So it comes down to this: after 12 weeks of dodgy DVDs and dayglo babies, tour buses and tramp-tie dresses, octopus-based perversions, Blue Book confusion and Stuart Baggs’ little white sausage, two candidates remain for the chance to sit at the right hand of the Good Lord and suckle at the meaty teat of the Sugar empire.
And despite his weekly protestations at the start of each episode, the Good Lord has ended up with Chris – the steadiest Eddie there could ever be, seeing as he is hewn from solid rock – and Stella, a Carol so cautious it took her 10 weeks to work up to murmuring a cockney ditty at four disinterested tourists.
Now Chris and Stella must go head-to-head in the final challenge that will be several light years more interesting than anything in their possible Amstrad careers of selling ad space in doctors’ surgeries. Because that’s what the previous two winners of The Apprentice now do! Doesn’t that make you feel better about almost everything?
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If there’s one thing this nation needs more of, its smug gits in business attire spunking away money that isn’t theirs whilst being rewarded with lavish amounts of champagne and opportunities to stab those who have irked them squarely between the shoulders.
Yes, that’s right, it’s week 9 of The Apprentice!
This week everyone’s favourite job applicants have the task of buying 10 rare items with a budget of £1500. Whoever spent the least won the task. Simples. There were obviously fines for failing to procure all the items or for not turning up to the boardroom on time, just in case anyone fancied playing fast and loose with the rules.
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In the first 2 weeks of the Apprentice we saw the candidates tackle Bangers and Beaches. This week our intrepid job-seekers took on another couple of words starting with the letter b, namely baking and boredom.
Lord Sugar told his gaggle of personality deficient buzzword soundboards that they had to go about, “turning flour into serious dough.”
What followed was an hour of television that was less interesting and engaging than waiting in line at Greggs.
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The nation is mourning today as its greatest disc-jockey, Chris Evans, 41, has admitted to taking magic mushrooms, and has therefore broken a Great British law.
A law that clearly states that you must not eat magic mushrooms, citizen. And Chris, our Chris – your Chris, my Chris, everyones a Chris, Chris – has not only defied that law, but he has also broadcast the fact to the general public. He has said:
"It was a Meat Loaf concert, two days before which I’d had rather more magic mushrooms than maybe I should have."
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Chris Evans Should Receive Corporal PunishmentThe nation is mourning today as it's greatest disc-jockey, Chris Evans, 41, has admitted to taking magic mushrooms, and has therefore broken a Great British law.
A law that clearly states that you must not eat magic mushrooms, citizen. And Chris, our Chris - you're Chris, my Chris, everyone's a Chris, Chris - has not only defied that law, but he has also broadcast the fact to the general public. He has said:
“It was a Meat Loaf concert, two days before which I’d had rather more magic mushrooms than maybe I should have"
Whether Chris likes it or not, our laws are there for a reason; for the benefit of society as a whole. Most upstanding citizens, upon happening upon some magic mushrooms, would automatically grab them in the palm of their hand, make sure no children were within a two mile radius - systematically culling those that were - before incinerating the mushrooms and then themselves, just in case some of it's anti-social spours had rubbed off on said upstanding citizens hands, all in the name of keeping society together - a concept that Mr Chris Evans seemingly cares for not a jot.
