The Apprentice, Series 3, Episode 6


 Scary Panel

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Finally Lohit actually featured in an episode – he was Project Manager on a task that saw the idiots packed off to France to sell English food to the French. Still, somehow Lohit managed to slide pretty squarely into the background. For some unfathomable reason the programme was edited as though Simon was the team leader, focusing on all his strengths (good French language skills) and weaknesses (two-faced silver-tongued berk). Up against Lohit – it was the moment I’d personally been waiting for since day one – Paul was to lead a team for the first time. And what a cloyingly posh, sneering simpleton he proved himself to be.

Dazed by his love for the nauseatingly fawning Fido Dido, Paul seemed to make every wrong decision count. Usually on this show, we’re shown a selection of mistakes by both team leaders. This time round, Paul clearly made so many boobs whilst staring at Fido’s that the errors actually submerged any mistakes Lohit made. It was an hour long Paul Disaster Movie, and all the more enjoyable for it.

The only errors I can remember being made by Lohit (and I’m sure you’ll pull me up on this) were his poor French ‘I have some products for you – are you interesting?’ and sharing a twin bedroom with Simon. As they turned out the light, Simon said ‘If you can’t be good, be careful’. I’m not sure he had control of his mind there – I’ll leave the insinuation for you to work out.

So, Paul had complete control and he screwed things up with all the might his puny frame could summon. Think of some English foodstuffs that might appeal to the fussy French palette. Stilton perhaps. Wensleydale. Hot English pies and crumbles. Strawberries and clotted cream. Yum. Now think of the kind of processed cheese you get from the off-licence when you’ve spent all day drinking and require cheese-on toast before your stomach eats itself and you puke up your kidneys. Imagine lumps the size of breeze-blocks of that kind of cheese in a nasty plastic wrapping. Imagine trying to sell that to a Frenchman, in France. Imagine going home with with it again. Imagine binning it, as you realise you are a complete fucking tool. You’d feel shame, wouldn’t you? You’d hold your hands up and say ‘bad idea’? Not so Paul.

Another mistake was to draw on his army days when cutting corners in finding a suitable stove to cook sausage samples on. Christ knows what he was doing with a flammable jelly, and that same good Lord only knows why Adam persisted in trying to get the bloody thing to work for several hours. Adam, while we’re at it, also blew a pocketful of cash on a nasty advertising hoarding that read ‘Traditionals Foods of English Mans’. It was a garbled, technicolour vomit-mess. But he was only following orders, it transpired.

In the end, the completely terrifying but refreshingly sensible Kristina tried to wrestle back some degree of sanity by sweet-talking her way into a local cafe and using their frying facilities. Things began to sell. Where was Paul while this happened? He was selling sausages for the price he paid for them and trying to flog pork to a fasting Muslim. Genius.

The boardroom was 12 minutes of very predictable banter. It was crystal clear Paul was going to go. He had to. He also fell into the trap of choosing people to go back with him into the boardroom simply because he didn’t like them, or thought he could blame them. This isn’t Big Brother – this is survival of the fittest. How could Paul have thought for one second that Kristina might have got fired? She’s got ‘Apprentice Winner 2007’ written all over her thin-lipped face. Maybe he was trying to save Fido Dido. Which means we have to put up with her for another bloody week. Blast.

It’s interesting to consider how Adam is the only contestant from the North of England who is left in the house and reflect on how this influences his treatment from all the other bastards. Looking closely last night, it’s clear that he’s simply being bullied. Perhaps his nervousness when project managing the tiger-lolly task was fed a little by the fear that he’s being ousted as a Northern commoner by the more privileged of the pack – and here I’m looking at Fido ‘should-have-gone-three-weeks-ago’ Dido and Simon. It’s simple bullying. I just hope he toughens up and gives as good as he gets.

I think more of Jadine‘s malapropisms and gobbledegook is what’s required to keep things funny rather than nasty over forthcoming weeks – the business world ain’t all sandwiches and biscuits after all, right?

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16 Responses to “The Apprentice, Series 3, Episode 6”

  1. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    This was the best one yet by a Country Mile. It takes a certain sort of arrogance to go to France with two hundred weight of plastic crap purchased from a Cash ‘n’ Carry, sell none of it, have to throw it all in the bin and STILL blame the whole debacle on a banner and a bad attitude.

    This man deserves his own show. I want to see this chinless buffoon try flogging Ragu to the citizens of Rome, or Uncle Ben’s Curry Sauce in India.

  2. Swineshead Says:

    Definitely the best yet, a real squirmer.

  3. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    I nearly had an anurism laughing over that bean can burner thing and Alan’s reaction to it. Superb.

  4. piqued Says:

    That lisping fucking arsehole should’ve been raped by Sir Alan

  5. Swineshead Says:

    Hmmm – I think that might be taking it a little too seriously/too far.

    A slap round the chops would’ve been enough.

  6. Napoleon Cockaparte Says:

    To give Paul his dues, his idea of selling rubbish British cheese to the French is about as ridiculous as that clown Sugar trying to sell that idiotic phone thing to everyone else.

  7. piqued Says:

    Taking it too far and seriously?

    I’m sorry you’ve lost me there

  8. Paul Groves Says:

    Great comedy. Tre is turning into the master of the one-liner, if only he had the wit and intelligence to actually realise he is a comic genius.
    I’m mystified why Simon apears to be the “golden balls” of the show and apalled by Katie in every possible way.
    The rest aren’t fit to polish and hoover my so-called office let alone Sir Alan’s boardroom.

    (Thanks for the comment and there’s no such thing as a shameless plug –

  9. piqued Says:

    Tre is a sexist, racist fuck wit. I find him as funny as finding a lump in my testicle

  10. Swineshead Says:

    Don’t hold back son….

  11. scratchtoscratch Says:


    I love the concept of Paul selling Uncle Bens in India. The sad thing is that the show will be much less entertaining without Paul.

  12. Paul Groves Says:

    I am laughing at Tre, not with him. I cannot believe so much pig ignorance and blind arrogance can be packaged up in one person….what am I talking about? Of course I can.

  13. proudfoot Says:

    Let’s just keep it in perspective here kids – they should all be deleted from existence. All of them. They all stink.

  14. proudfoot Says:

    By the way Mr Groves, while, on the whole, I agree with your comments about Tre, to call him a comic genius is a bit of a stretch. The word Genius should never be placed alongside his name. It’s as paradoxical as calling God thick. Which of course he isn’t because he doesn’t fucking exist. And neither should Tre.

  15. Paul Groves Says:

    How about if I call Tre a comic penis instead?
    It rhymes (almost) with genius if you mispronounce one or the other.

  16. proudfoot Says:

    Good idea Paul.
    It creates a far more amusing image.

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