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Mr Beast – Mogwai

Michael Park: Mogwai have been producing exceptional album after exceptional album right back to 1997′s ‘Young Team’ but this attempt from 2006 is one of their most accessible. Rolling crescendoes and haunting lulls, what’s not to like?

Listen to it on Spotify.

Actually – The Pet Shop Boys

Sophie Hall: It’s the one with ‘What Have I Done to Deserve This?’ on it – a song which would upgrade ‘Disappointing second Hear’say Album’ to ‘Best contribution to sound in the universe’ in a mere moment.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Hootenanny – The Replacements

Lauren Mullineaux: It might not be their finest album, but it captures a band on the brink of unappreciated greatness and showed the self-deprecating maturity of Westerberg’s lyrics.  Besides the man is a genius.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Second Toughest In The Infants – Underworld

Matthew Laidlow: Comprising multiple styles from lounge to drum & bass, progressive electro to full-on acid, Second Toughest In The Infants is an album that sounds as fresh today as when it first came out, especially when coupled with the rambling, confusing lyrics of Karl Hyde.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Get them all on one, big Spotify playlist so that you can impress people at parties.

So there you have it, readers. Nine classic albums from the furthest reaches of musical taste (and decency), all delivered to you without the need for a three hour retrospective starring Chris Martin and Alex Turner.

You might not like all of the albums on our list but do feel free to tell us your ‘masterpiece’ albums in the comments. Or slag off Zane Lowe. It’s really up to you.

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Last night on Young Apprentice, Lord Sugar evidently had second thoughts about putting a bunch of teenagers in a house together, and decided to scare them all into NEVER HAVING SEX.

No, he didn’t direct them all to lemonparty; he made them hang around lots of babies as they developed a product for the parent and baby market.

Luckily for Lord Sugar and the teenage pregnancy rates, none of the Apprentice Brats seemed to quite understand what babies were, or where they came from. Over with the girls, Gbemi put herself forward for project manager because she’s got a 9 year old sibling. Either her sibling has some serious problems, or she’s missed the point of babies.

The baffling lack or awareness didn’t end there, though. After the girls decided on a concept of “support and comfort” – which is apparently a cushion for the baby’s head, but really just sounds like a bra – the show became Britain’s Next Top Baby, as the teams tried to find a suitably cute baby to model their product. The girls completely misunderstood the basic concepts of genetics, and matched a white as snow baby with a black mother, which proved a source of total hilarity for Gbemi.

Spangle-eyed Zara, who’d been responsible for this shining example of utter idiocy, tried to pretend that she had decent reasoning for selecting a family that could never be a family, so asked Gbemi to shut the hell up. She was sure her logic would become obvious at the photo shoot, where she was going for a fresh, clean look on the photos. Which meant strong colours. Which highlighted the fact that the family did not fit in at all.

Over with the boys, they seemed to at least  grasp the concept of infants. Scouser Lewis made himself product manager, because he’s incredibly creative, apparently. He immediately announced that he’s got lots of ideas, but isn’t confident about them. Which was a good start. Irish James and Posh Harry got into some kind of ideas war, where they refused to acknowledge each other and kept just spouting rubbish. Not content with irritating each other, they went to John Lewis and threw ideas at an unsuspecting manager, before having a fight about whose ideas was whose.

But it turned out that Posh Harry wasn’t content with being obnoxious in the brainstorm and in a department store. No, he had to act like a public school cliché at every possible opportunity. And so at the product designer, he picked a fight about what the main point of their product was and refused to SHUT THE FUCK UP.

And so it came to the pitches, where both teams proved themselves to have incompetent product managers. Gbemi wanted to lead the pitches, even though she was spectacularly rubbish. So rubbish that at the end of her pitch John Lewis didn’t even know what the product did. Lewis at least managed to get the vague concept of his product across, but still succeeded in looking like a bumbling fool who had his notebook sewn to his hand. The only saving grace was that both of them had the sense to swap out for the final pitch, thus giving their teams some minuscule chance at actually getting some orders.

Flogging done, it was time for the teams to make total fools of themselves in front of the Dark Lord. Zara tried to explain the logic of picking the inexplicable baby, but Lord Sugar told her that it was a big mistake. Being as it looked ridiculous and all. It looked for all the world like the girls were going to lose after getting no orders from Gbemi’s pitch, but at the last moment Mothercare ordered 7,500 units and saved them all.

Which led to the inevitable boardroom battle. Lord Sugar attacked Lewis for insisting on pitching, even though he was obviously rubbish. Everyone told Posh Harry that he was a total bell-end, but he carried on being an obnoxious twat, so Lewis took him back into the boardroom. Along with someone called Ben, who we hadn’t even noticed before, but who seemed to wear far too much hair gel.

Ben announced that he had a relaxed approach to working, which is sure to win favour with the Sith Lord. Posh Harry told Lord Sugar that it was everyone else’s fault that he just kept crapping on, and if they’d just listened to him he wouldn’t have been such a little shit. Ben was the one who ended up getting fired, presumably because nobody even really knew he was there.

On the journey home, Ben said that Lord Sugar didn’t get to see the best of him. Which is a bit of an understatement. Lord Sugar didn’t get to see anything of him, except for his violently pink shirt, which we assume was the only thing to get Lord Sugar’s attention in the first place. The fool should’ve just gone with plain white. That way nobody would’ve noticed him, and he could have carried on until the end of the competition, like a creepy silent hair-gelled ghost.

Because that’s what every show needs. A ghost in hair gel.

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