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.

We have two more weeks of The X Factor left, and then we can go and do something else in our brains. We know. It’s amazing. Amazing how it’s all gone so marrow-achingly slow isn’t it? Amazing how time can absolutely not shift for three months in the slightest sometimes.

Amazing. A bit like how 2001: A Space Odyssey covered thousands of years scoping from the dawn of men to beyond the infinite. Or a bit like how The Curious Case of Benjamin Button lasted infinity-hundred hours long and achieved absolute zippo. A bit like that, a BIT like that…

And hey! Talking of clutching at straws…

This week on The X Factor it was of course Psychological Meltdown Motown week and Unrelated Other Song To Fill In The 50 Minute Gap week. Well, it’s about bloody time.

Last week we ‘lost’ Janet Devlin, and by ‘lost’ we of course mean “We sat on our clammy posteriors and watched as her popularity slowly dwindled into nothing as appropriated by the people who do actually vote for X Factor.” We just like to be concise.

Okay so, life changing recording contract, “I want to be in the final so much”, “I am excited”, and all that sort of thing. That’s what we’re contending with as we cross through into the semi-final, so kind of a big deal. Not in the scope of reality or anything, but in the scope of Louis Walsh’s bath nights schedule for the week, it’s absolutely paramount.

For your viewing pleasure or something to that effect, we of course had:

• AMELIA LILY!
• MISHA B!
• MARCUS… We usually forget his name and have to Google it! Marcus Brigstocke possibly!
• LITTLE MIX!

There you are. No no. YOU’RE welcome.

FACTLET: The X Factor Opening Titles go on for 2 minutes and 35 seconds. You know what you can do in 2 minutes and 35 seconds?

*Do 2 minutes and 35 seconds of a task that ultimately will take much longer but perhaps might be more emotionally fulfilling!
*Listen to the entirety of Wipeout by The Sufaris with no burden to bear!
*But mostly the first thing we mentioned!

For those of you haven’t watched it/did not take part in the Ludovico experiment this week/think that Dermot O Leary fella is a bit ‘ehhh’, we have provided you with a blow by blow fully detailed description of this week’s dance routine, because we are kindly and attentive and want to mother you. No no, seriously guys, it’s absolutely no bother.

1. The X Factor doors open to the tune of Do You Love Me by The Contours, which is a song about emotional insecurity and doing the mashed potato.
2. Dermot appears in badly fitting suit perpetrating a basic Stationary Hand Jive routine.
3. Scantily clad women stand next to him perpetrating a basic Stationary Hand Jive routine.
4. Dermot jumps a bit to the left, and then a bit to the right. (This bit’s important.)
5. Dermot turns around and shakes around his backside like he’s in the SEX PISTOLS or something.
6. Dermot looks embarrassed, and all the girls run away.

But, hey. That’s just involuntary abstinence for you.

“Tonight they’re facing the toughest judges of them all. That’ll be YOU,” Dermot warned us in the sort of Orwell-esque manner of omnipotence that only he can pull off and first up to perform, and for an absolutely incredibly sparse chance at performing in the live final because she’s been unreasonably edited to fuck from Day 1, was Misha B!

This week in her everlasting menagerie of Humble Field Trips, the X Factor producers forced Misha visit lots of sick children to try and evoke some sort of caring in her artificial vestibule of hatred that the X Factor producers created in the first place. It didn’t work obviously. Slag.

Misha sang the covered to death Dancing in the Street in a dress made out of broken records, and here is a carefully orchestrated joke about that.

Hey Misha! Maybe you should change the record!

(dress!)

…

Alright.

Well everybody loved that performance, especially Kelly who managed to unfurl 80 extra hidden meanings from the Mick Jagger barnstomper by saying “You’re not just dancing in the street! You’re dancing on OTHER indeterminate locations too!” Seriously, this woman is the effin’ Sphinx. Exhausting. Then we had to go through the WHOLE Louis Walsh says Berry Gordy is dead thing which is a bit of a silly thing to say considering at no point on Saturday the 3rd of December was Berry Gordy actually dead. No biggy Louis, we all make mistakes.

And then there was Amelia Lily with Aint No Mountain High Enough, which is a song about how no level of altitude can keep James Stewart from dressing Kim Novack as a double of his dead wife. Or something. You know, WE’VE GOT A LOT ON.

This all led to us being very confused over whether she looked darn attractive in a 60s Nancy Sinatra way or just a bit trashy in a modern day Twiggy M&S advert kinda way. Either way, it’s a bit of a grey area for us, and it’s probably easier for us not to bother. The dress code of the dancers seemed altogether a little bit more confusing. Houndstooth and tartan? Is that ‘The 60s‘? Let’s just check Wikipedia’s page for the 60s just to make sure. Blah blah blah – radical political change – blah blah blah – centre left social reforms – yadda yadda yadda – The African American civil rights movement… Oop. Hang about. “EVERYONE IN THE 60S LIKED TO WEAR FUNKY PATTERNS” it says. Ah, fair enough. Amelia sang the song vaguely well, basically giving her the exact capabilities as all the Jesuses. That sounds pretty serious. Let’s not deal with that.

“YOU SOUND AMAZING!”IOO”JOJI!IO!HIDBISH!” Kelly Rowland reported in a kind of cerebrovascular accident kinda way. (This is the same Kelly Rowland who wrote the song Stole, which is about a song with a girl who has same size hands as Marilyn Monroe, FYI)

Little Mix up next, singing We Are Nonthreatening But Women Nonetheless! By The Supremes. Ah, that wouldn’t be The Supremes, the collective compromising of quite a fair few women singing at the same time would it? Because… Wait, hold the phone. Don’t Little Mix do something to that effect? Flaming, third degree burns Nora! That’s too much of a coincidence. Assumingly then this was going to be absolutely amazing. So, what degree of amazing did it end up being we hear you cry whilst you claw at our ankles sobbing for catharsis? WELL. If only we had some sort of scale…

Oh dear. So what went wrong? HOW COULD THIS HAVE POSSIBLY GONE WRONG? What is THAT ANSWER? Will we ever even truly know?

Well, they didn’t sing it very well and someone forgot the words. Next week, we’ll sort all that Atlantis and Jack the Ripper stuff out everyone keeps harping on about. Anyway, hot blonde baritone Mix kind of saved it a bit though, which our Spiritual Guide Gary Barlow later points out saying that Peri (Oop. careful Gary, if you name them, you might generate an emotional attachment) should be the lead singer.

“That’s what this group is missing. A lead singer.”

A very interesting Robbie Williams ’90s solo career-y point well made.

“DIANA ROSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” – Louis added.

It’s actually something of an achievement that The X Factor has gone this far in the competition (Say about..six weeks) without featuring Robbie Williams actually. And here we were worried that the show was…dare we say it, missing the mark of what constitutes as entertainment! Pah. Oh how wrong we were!

Oh wait, there he is with Marcus Collins wearing a cravat. Ah well, we had a good run.

Yeah, that brings us quite messily on to Marcus Collins, who was performing a song that may or may not make us want to ‘get up and dance’ as the dubstep generation like to call all that sex these days. Oh, alright. Not really. God, we’re such jokers. He sang My Girl, which he presumably sang about one of his female platonic friends that he is not boning dry. Ah, so that’s why Robbie Williams came in to give him some advice this week! Gotcha. Gotcha. (Banal early 2000s Robbie Williams homosexuality jokes! Yes we ARE really pushing the boat out this week, thanks for playing!)

“I was hoping you were singing for me.” Kelly told Marcus. Marcus smiles and nods respectfully, as that is all he can offer her.

Mi-Icantbelieveimintouchingdistanceandidontwantittoend-sha B was up again, singing “Humble” the Gary Barlow remix, by SadPink. It’s good-at-singing kind of good. But that doesn’t matter.

Amelia came back singing I’M WITH YOU by AVRIL LAVIGNE which is a song about feelings and being with someone but them not actually being there. Still confused? Okay. It’s like An Affair to Remember with early 2000s pop-punk, and when we say ‘like’ we mean EXACTLY THE SAME. Deborah Kerr probably got a bit angsty and wore a tie with a vest top in her spare time too. We’ve all been there. And we all made it through. Clearly.

Amelia sang the song in that classic Amelia Lily Loud singing/Whisper Singing/Louder Singing/Nicole Kidman Bronchitis Moulin Rouge Whisper singing way. But does this mean that she didn’t absolutely definitely mean EVERY SINGLE WORD? Of course she did! God, we really aren’t taking this very seriously tonight. Apologies to Avril Lavigne, or alternatively: People with actual problems. Cheers guys.

“With that song [That song being ‘I’m With You’ by Avril  Lavigne just to remind you] it’s like you are telling a story. And you have to sing that song as if you are telling a story.”

Which you’ll be shocked into a catatonic state to hear Tulisa came out with at one point. But it turns out it’s actually a very fair point! Seeing as:

“I’m With You” by Avril Lavigne is about Avril Lavigne standing on a bridge waiting in the dark for someone to come and take her hand, and then if there’s time, take her somewhere new. Now, she doesn’t know who this IS, but rest assured she is with them in a metaphorical sense despite him not being physically there. Now CALL US PICKY but we’d think of that more as an experimental William S Burroughs Beat Novel more than a story, per se Tulisa. But hey, ‘that’s just us’.

“Pipes” Kelly Rowland added.

Marcus Collins was up again, or if you prefer, Marcus“afewmonthsagoiwasahairdresserworking9to5andnowiminlondon&itssofunny” Collins, as is is his more catchy pseudonym, sang Can You Feel It. Well, when we say ‘Sang Can You Feel It’ we mean more like ‘inquisitively questioned Can You Feel It in a tentative yet hopeful for one singular sensual brush of the skin of another kind of way’, which we assume is the way Michael Jackson intended it to sound! Hurray!

Sadly, he didn’t muse on what ‘she’ would look like with a ‘chimney on her’, which would have been amazing.

And finally, Little Mix came along to sing ‘If I were a Boy’ which doesn’t work as a group song at all, so Tulisa spits mentals and starts rifling off every single local region in the UK and telling them to vote for Little Mix, like how Winston Churchill used to do when he was trying to get people to vote for Little Mix.

The Little Mixicans (As nobody should EVER call them) say something about how ‘they don’t want to be perfect’ which is why they sang the song about wanting to be boys, because women are biologically inferior as we all know – and then everything came crashing to a close in a mass of violent shrugs.

Shit on that ending, Shawshank Redemption.

THE RESULTS

*Call us picky, but we absolutely loathe Justin Bieber’s bollocks excuse for a Christmas song and don’t like Justin Bieber at all or would ever try and single out any redeeming quality to the fabric of his existence.

*Bye Misha. That’ll teach you to try and bring your talent and very broad vocal range on to The X Factor.

*The sound editors surpass themselves by playing Dream Is Collapsing from the Inception soundtrack over Marcus’  VT where he talks exclusively about how getting through to the final would be his dream. Very good.

*We got to hear that really emotionally taxing Jessie J ballad again, and only for the third time in the space of three weeks. Oh Mr Ambassador, you really are spoiling us etc.

*It is uncanny just how much Tulisa looks like Debenhams and Mkat  sometimes.

*Perez Philtrum appears in the ad break even though nobody wanted him to.

*Kelly Rowland uses soliloquy in pop music, and it is theoretically hells-a-mazing. It was perhaps the most precise mixture of Orbital and Dr Faustus in RnB pop history we have ever seen. But we’re just speculating.

Next week is the final. Or as we like to call it: ‘The Hecklerspray Christmas Party where we’ll deliver a really drab, hungover last minute mess of a review’ This means we’ll only be putting in aprox. 5 billion percent more effort into the review than ITV will be putting into the actual contents of the show, so we’ll call that fifteen love.

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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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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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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Here at hecklerspray, if there’s one thing we hate more than people, it’s teenagers. Horrible, obnoxious little peach fuzz adolescents who stomp around being all arrogant, irritating and smelling of Lynx Africa.

Strangely though, Lord Sugar doesn’t feel the same. In fact, he seems to love teenagers so much that he’s invited a bunch of them up to London to play dress-up and have a crack at being Real Adults.

Children, like Whitney Houston said, are the future. Lord Sugar agrees. What he clearly hasn’t realised is that if the future is going to be run by a bunch of hormonal twerps who would rather spend their precious youth wearing suits than drinking until they vomit in a hedge, then we’re all doomed.

Never one to let the imminent decline of the planet stop him, Lord Sugar has brought back Junior Apprentice. Which is exactly the same as normal Apprentice, just with more acne. He’s even putting all the candidates up in a swanky townhouse, as per Big Apprentice, once again showing incredible foresight. That’s not going to end in teenage pregnancy. Not at all.

Before the candidates had a chance to remove their suits and experiment sexually though, Lord Sugar called them in to meet him in the boardroom to tell them all he loved them. In a business-y way, of course. He also informed them that they shouldn’t try to pretend they know it all, because that would be embarrassing. An instruction that was promptly ignored by absolutely everyone.

Because this week, the tiny little idiots had to make and market their own range of frozen treats. Or ice-cream as the rest of the entire planet calls it.

The gits were split up into boys and girls and sent on their way to come up with as much profit as humanly possible. Because that would show our Lord who has their heads screwed on.

Unfortunately for Sith Sugar though, he seems to have recruited a bunch of blithering nincompoops. The boys managed to work out their profit margins, but decided to sell their stock ridiculously cheaply, apparently just because they felt like it. And so the tradition of ignoring instructions began.

The girls, meanwhile, proved to be a maths teacher’s worst nightmare despite Hayley’s proud boast that she has a GCSE in maths. They couldn’t manage to get their brains to work for long enough to even figure out their costs, so just made as much ice cream as they possibly could. And then ditched half of it, because they didn’t have anywhere near enough fruit. It truly was a masterclass in goonery.

We anticipate a hysterical editorial about the sliding standards of maths education in the Daily Mail any day now.

Where the girls did prove themselves though was in the art of sneaky selling. They set up their stall at Chessington World of Adventures, where Zara adopted a sales technique which basically consisted of handing ice creams to small children and then forcing their parents to pay up. One woman was particularly horrified at the thought of having to shell out nearly £4, but clearly unwilling to steal on national TV, paid up anyway. It was the work of evil genius.

The boys, unfortunately, had no such evil on their side. They’d inexplicably decided to give their ice cream a pirate theme, and so found themselves at Southend-on-Sea with James (Tory spin wanker in the making) dressed as a pirate, and Mohammed (so tiny he could live in a thimble) chasing people down the seafront informing them that they DEFINITELY WANTED SOME ICE CREAM. Project manager Harry H (blah) meanwhile decided to head down onto the beach and do some deliveries. Presumably so he wouldn’t have to spend any more time with his team.

In the boardroom, two things became immediately apparently.

Firstly, the boys had completely fucked themselves over by selling their ice-cream stupidly cheaply, and so they lost. And secondly, as well as having appalling taste in suits, Mohammed is entirely deluded. He believed he’d come up with all of the ideas and made all of the sales, and was generally fantastic at everything.

The truth of the matter is that he was entirely useless. But he was so very, very small. Small enough to lie lengthways inside a blue bottle’s lung. He obviously got fired, leaving Pirate James and his ridiculous blazer to annoy people for another week.

This is going to be gruesome.

Watch Young Apprentice On iPlayer if you missed it.

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Last night was the Apprentice final. The week where we get to finally find out who wins, and what they’re going to do with Lord Sugar’s money! But really, who cared who won? MARGARET WAS BACK. Everybody loves Margaret. Except maybe the Apprentice candidates, who had to face her wrath in their interviews.

It wasn’t just Margaret doing the interviewing though. No, Lord Sugar had brought in a team of four scary-looking people who were out to make the candidates cry, and scream, and maybe piss themselves. And so, we got to find out their rubbish business plans. And more importantly, their massive flaws. Because let’s be honest, they’re bound to be more crap than good.

Susan wanted to expand her existing business and make everyone pretty. Unfortunately though, she’s both a tax-dodger and a bit of an idiot. She had no idea what it takes to actually set up a company, or to get her products tested, or even that you’re meant to pay tax and national insurance, but she’d read about it on the internet. Apparently this means she’ll make £1m profit in her first year. Nobody seemed convinced, but her confidence remained unaffected.

HELEN WANTED TO ORGANISE EVERYONE. Her plan was to take all the rubbish little tasks off people’s hands and do them for them. But she doesn’t know anyone, and so wouldn’t be able to get anything done. And then Margaret pointed out that Helen had such a non-existent work-life balance that she might not even be a human. Which would make sense of her awesome winning streak. The woman’s a robot! HOW DID WE NOT CLOCK THIS EARLIER?

Tom, meanwhile, wanted to solve back pain with a chair. Which he forgot to mention in his business plan. He’d also made his numbers up, and forgotten to cost his chair. Well done, Tom. Strong showing all round.

After all this, we still didn’t know what Magic Jim is planning on doing. We just knew he’s a massive cliché, who’d had a meteoric rise from zero to hero. And when asked to talk about himself without clichés, he said that he’s ‘what it says on the tin’.  When they eventually got the idea out of him, it turned out he wanted to go into schools and brainwash children to be just like him. He wanted to call his business AmSmart, because he’s trying to seduce Lord Sugar through the power of money. Which is just a mental image hecklerspray could really, really do without.

After the interviews, it was back to the boardroom, where Susan was mocked extensively for her £4m turnover estimate. Tom and Helen meanwhile, both got a bollocking – Helen, for just being a great big disappointment, and Tom for adding to Lord Sugar’s health and safety nightmare. Jim stayed out of it and just carried on trying to seduce his way to the money. He even called Lord Sugar just plain “Sugar”.

It didn’t go down well with Lord Sugar though (thank God, because we don’t think we could have coped with that mental image on top of everything else), and so Jim was first to be fired. Susan was next to go, because Lord Sugar’s scared she’ll spend all his money attempting to professionalise her company without actually achieving anything. Which seemed a fair and valid point.

And so it came down to Tom and Helen. Really, what we all knew was that the two of them should go into business together, possibly get married, and take over the world with their incredibly inventive and organized children. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and so Lord Sugar had to pick just one.

Before he could, Helen decided to make one final, desperate grasp for the money and announced she was actually going to start a chain of bakeries. Unfortunately for her, Tom’s oddly stalkerish tactics for getting his products into shops impressed Lord Sugar more, and so he was made Lord Sugar’s business partner. Finally. Despite losing everything.

And so, another year of the Apprentice has come to an end, and hecklerspray finds itself at a loss as to what to do on Wednesday nights from now on. We might take to wandering the streets throwing insults at people in a desperate attempt to fill the void in our lives. Or we might just start communicating exclusively via Amstrad E-M@iler. If we can find one, that is.

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This week’s Apprentice turned out to be Cultural Ignorance Week, which was a bit unexpected because everyone thought it was going to be interview week. The poor candidates got all dressed up for it – Magic Jim even put on a waistcoat – and then they realized they were actually going to have to launch fast food restaurants. Honestly, what a waste of an outfit.

For the first time in about a decade, Lord Sugar decided to keep everyone in the same teams. So that meant it was Tom and Helen against Jim, Natasha and Susan, who seemed to have an advantage. Not just because they had more people. They also had Natasha, who was very keen to point out that she’s got a BA (Hons) in Hospitality Management.

Unfortunately for her, nobody gave a shit, and so Magic Jim ended up project manager anyway.

And so, the cultural ignorance began. Tom and Helen managed to be entirely ignorant of their own culture, which takes a special kind of idiocy. They based their MyPy idea on the great British institution of pie and mash, which seemed a plan until they started coming up with the names of “great Britons”. At which point they decided to name a pie after that terribly well-know Brit, Christopher Columbus. It took Nick pulling a stupid face at them for them to realise he’s not 100% British, and even then they don’t quite seem to get it. Bless.

Jim and co. meanwhile, decided on a Mexican theme and inexplicably chose to name it after the capital of Venezula. Except they didn’t realise that. They thought that Caracas was a made up word. And then they put an apostrophe in there and turned it into Caraca’s, so that’s OK. Unfortunately they still decided to cling to old cultural stereotypes and filled the place with sombreros, but that was the least of their problems.

Because it turned out that Caraca’s weren’t just dabbling in some mild racism. They were also completely awful. Their food was cold, and looked like vomit, and took 25 years to arrive. Their test run customers weren’t impressed, Lord Sugar and his judges weren’t impressed, and their kitchen hand wasn’t impressed. And yet somehow, they all thought that it had gone well. That’s some industrial-strength delusion right there.

Unsurprisingly, MyPy won in a quiet and not massively entertaining kind of way. And so Jim, Natasha and Susan found themselves in a desperate scrabble for the final. Susan and Natasha both thought that Jim should go, because they’d decided that he’s the Apprentice’s very own Lord Voldemort and would eat their souls if he stayed, or something. But Jim wasn’t having any of that.

Ever the bullshit artist, Jim decided to turn his magic to Natasha’s seemingly ill-fated degree. You know, her BA (Hons) in Hospitality Management. During the course of which she refused to focus on food, because she didn’t like it. Lord Sugar didn’t seem to like her argument that she couldn’t be expected to know things about hospitality just because she had a degree in it, and seemed to accuse her of killing people. Or maybe we misunderstood. He was saying something about first aid, anyway, which might be the same as hospitality. Or at least is what you’re likely to need after eating this lot’s food.

Anyway, Natasha ended up getting fired, mostly because she didn’t pay attention during her degree. That sent Jim and Susan through to join Tom and Helen in the final, but they weren’t done with insulting each other yet. No, they still had to tear each other to shreds in the taxi. Not literally, unfortunately. That would’ve made some truly great TV.

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Last night saw the Apprentice candidates plumb new depths of idiocy. Lord Sugar literally told them what to do, and they still managed to cock it up. Spectacularly. Apparently having someone explaining everything to you step-by-step isn’t enough for this bunch of imbeciles.

Their task was simple; sell a load of crap, reinvest in the most successful crap, and then sell some more of it.

Somehow, this was too complex a concept for any of them to grasp, with the exception of Magic Jim. And, shockingly, Tom and Susan. Seems there might be some truth to that crap about the meek inheriting the earth, although for our own sake hecklerspray hopes not.

Anyway, there was one question which had everyone’s attention (well, maybe three peoples’ attention). Can Helen ever actually lose? It seemed impossible, but then she got stuck with Melody, who, shockingly enough, had absolutely no idea what was going on. The two of them ended up trawling around pound shops in the East End, trying to sell them £50 watches, before becoming fixated on selling duvets to one shop. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to them that these places already had wholesalers.

Tom, meanwhile, was down on the Southbank, selling nodding dogs to tiny little children. He tried to tell Melody that they should buy more of them – after all, Lord Sugar had repeatedly told him to “smell what sells” and then get more – but Melody wasn’t having any of it. Instead, she inexplicably bough a crapload of weird electrical items. Nobody seemed quite sure why.

Over at Venture, Natasha hadn’t grasped the task either. She refused to reinvest, because she’s an idiot. Luckily for her though, she had Susan and her tacky jewellery, and Magic Jim, who is a selling genius. And he’s not afraid to pimp himself out. He offered hugs and kisses free with his goods. He even got his nemesis Nick to say he quite liked him. After a few quiet weeks, it seems that the magic is back!

In the boardroom, Lord Sugar couldn’t understand how Natasha ENTIRELY MISSED THE POINT of the task, even after he’d told it to her. He was so angry that he fined them £100, but unfortunately stopped short of giving her a smack about the head with a mallet. Thanks to the Magic of Jim though, they still managed to get through, but they weren’t given a treat. Natasha then tried to blame it on Susan, whilst Jim just sat there. We anticipate bitching. And sniping. And then a bit more bitching.

So that means the impossible happened – Helen lost. Lord Sugar heard about Helen’s attempt to steal the project manager job from Melody, and wanted to know what she would have done. Her plan would have been to try and get massive orders from retailers and to ignore the general public, so she completely missed the point of the task as well. Can any of them follow simple instructions? It appears not.

Before making his final decision, Lord Sugar gave everyone one last chance to redeem themselves. Melody tried to justify herself by pointing out that she was in the Queen’s Speech or something, whilst Helen just tried to point out that she’d won every task. All Tom had to offer was the fact that he still has a huge amount to show Lord Sugar, which sounded a bit dirty. Disturbingly, hecklerspray quite liked it.

In the end, Lord Sugar seemed to be at a bit of a loss on who to fire. Eventually though, he got round to firing Melody and her epic eyeliner, mostly because she’s too gobby to be in a boardroom with him. We’re sure the Dalai Lama will be glad to have her back.

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Last night on the Apprentice it was all-out war. About biscuits. Yes, that’s right, those little snacks that you dunk in your cup of tea were enough to inspire vitriolic hatred of hecklerspray proportions. We’re almost proud.

It turns out that biscuits are a very serious thing. So serious that Lord Sugar felt the need to interrupt a nice Sunday evening at the Apprentice house to make an ominous entrance and demand that his minions make him shiny new biscuits to pitch to some supermarkets. Of course, he had to reorganise said minions first, so Helen, Jim and Natasha became Venture, whilst Zoe, Susan, Melody and Tom formed Logic.

And then the fighting began.

Project Manager Helen booted Magic Jim off to Wales to come up with their biscuit. He decided that what the world needs more of is hyperactive children, so produced a sickly-sweet flapjack with a whacking great chocolate star on it. Apparently, it was an after school treat that was for any time, which perplexed Natasha. She spent large chunks of the show claiming that their biscuit had the power to alter time and make after school any time (yep, she lost us too), whilst Helen and Jim just told her repeatedly to shut up.

That wasn’t the real warfare though.

No, the apocalyptic battle was over at Logic, where Melody and Zoe spent most of the show just about managing not to claw at each other’s faces. It all started at the factory, where Zoe dispatched Melody and Tom. Melody wanted to make biscuits the new popcorn – which as far as hecklerspray could tell meant making biscuits which look like a massive shit covered in some undigested marshmallows – but the focus group weren’t having any of it. So she switched to heart-shaped biscuits. Which Zoe hated.

Zoe, it turns out, is allergic to the concept of a target market. The heart biscuit would have had too obvious a niche, and she wanted to make a biscuit for the masses. And so Zoe sided with Tom and his weird biscuit within a biscuit which is sort of covered in chocolate and which you can definitely share, leaving Melody whinging “I don’t like it” down the phone line at her. Zoe obviously didn’t care, because she apparently couldn’t give a shiny shit about Melody.

But that was just the beginning of the battle. Yes, the nuclear apocalypse was yet to come, and it happened in a south London branch of Asda, of all places. Still determined to not have any kind of target market, Zoe instead launched herself at Melody, causing a giant row right by the flowers. Right before their pitch. Where they then proceeded to act out some strange role-play where they were best friends having the magical sharing biscuit.

Once again though, the true magic was with Jim. He was planning to use his skills to create an insanely expensive advertising campaign for their after school anytime Shooting Star biscuit, and wanted to tie-in with Harry Potter. Apparently you have to go big, or go home.

Luckily for Jim, his magic seemed to pay off. Asda put in an order for 800,000 units, completely destroying Zoe who got a resounding zero orders from three different supermarkets. The win meant that project manager Helen is still yet to lose a task. She’s clearly amazing. They may as well just give her the money now.

Of course, they won’t be doing that, because there’s still some reality TV to be dragged out of the carcasses of this lot’s dignity. And so, in the boardroom, Zoe launched into another battle with Melody, because apparently she hadn’t quite got it out of her system in Asda. Apparently she had no personal problems with Melody. Nobody believed her.

And so, it came to the inevitable firing. Lord Sugar led us briefly to believe that “hindsight man” Tom was going to be the one to go, but in the end he got rid of Major General Zoe. Outside the boardroom, Melody walked straight past her without even saying goodbye. That’s the kind of hatred hecklerspray likes to see.

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Last night’s Apprentice was the filthiest yet. It turns out that Natasha wants everyone to blow their loads, which frankly is a mental image that hecklerspray could do without. Especially the image of Tom. He looks like he’d probably cry, and nobody ever needs to see that. We might need therapy just to get over the thought of it. Lots and lots of therapy.

Thankfully the filth wasn’t just there to disturb us. No, it was filth in the name of publishing. And we don’t mean the stuff that’s hidden on the top shelf. We mean the free magazines that annoying people shove in your face on the way to work in the morning, which are apparently called “freemium” magazines. That’s a horrible term though, so we won’t be using it ever again.

Before he let the contestants loose on the publishing world though, Lord Sugar had to make a scary entrance and re-jig the teams again. Jim got moved over to Venture, whilst Leon took over his spot at Logic. It seemed a pointless move, but then Lord Sugar announced from his ominous looming spot that he wanted Natasha and Jim to be project managers. Which is where the filth came in.

For Natasha, it seems, is a complete filth merchant. Seriously, the girl’s disgusting. If she were a Hollywood starlet we’d be faced with photos of her unmentionables on an almost daily basis, and she’d absolutely love it. But thankfully, so far her filth is contained to the pages of her little lad’s mag, which she was hell-bent on publishing.

In her endless quest for smut she managed to ignore her team, her focus group, and even the title of her own magazine. They were all pointing towards a more “high-brow” lad’s mag experience with a bit of a business focus, but that would’ve got in the way of the tits. And so, Logic ended up with a magazine called “Covered” with a scantily-clad woman on the cover, and a feature about how people “blow their load”. Which managed to embarrass the entire male population of London during the on-street interviews. Natasha claims she’s talking about spending money, but we know she lies.

Over at Venture, Nick declared war on Magic Jim. Apparently trying to nail anything on Jim is like “trying to nail jelly to a wall”, because he’s just so bloody charming he makes everyone else agree with him. And it seems Nick might be right. Jim made them all agree they should launch a magazine aimed at over 60s. He convinced them all that they should produce a really boring and condescending magazine even though that’s exactly what their focus group told them not to do. He even talked everyone into going with Zoe’s appalling name “Hip Replacement”, despite the fact it was obviously going to alienate everyone. It may as well have been called ‘Oxygen Thieves’ or ‘Just Die Already. You may think that’s far fetched, but ‘Coffin Dodgers’ was a genuine suggestion for this tawdry freebie.

It turned out though, that alienating readers was the least of Venture’s troubles, because they still had the advertising pitches to worry about. For all his magic, Jim just couldn’t grasp the concept of negotiation, and so swung wildly from refusing to negotiate at all to slashing his advertising rates in half. Meanwhile Natasha couldn’t stay away from the filth long enough to allow Leon to finish his pitch, but that didn’t seem to matter since apparently their concept was SO 1995, darling.

Despite having fallen into some smut-coated time warp, Logic ended up on top (we’re sorry. We had to) after one agency bought up all the ad space in their entire publication, thus setting up the biggest boardroom battle yet.

We’re not talking about Jim and Glenn both turning on Susan (which they did, but with that tiny meeping voice, that’s to be expected). No. We’re talking about Nick’s deep-seated and passionate hatred of Magic Jim. He’s picked up on the magic, you see, and he’s not at all happy about it. And he seemed really pissed off about Jim running an article in his magazine which teaches over 60s how to use the phone. And he hates the way Jim covers his arse. Really, he just seems to want him dead.

Unfortunately for Nick though, Lord Sugar decided to give Jim another chance, and fired Glenn instead. Which seemed to be just because Glenn is an engineer, and apparently they’re shit at business.

What we’re really looking forward to though, is finding out what Susan does with the advice that she needs to be a Big Person. We’re really hoping this means she’ll spend all of next week’s task on stilts, and maybe in a sumo suit. She won’t get much bigger than that.

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Last night’s Apprentice was all about rubbish. Actual, literal rubbish. There are so many puns in hecklerspray’s brain right now, but we’re not going to make any of them. That would be too obvious. Besides, this week was like a new show – it wasn’t all about Magic Jim!

Before the collective divs could get onto the task though – which was all about making money from collecting people’s detritus – there was a bit of housekeeping that had to be done. Team Logic, you see, are completely hopeless and have lost every single task so far this series. This meant that the numbers were unbalanced, so serial winner Helen got moved over to team Logic, where she immediately started annoying the crap out of Melody.

But that wasn’t all the bitchiness for this week. Over at Venture, Susie had apparently developed a mad hatred of Zoe, who insisted on being project manager (there just wasn’t time for democracy, apparently) at the expense of meek little Susie. In fairness to Zoe, Susie was just meeping something in the corner about how maybe she might sort of a little bit do it if nobody else could quite be bothered and other people thought it was a good idea and it was raining outside and a full moon and Venus was doing something special. And so began the quietest hatred in television history.

As with all tasks, the teams inevitably split, with the girls pitching for business whilst the boys drove round in circles looking for anything that they might possibly be able to sell on at profit. At the pitches, Logic took the risky strategy of taking people’s crap away for free, whilst at Venture, Zoe apparently completely misunderstood everything that was going on. She wanted to charge people money to give her their valuable office equipment. Meeping Susie attempted to correct her, but was instead told she was an idiot. And yet Zoe was the one who ended the day in tears. This lot really care about rubbish, it seems.

Out on the streets, Magic Jim and Tom took to yelling at people through a megaphone. Especially number 73. They’ve got something Magic Jim really wants. In the end though, they ended up doing a deal with a dodgy builder who incurred the wrath of the Magic One by adding more crap to the pile after the handshake. Does he not realise who he’s messing with? Jim could turn him to dogshit if he wanted!

Venture meanwhile, succeeded in finding Crawford from 2006’s Shipwrecked. Remember him? No? Just us? Ah well, either way, he provides the teams with a chilling reminder of what life after reality TV holds, which seems to be hanging around in plumbers yards in Fulham, and a slightly dodgy haircut.

After a mad rush to get everything collected on time, the teams headed to the boardroom, where it seemed that Helen’s incredible winning ability had paid off for Logic, as they won by a mere £6. Either that, or Jim’s decided to use his magic for winning now that he’s got rid of those he hates most.

Zoe took Susie and and Edna back in with her, and for a while it looked like Susie’s incredibly meek uprising was going to be the highlight of the show. But then Edna decided to talk.

Not content with making a massive dick of herself earlier by claiming credit for anything and everything that went well with the task, Edna decided to claim credit for entire companies. She trains Chief Executives to be better at their jobs, you see. Everything good that has ever happened in the world is down to her.

Shockingly enough, Lord Sugar fired her being a pompous arse. Shame we’ll never know what those gloves were about.

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This week’s Apprentice was all about the always embarrassing advertising task, where Lord Sugar had his minions create, brand and launch a new pet food. The real theme of this week though seemed to be ignoring everyone. Except for the artist formerly known as Magic Jim.

Focus groups, team members, Nick’s ridiculous expression? THEY MATTER NOT! It’s just about what Glenn and Jim want. Even though Jim isn’t even the team leader for Logic. That’s Vincent, who seems to be the only person who hasn’t got bored with Jim’s magic yet.

Frankly, hecklerspray is annoyed that he hasn’t used his powers to make someone do something truly diabolical, but has just been using them for mediocre business. If we were him, we’d be messing with people’s voices, and faces, and probably also minds. It’s just a waste.

Over in the Jim-free land of Venture, Glenn was intent on overruling everything that his team came up with and doing it all himself. He dispatched half his team to sort out the focus group and branding, and then promptly ignored everything they had to say and insisted on a ridiculous kitty diet food called “Cat-Size”. Which apparently allows you to “see their light”.

Nope, we’ve no idea either.

Meanwhile, Magic Jim convinced Vincent to launch a product which is aimed at literally every single dog that’s out there. And to call it “Everydog”. A vet tells them it’s just about the worst idea of all time, but Vincent’s not having any of it. Even being told by a bunch of experts at the pitch meeting that it’s a dreadful idea isn’t enough to put him off. Who cares that dog owners want specialised food? Jim loves it, so it must be wonderful.

Venture, meanwhile, left it to Leon to do their pitch despite the fact that he laughed in Glenn’s face when told the concept. And even though he was given a full day to write said pitch, Leon mostly babbled crap and laughed nervously. Apparently, “see their light” means that your cat will glow after eating this food. We’re not sure what they’re putting in it, but if that’s the result we definitely want to get our hands on some and start sabotaging the neighbourhood kitties.

In the end, it turned out that glowing cats are preferable to boring dogs, so Sith Lord Sugar declared Venture the winners. Everyone seemed to be lining up to assassinate Magic Jim, and for one sweet moment we thought we wouldn’t have to deal with his half-arsed magic any longer. And then Vincent let him off. Again. At this point we can only hope that next week everyone finally gets sick of Jim and kills him in his sleep. He has our love no longer.

Vincent still loves Jim though, so he dragged Ellie and Natasha back into the boardroom with him. Despite the fact that Natasha’s ad was the only decent thing about their entire campaign. In the end, Ellie got fired for being a bit boring, and it looks like Vincent will live to bum Jim for another week.

But wait! Lord Sugar’s not done yet! In a shock twist, Vincent gets the chop as well. And it’s all because of that pesky Jim.

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Last night saw the Apprentice’s buying task return to our screens. Think the candidates are only good at losing money? Turns out they can’t spend it either. It’s almost a shame they’re not in charge of the economy – their complete lack of spending skills would’ve stopped us ever getting into this nasty budget deficit mess. Take note, Cameron and Clegg.

Anyway, this week the teams were faced with the seemingly simple task of buying a buttload of stuff for the exceptionally swanky Savoy hotel.

They had 9 hours to find 10 items, which as anyone who’s ever been on Amazon will tell you, is really pretty simple. Except this is The Apprentice, so they made a complete hash of it. Obviously.

Before they got to ruining their own careers though, Lord Sugar had to rejig the teams. It turns out the boys have been relentlessly crap for the past two challenges, and so for the sake of equality he shuffled all the teams about to make sure everyone had equal numbers. Pretty Leon, Magic Jim, and Quite Dull Glenn got shifted over to Venture, whilst Natasha, Ellie and Zoe got thrown into Logic. We wanted to make a joke about them, but they’ve previously been so dull we completely forgot they existed. The only thing of note about Logic was that Dalai Lama Melody joined them.

Got that straight? No. Us neither.

After the obligatory power battle, Gavin emerged as leader of Logic, whilst Susan volunteered herself to lead Venture. Unfortunately for Logic, Gavin went for the irony factor and displayed absolutely zero logic or reason at any point in their search.

Instead he appointed Smarmy Vincent as sub-team leader, failed to send anyone out to do anything for over three hours, and decided that their mystery item – a cloche – must be something you get from a garden centre. Because obviously, what the Savoy needs is a small greenhouse.

Venture meanwhile decided to spend ALL OF THE MONEY IN THE WORLD on their products. Need some fabric? Buy it in Mayfair! Want a top hat? Go to the top retailer (although in fairness, who knew there was more than one top hat retailer?). Fancy some tea? Find someone who wants to charge you £900 for it, and then pretend this is a reasonable proposition! None of this mattered though, because Susan had Magic Jim on her side. His cheeky Irish charm and wizard-like skills made it all okay, and they escaped from the boardroom and into some kind of contortionist show in Covent Garden. Magic Jim looked very happy. But then he would. He’s magic.

Back in the boardroom, Smarmy Vincent decided that what he really needed to do when on the losing team was pretend that it was all his idea all along. Unfortunately, everyone else pointed out that he wasn’t so much an inspired leader as a controlling, phone-snatching cockface, and he found himself back in the boardroom alongside Gavin and Zoe.

Who we forgot to notice. Again.

In the end, Gavin got himself fired for failing to keep Vincent and his facial hair under control, thus setting up the greatest power battle since the Cold War. Who will win? Smarmy Vincent, or Magic Jim? We don’t really care. We just hope Lord Sugar has the good sense to keep these two puppet masters knocking about for a few weeks longer.

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