Last night The Apprentice dabbled in poor Franglais and mildly racist yet entirely subconscious accents. Yes, Lord Sugar sent his minions to Paris to sell their crap to the French. He wants international business people, you see, as you can’t take over the world if your company’s only in the UK.

Unfortunately for everyone else, Melody was the only one who could actually speak French, setting in motion her plan for world domination. She’s like The Brain, but with better eyeliner. And Leon was her (slightly more attractive) Pinky.

Before Melody could get cracking with taking over everything though, Lord Sugar needed to rejig the teams. Helen got booted over to Venture, where Susan put herself forward for project manager, despite seemingly having no idea what France even is. That was OK though, because she got to play with fun little products, like the kiddy’s chair and the kiddy backpack. She clearly missed it when Lord Sugar told her to act like a “Big Person” at the end of last week.

Over at Logic, Melody was being big enough for everyone. Tom wanted to sell the much coveted children’s backpack (apparently it turned into a booster seat or something. hecklerspray wasn’t really listening, because if there’s one thing we hate more than people in general it’s children) but Melody was having none of it.   She and Leon had been sent ahead to Paris to do some market research whilst Tom and Natasha stayed back in London to pick the product.

Unfortunately for Tom though, Melody’s version of market research seemed to be to just make things up. According to her, nobody drives in Paris and so those massive traffic jams are the result of evil cars getting too smart for their own good and just planting themselves in the middle of the road. It’s not really what anyone said to her, but it was her story and she was sticking to it. She could get away with this devilish plan because Leon’s complete lack of linguistic skill meant he had no clue what was going on at any point in time and so just stood there drawing some pretty pictures and smiling awkwardly.

Not content with forcing Tom to sell a stupid teapot light and some weird postcard with added cress, Melody then refused to hand over any appointments to anyone else and just went to them all herself. Tom and Natasha were reduced to phoning strangers and asking to speak to the postcard manager, whilst Leon just stood around looking pretty. For a change.

Back at Venture, meanwhile, Susan’s idea of a great pitch to a massive company was to sit on a booster seat and go “look how small I am!”. Thankfully for her, Helen was there to completely ignore her and bash ahead, netting the team over £200,000 of orders for the weird kiddy chair. The woman might actually be a genius.

Having been comprehensively shat on from a great height by Venture, Tom inevitably elected to bring both Pinky and the Brain back into the boardroom with him, where everyone ignored the fact that Brain-y Melody attempted to ruin the task single-handedly. Leon insisted he was at a disadvantage because he couldn’t speak the language, thereby completely ignoring the fact that everyone else was speaking English the entire time. Tom, meanwhile, tried to cover the fact he sold absolutely nothing by telling Lord Sugar he’s going to be bigger than Dyson.

And Melody?   Well, Melody’s an award-winning genius, don’t you know? She’s even Woman of the Future, which means we’re in for a terrifying time of odd beverage-themed lighting and huge eyeliner.  At the end of it all, Leon got fired for having done nothing but drawing pretty pictures, and some standing about.  Because it turned out that, Lord Sugar liked Melody’s hunger, so she got to stay. Despite being a megalomaniacal monster who is hell-bent on the destruction of the human race.   So a bit like hecklerspray then.

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Thanks to a mixture of Easter, Dancing On Ice and our utter, utter cluelessness when it comes to scheduling, we have a treat for you.

That’s right, we’re going to be profiling two Eurovision 2009 entries per day from now on. Unless we’ve made another miscalculation. Which we suspect we have. Anyway, the point is that with double the Eurovision goodness every day, you’ll be twice as happy. Or twice as morbidly depressed. You’re welcome, readers!

Here’s the Eurovision rundown for Waldo’s People from Finland and Patricia Kaas from France…

Finland · Waldo’s People, Lose Control

As is becoming depressingly familiar, Eurovision this year is mostly made up of a load of continental X Factor cast-offs – so it’s nice to see Finland entering a group who have apparently pioneered Finnish dance music for the last decade. And what exactly does Finnish dance music sound like? Well, if Lose Control is any example, it’s basically bad trance music featuring a middle-aged man in a baseball cap shouting all kinds of indecipherable nonsense. Apparently the lyrics to Lose Control begin with the line “I got this panic emotion that I cannot describe to you” which seems a little bit redundant. If you can’t describe it in words, Waldo’s People, can’t you draw a picture or something? Not only would you be able to describe your emotion more effectively, but you’d also be sparing us all the crappy 15-year-old trance music as well. Just a suggestion.

France · Patricia Kaas, Et s’il fallait le faire

France have played a couple of blinders at Eurovision lately, especially last year when Sebastian Tellier came on in a golfcart, sung some impossibly cool cutting-edge electro and then performed the final verse while sucking helium out of an inflatable globe. It certainly made a change from all the drearily existential piano jazz ballads that France traditionally enters. So this year France has maximised upon this by releasing Et s’il fallait le faire by Patricia Kaas – perhaps the drearyist existential piano jazz ballad ever written. “And if it had to be done, I would repel the winter,” it goes, “With hard blows of springtime and long clear mornings.” Which actually makes it sound sort of chirpy, until you listen to it and realise that it sounds exactly like a drawn-out carbon monoxide poisoning. It’s a gigantic step backwards for France, and the organisers are obviously banking on Patricia Kass’s international appeal for success. But on the basis of Et s’il fallait le faire, all of her fans will be too busy trying to smother themselves with cushions to vote.

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In the ongoing saga of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie ‘having some twins’, you would probably think the ridiculous media hysteria couldn’t get much worse.

Well, you’re wrong. Because they’ve finally gone and released pictures of the A-list couple’s bundle of gametes – though fortunately there doesn’t seem to be a Bono in sight. That would be too much.

Popping up on Hello! and People over the weekend, the images show… some famous people with their newborn kids. Seriously – what did you expect? Hecklerspray hoped the photos would include explosions, a car chase et al, but those hopes were well and truly dashed on their release. Typical.

And to confound matters further it gets leaked that these pictures cost the magazines $14 million dollars. Now, granted, that’s only about £20 with today’s exchange rate – but the fact remains that a staggering amount of cashmoney was paid for some pictures. Of some young children. To show to people who have no actual connection with said children.

Rather than getting annoyed at Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, for once we’re going to turn and pour scorn on everyone else in the world. Because, apparently, we live in a world where it is a sound business practice to pay fourteen million dollars for some pictures of some kids. Christ – we can’t even be annoyed at mum and dad as they’ve gone and donated their fee to charity, rather than throw it on their Scrooge McDuck-sized pile.

After the four-decade pregnancy, the ‘has she-hasn’t she had them’ crap that circulated when the couple ran off to France followed by the frighteningly standard names dished out to the sprogs, it comes as something of a disappointment that Brad and Angelina can’t top the whole saga off with a grand gesture.

Not that donating $14 million to charity isn’t a grand gesture – we just mean a grand gesture that we’d like to see. Like giving their good pals hecklerspray a few million to cover the bills (credit crunch, you see). Or by using the money to have a giant cannon built on the top of a mountain, which could be used to shoot any country seen to be being nasty to its orphans. That’s certainly something Brad and Angelina seem to care about, plus it’s entertaining enough to make other people in the world care.

But no – it’s been, gone and ended up in some charity coffers. So all we can do is point our accusing, sardonic finger in the direction of the stinking, smelly media. The media who will pay fourteen million dollars for some light captured on a digital imaging chip after it has reflected off the noggins of two famous people and the creased-up meatwads they have just birthed. This is the kind of world we live in.

The kind of world where Bono is not only allowed to be said meatwads’ godfather, but also the kind of world where he is allowed to go on living. There are some things in this world that just make you want to break down and openly weep. In public. While naked. At rush hour.

This is probably the best example we’ve ever come across.

It’s long been a dream of ours to dress up in camouflage and hold a pitched battle on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s front lawn.

Sadly, our stupid sense of common decency has always held us back from achieving our goal, which is why we’ve decided to live vicariously through the two camouflaged photographers who’ve been questioned by police after fighting with guards on Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s property in France.

What exactly happened is a mystery – the guards and photographers are both accusing the other side of battery – but it’s clear why the paparazzi were on Brad and Angelina’s property in the first place. Apparently the garden is a haven for a rare breed of yellow wagtail, and the photographers would have got a first-rate shot of them if Angelina Jolie’s stupid twins didn’t keep getting in the bloody way.

You’d have thought that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie would understand by now, surely. Understand that they should never leave America again, obviously. We’re being serious.

Look at it this way – in America Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie get hounded by the paparazzi, but never for very long. Give the paparazzi a few days and they’ll get bored and go take pictures of Lindsay Lohan‘s knickers or something. That’s how it works.

But when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie go anywhere else, the paparazzi onslaught is furious and relentless. When they were in Namibia, for instance, Brad and Angelina had paparazzi arrested all the time, not realising that people were so only keen to take their picture because it meant not having to trail second-rate silimba players around for a living.

Then there was India, where the paparazzi was so desperate to snap Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie that one member of the press was apparently choked by their security, a boy was knocked off a bike and there was an almighty battle at a school.

But now Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are in France, and that’s bound to be different, right? After all, the French national sense of detached ennui would prevent them from getting their knickers in a twist over a couple of vulgar American moviestars, right?

Nope – just one day after Brad Pitt warned the media not to publish any photos of his babies that were secretly taken by the paparazzi, there’s been a bit of a scuffle between Brad and Angelina’s guards and some camouflaged photographers they supposedly in the grounds of their chateau.

According to reports, two members of the paparazzi were caught in an altercation with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s security guards last night, while presumably trying to take photos of the couple with their newborn twins.

It all sounds so crass, doesn’t it? A bunch of typically heavyhanded gorillas getting in a scrap with some people so desperate for cash that they’d dress up as extras from Predator to take a picture of a couple of babies that, we’re guessing, just look like sodding babies anyway? Urgh.

Luckily French police spokeswoman and brand new hecklerspray hero Capt. Olivia Poupot has more than enough bored disdain to go around. After taking the paparazzi and the guards for questioning, Poupot said:

“I won’t hide for you that this kind of thing is really not the type of problem that interests us. There are, in my opinion, far more important things than paparazzi taking photos of a glamor couple.”

Genius. We want Olivia Poupot to be the French police spokeswoman of our heart.

But still, at least this means Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie can add France to their list of countries they can’t go to without kicking off some sort of violent dispute with the press. They’re running out of options, aren’t they?

There’s always Luxembourg, we suppose. And we can guarantee that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie will definitely move there, just as soon as our ‘Hey beleagured moviestars! Have you seen how many malnourished brown orphans live in Luxembourg?’ tourism campaign gets some funding.

This is it – the moment that everyone with a slightly sinister personal investment in the lives of people they're never likely to meet has been waiting for.

That's right, Angelina Jolie has been checked into a French hospital so that she can give birth to those babies that have been clogging up her insides for what seems like a couple of years. Don't worry, though, Angelina Jolie isn't going to have her twins just yet – she's just checked in for a rest before all the gory stuff happens.

But it's still exciting. What will Angelina Jolie call her children this time? We're actually hoping that the twins are named after something specific to the region they're born in – in which case we can expect to soon be introduced to little Unshaven Female Armpit Jolie-Pitt and its sibling, Halfhearted Attitude To Work Jolie-Pitt.

Is it just us, or has this Angelina Jolie pregnancy been a little bit of a letdown? Last time you'll remember that Angelina Jolie embarked on an epic voyage to Namibia to have her baby, where she managed to combine giving birth with raising global awareness of one of the world's most desperately impoverished regions.

This time? This time Angelina Jolie's going to have her twins in Nice, where she'll be able to combine giving birth with raising global awareness of, what, fancy yachts? Overpriced salads? That's hardly trying very hard, is it?

Anyway, after months and months of watching Jack Black put his foot in it, and getting fooled by at least one humiliatingly premature birth report, Angelina Jolie is finally ready to have those twins of hers. Yesterday Angelina checked into a hospital where she plans to try out some of the famous French bedpans for a few days before a Frenchman comes along and hacks the babies out of her. This Is London reports:

The Hollywood star will stay at the clinic in Nice until she has given birth as part of a pre-booked appointment in a maternity clinic. Spokeswoman for the Hospital Lenval clinic, Nadine Bauer, told America's In Touch magazine: 'Ms. Jolie came to the hospital last night as part of a preplanned rest period, before she gives birth. 'The visit has been planned for a long time, there are no complications. She is just resting.'

And what a rest it'll be – surrounded by the agonised screams and unexpected pooing of several other heavily pregnant women. We don't know about you, but that's how we like to relax as well. We can't even go to sleep now unless we're listening to a soothing CD of a woman crapping herself and shrieking "Get it out of me! GET IT OUT OF ME!" for 18 hours. Honestly, Angelina Jolie sure is one lucky lady.

Anyway, don't hold your breath for Angelina Jolie to give birth any time especially soon, because she has to wait for her American gynaecologist Jason Rothbart to fly to France before anything gets to snake along her birth canal.

But they're coming, so you only have a few more days until you're clobbered over the head with a billion mindnumbing magazine pictures of Brad Pitt gurning at two anonymous-looking babies. We just hope you can wait that long.

Hoist the flags and sound the trumpets – Angelina Jolie has either given birth to twins or farted really, really loudly!

Reports are flooding in that Angelina Jolie has given birth to twins in France. However, right now nobody seems to know how unpregnant Angelina Jolie actually is because, while the reports are mostly convincing, it appears that Angelina has given the twin girls vaguely sensible names. And if we know Angelina Jolie, we know that she’d rather stab a baby in the face than give it a name that she hasn’t just made up from a random combination of letters on a whim.

Anyway – Angelina Jolie! Babies! Birth! Let’s go!

People, however pretty you thought you were when you woke up this morning, get ready to feel crushed because you’re uglier than a couple of screaming newborn babies. Reports are coming in thick and fast that Angelina Jolie has given birth to those twins of Brad Pitt‘s that she’s been openly growing inside her for a while.

Although Dustin Hoffman had claimed that the babies weren’t due until August, it appears he may have been playing a particularly lousy game of cat and mouse with everyone, because – after turning up in Cannes to promote Kung Fu Panda – it seems that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt simply pootled on up to Provence and gave birth to their twins there instead.

And, what’s more, the wine and cheese and slightly unsatisfactory work ethic of the nation might have got into Angelina Jolie’s brain, because – as Fox News reports in an unconfirmed claim – she’s given her twins mostly normal names:

According to reports in France, Angelina Jolie gave birth on Sunday at a Catholic clinic in the Aix-En-Provence region, OK! Magazine said Friday. French gossip sites reported that the babies were named Isla Marcheline and Amelie Jane, in honor of the girls’ grandmothers.

If it’s true, then it’s wonderful news – not only has Brad Pitt overcome his fear of how France smells a bit like cabbages, but it also means that the next time Angelina Jolie’s children have a fight, the biologicals will be equally matched against the adoptees. And we’re really only comfortable betting on children fighting to the death when we know that it’s a fair fight. We’re not animals.

Still, we’re sure that you’ll hear more about Angelina Jolie’s baby twins in the days and weeks and months and years to come – from their first lucrative magazine photoshoot deal through to the first time that Mummy and Daddy’s needlessly aggressive bodyguards beat someone up for getting within 50 feet of them to that glorious moment when years of being brought up in a damaging cocoon of fame explode in a mindless quest for public approval ends with them posing naked together for a low rent porno mag on their 18th birthday – so for now, congratulations.

UPDATE – Turns out Angelina Jolie didn’t give birth after all; there’s been an official denial:

“Angelina has not given birth. She is fine, enjoying her home and her family in France.”

We thought as much. Seriously, Amelie Jane? When she could have called it Jazzlebert Curflumberdingle? That’s just dumb.

What better way than to start a new week than by launching straight into some more of your favourite Eurovision betting odds?

Well, how about this – there’s now an official Eurovision karaoke competition for you to enter, too. Eurovision and Youtube have got together and the result is the Eurovision Be A Winner contest, where fans can send in videos of themselves performing this year’s Eurovision songs. If you enter this, please send us a link to your video. We want to know what your face looks like so we can make sure never to talk to you again, you see.

Here are the Eurovision betting odds for France, with help from Paddy Power…

France: (pop. 63,044,000; a country whose metropolitan territory is in western Europe) SÂŽebastien Tellier, Divine

Divine by SÂŽebastien Tellier has the unique honour of being the only song on hecklerspray‘s iPod that was there before we knew it’d be a Eurovision song. It’s a brilliant pop song – produced by one of Daft Punk, Divine comes off like the result of a fight between Brian Wilson, Timbaland and Cornelius, although one of those fights that ends with a disgusting display of three-way sexual intercourse between the combatants. It’s slippery, slight, modern and intelligent and, if the video above is any indication, Sebastien Tellier’s Eurovision performance is going to a highlight the likes of which we won’t have seen for years. However, Eurovision’s never really been very well known for its sophisticated, hiply ironic audience, so the poor bugger doesn’t stand a chance. But buy Sexuality, the album that this came from, anyway. It’s a little bit bloody good. Current Eurovision betting odds – 33/1

Tomorrow – FYR Macedonia! But if that’s too long to wait – or you feel like making more money than you know what to do with – head right over to the Paddy Power Eurovision betting odds page to see the latest, and best, betting odds.