The Apprentice Flat-pack Frenzy (or The One With The Box On Wheels And The Folding Chair)

Think inside the box. Grey sky thinking. Nice.

Week three and we start this episode with a 6pm call.  The candidates, who've had a day off (WHAT?!) are all lounging around, painting their toenails.  Well, Jordan is having his toenails painted.  I'm sure that'll impress Shugs.  Actually, if Jordan wins, we'll know what tipped it, eh?  #tapsnose

Natalie takes the call, and is so excited that they're going to Islington (maybe she thinks that's Islington, Paris) that she hangs up with an excited squeak, rather than any kind of telephone etiquette.  The Design Building it is.  Much getting ready footage, including over-enthusiastic "game on" type talk and a boy bottom in a thong (yes, really), then the lucky cat in the hall waves them off to face their next task.

They all stand in the lobby, whilst Lord Sugar, Karren Brady and Nick Hewer loom over them from a balcony above.  The Design Building is home to the Design Council - and this week's task is to design a piece of flat-pack furniture, to retail at £75.  Since Apprentice candidates are usually incredibly practical, clear-thinking and design focused, this should be a doddle.  What's that?  I can hear the bwahahaha from here!

Lord Sugar sends the teams off with a "Fgs, girls, don't bloody lose again, you useless shower of twats" (I paraphrase) and it's on to choose their team leaders.

Natalie puts herself up for Team Evolve project manager.  Her business idea is focused around designing and manufacturing garments, so that's just like a piece of furniture, isn't it?  I wear wardrobes, bookcases and futons most days.  So, fabulous idea, I'm sure she'll do a sterling job of making a hammock out of knickerbockers or something.

Over to the boys and Jordan's in charge.  They really don't make much of a meal of who's being PM this year, do they?  Kurt, the long-haired health drink guru from Liverpool, has come up with a frankly revolting idea for a chair that doubles as a recycling bin.  Nick Hewer leaves the brainstorm to retch and generally spew bile in the direction of Kurt's suggestion, and then staggers back into the brainstorm, wiping traces of vomit from his lips.

There, he discovers Alex being told to "keep it brief" by Jordan.  Alex the Vampire has designed a flat-pack coffin... Oh, no, hang on, it's a chair that turns into a table with the nifty removal of a pin.  Interesting, that his idea quite literally hinges on what is basically a metal stake...

The boys don't come up with anything better, so it's the folding coffin - sorry, chair - for Endeavour.

The girls, meanwhile, have had Francesca pitching the idea of a cube which flips over to reveal a different function per side (laptop table, seat, er...table).  They all wet themselves with delight about how glorious an idea it is, then Leah starts suggesting that it could have an ice bucket, a bit to rest your drink in, a wine rack (she's a doctor, chaps) - and then it all goes mental, with them suggesting fondue sets, hedgehog rescue centres and helipads on various sides of the cube.

Karren sums it up when she says that there are a lot of talkers on this team and not many listeners.  Perhaps this is best evidenced when Rebecca is ignored totally, about 15 times, whilst Natalie stands next to a flipchart with "CLEVER CUBE" written at the top of the page.  Just writing it doesn't make it so, ladies, heaven help me, I should know that!

Alex calls the chair the "Foldo".  I think this may be his vampire poker name - Count Foldo.  Let's see how they get on when they take it to market research.

Sophie's done a lot of market research for her dissertation, so she's GOT to go and do market research.  Rebecca doesn't like the cube concept.  But she's sent off with Sophie anyway.  Francesca is also doing the market research and she doesn't think much of the cube either.  Er, wasn't it her idea?!  And - surprisingly, given their relentless positivity - in the first shop they go into, the chaps running it aren't keen on a cube - they'd prefer a desk-height table, otherwise you're hunched over when using it.  And they call the cube a "boring shape".

They ring Natalie, Leah, Luisa and Uzma to report back.  Gleefully.  As ever, the design team totally ignore the market research and plough on regardless.  Luisa does her best "Nikki from Big Brother" impression, saying, "A table!  Why wouldn't they just buy...a table?".  Leah looks generally pissed off, but maybe that's just her face at rest, who knows.

Jordan says the idea was very much Alex's concept, as he unveils it to the designers.  Jason looks on, whilst trying to rub his hair into a point, it seems.  He's worried about something - I wonder if he'll dare to speak after being called a stupid shit last week?  My money's on "of course he bloody will".

Myles is out with Zee and Kurt gathering valuable market research insight from the man on the street.  The men on the street are "not convinced about it".  They'd be "puzzled and troubled about it" and would "stand in their sitting room, crying".  The Foldo Chair, sit, fold and hold - there's a memorable strapline, chaps - yes, well done.

Meanwhile, the girls have designed a box with a lid.  The market research team are baffled by the whole concept, which always impresses Shugs - be sure to remember to all argue over who was responsible for the total failure of the task in the boardroom, won't you?

Jason speaks, as I predicted, to express how against upholstering the chair he is.  It's too complicated, it adds cost.  Everyone ignores him, but the boys decide to go with the market research and pad the chair (I think Alex just likes a cushioned satin-lined finish, preferably red).

Myles, Zee and Kurt visit an upholstery shop (much to Jason's horror, I'm sure), and Myles calls Zee the "king of bling".

The girls are designing their loathed-by-half-the-team cube.  Clever.  They suggest a tool-less solution, with the cube slotting together neatly.  They're brought back to the earth with a bump by their designer, who says it needs to overlap to slot together.  Well, OBVIOUSLY.  I think they may be the tools in their solution, don't you?  The beautiful curved form that Natalie had envisaged will apparently not be held together by unicorn wishes and magical butterfly kisses, it'll need sticky-out wood and stuff, which she dismisses as "too like a trolley".  Shame, she could get back on it, rather than try to come up with a storage-cum-chair-cum-table (no sniggering, go and learn bloody Latin, you plebs).  Anyway, with all this flipping you'd need to do, you could hardly store anything in it of any great import - it'd be scrambled egg by the time you'd used your laptop for a bit, eaten your dinner, sat down.  No use for storing your fine china or best biscuits.

Karren's unimpressed.  These girls all say they can manufacture, they can design - but there's no evidence of it yet.  Uzma seems to agree, saying they can't just produce a box with a lid, it needs to be "like, wow".  A bold design vision if ever I heard one.  Like, wow.

The boys all sit on a chair to see how tall a chair needs to be, in order to be a chair.  Good plan.  Alex is delighted to be in charge of seeing the design of his idea through - ahh, a happy little vampire, he was flapping his cape and clapping his lily-white hands with joy!

Jason's input, having not liked the cushioning of the chair, was to implore the rest of the team not to forget that women are smaller than men.  Again, his team-mates are dismissive, saying they're talking about single centimetres here.  C'mon, boys, any woman will tell you that that can make all the difference...  Also, Jason, what woman's going to sit on an un-upholstered chair?  FOOL!

Nick Hewer's worried.  His eyebrows are positively crumpled with distress.  Alex is pushing the boys so hard that they're making mistakes.  Nick's come up with a clever little soundbite, especially for Twitter - "Will this end up like a camel, which is, of course, a horse designed by a committee?".  Well done, Mr Hewer, well done.

The girls are trying to make their box with a lid less like a box with a lid.  Uzma's decided to put lines on the side, which they all like.  And they decide to buy a cushion to stick on the top.  And paint it all grey.  That'll make it less like a box with a lid, DEFINITELY.

The Evolve market research team are shopping for bits and pieces when they're phoned by the design team to ask them to get a cushion.  They're unimpressed, with Sophie asking why they're ignoring the market research so comprehensively.  Are they just listening to Luisa?

Francesca suggests they find a suitable cushion to Velcro to the lid.  They're in a DIY store, with 45 minutes left on the task, looking for a 35x35 cushion for the clever cube which is so brainy, it's changed design totally.

Now they're all on their way back to the house, with the boys all leaving the design studio through a small yellow door they have to climb through very awkwardly.  Irony and design, meeting in a glorious union of banged heads and cricked knees.  Marvellous.

At 8am the next day, their products arrive.  The boys are awed by their chair, which doesn't collapse when Alex sits on it - bonus!  The cushion isn't attached to the girls' cube, now called "Tidy Sidey" (catchy...like the plague) - the designers had left a note which said it wouldn't fit, but I think, reading between the lines, they meant something that rhymed with "wouldn't fit" - "it looked shit".  Because it did.

Sophie hates the product.  She wouldn't have it in her living room, she wouldn't pay £75 for it.  So, a roaring success.  Rebecca watches them try to sort a cushion out by pulling lots of the filling out.

Jason very poshly, demonstrates how the chair folds together, saying, "That goes clickety-boo, like that, clickety-boo".  The British public, as one, all sigh, "Ahh, what a total bell-end".

Uzma and Luisa have a ruck over the cushion, which isn't a way of saying that they added some embroidered detail - they really don't see eye to eye, do they?  In loud trilling voices, they all say positive things about the cube thing that is basically a box with a lid, without ever once saying "Oh, dear GOD, we've designed a box with a lid".  Karren doesn't like it.  And she doesn't like that the girls don't like it, however much they trill.  Can good come of this?  They'll have to do a bloody good job of their pitch, for this box on wheels.

They boys are arguing over who's going to pitch.  They're going to be doing a mix of pitching to big retailers and trogging round smaller shops.

On their way north in the back of the car, Neil moots the idea of the "sales orgasm" to Alex, who blushes.  Oh, no, hang on, that's just the blood of some young virgin still round his chops - must have had a crafty snack en route.  Anyway, the sales orgasm is the idea that you get them to say "yes" three times during your pitch and it shows they like your product.  That definitely sounds like some excellent sex there, Neil, well done you.

Zee's first to pitch to a shop.

He begins with saying they've identified a problem, and built a solution.  Well, sort of, Zee - wasn't it more that Lord Sugar told you to win this task?  But OK, crack on.  The man in the shop says they've made it too high (Jason turns into the Cheshire Cat at this point).  The woman in the shop says it's an interesting concept, but the current design is difficult for us.  You SEE, Zee, those couple of centimetres do matter!

The shop don't buy.  They let the rest of the team know, who aren't impressed with Zee's sales "ability".

Leah's excited to be in the shop, pitching to two chaps in dark shiny shirts.  They don't look as excited, to be perfectly honest, to be pitched at.  They like the function of the box on wheels, but not the design - Leah helpfully suggests it could go in another part of the house, but the reply of "one you couldn't see" is maybe not what she was hoping for.  The lines on the side - that el neato design touch from the Wizard of Zhuzh, Uzma - make it look like a garden planter.  Thud.

The overall feedback - the product isn't good or glossy enough.  And it's fucking grey.

Happily, the teams now head to Argos.

Luisa, Natalie and Sophie are pitching to the Argos team.  Luisa is the main voice of the pitch, demonstrating the quality of the wood, how it slots together, that there's storage in it, and not once mentioning that it's a box on wheels.

Unfortunately for them, the Argos team are pretty astute and one of their first questions is "isn't it just a box on wheels?".  Good call, Argos team.

Luisa really believes that this product will be a good fit for Argos and the pitch was rather convincing - the Argos team seem to like the storage it offers.  Maybe, just maybe...  Where's that unicorn when you need it?

And now the boys, with their Foldo.  Kurt, Dracula and Myles are pitching.  Alex spends much of the beginning of the pitch with his arse facing the Argos team, as he screws the chair...together.  I did wonder whether he'd taken the "sales orgasm" direction too literally for a moment.

The Argos team say "It's a bit high".  Jason was right, wasn't he?  Shouldn't they have shaved  a bit off the bottom of each leg before their next pitch?  Tsk.

Nick Hewer is horrified, his eyebrows doing their revolted beetling thing again - this time it's by Alex presenting his rather wide backside to the Argos buying team for the first part of the pitch as he put the chair together.  

Jordan then pitches to a shop in London, and gets an agreement to start with a trial order for 200 units.  Nice.

Francesca's turn to pitch - and she sells four to her first shop.  And then she's on a roll.  She actually starts pitching it as a box on wheels (AT LAST!).  The next shop take 20.  She's now only 176 behind Jordan's first sale...  Another 50 in the next shop - GAWD, this is tortuous, ladies!

The second big trade pitch is to John Lewis and it's Rebecca to front it.  The John Lewis team are - well, I think the word is "meh".

But wait till they see FOLDO and Myles decides to say they're pitching it to 16 to 40 year olds.  Yes, Myles, lots of 16-year-olds have £75 to spend on a folding high chair.  Of course they do.  Good LORD, man, have you not heard of Diamond White?

Jason's turn to pitch to a shop and he goes for a sky-high punt when he asks them to buy two...or maybe three...  Don't give yourself a fucking hernia, optimism man!

Zee's back on the pitching wagon again and Jordan asks him not to get "two ducks in a row".

But the woman in the shop doesn't think it's for her target market.  She thinks it's more "your British Home Stores".  Jordan wants Kurt to do the next pitch, despite Zee's protests, and he sells 12.

Leah rounds off the day by selling 100, bringing their total to 174.  They have an excited hug to finish the task (not like that, Neil).

BOARDROOM ALERT!

Smug looks are exchanged between the teams as they wait for Shugs.

Their products are on a table, for Lord Sugar to look at.  He quickly appraises them and asks the girls what they did.  He likes the no-screw assembly concept - probably because Hewer's told him of Alex's arse fiasco during the screwing-in at their Argos pitch.

But did the girls like their product?  Rebecca and Leah say not a lot.  The girls say that Natalie was a wonderful project manager and Natalie says she had a great team.  Shall we hope that this love-fest doesn't continue if they find themselves back in the boardroom later?  I don't think we need to hope - it never has yet!

Lord Sugar points out that he's a short bloke (he is, I've seen him and let's just say if he's small on telly, he's TINY when you see him in 3D real life with your actual eyes) and he's not sure he'd fit on the chair.  Nick Hewer says it looks like an electric chair (not really a surprise, given that it was designed by the Lord of Darkness himself, is it?  Alex has the grace to look shifty at this point).

Lord Sugar asks both project managers why they chose not to pitch to the big retailers.  Were they scared?  They both come up with some fluff-arsed no-answers made of bullshit and glitter which don't impress him much.  And Myles takes a bit of a knocking for trying to sell his chair to children.

Team Evolve:
174 units - shops
No orders - John Lewis

Team Endeavour:
216 units - shops
500 units - John Lewis (subject to a few tweaks - probably a couple of inches off the legs, eh?)

And now, the clincher, Argos...

Team Endeavour:
2,500 units

Team Evolve:
They really liked the pitch.  And they really liked the team.

But they hated the product and didn't place any orders.

So, Endeavour win the task with 3,216 units sold, to Evolve's 174.  And the boys are off to the O2, to walk across the top and take in the panoramic views of London.

Lord Sugar also gives Alex some kind words to take away with him - Foldo is one of the best products he's seen in all the years in the boardroom.  Very, very good indeed.

Back to the morose minnies, who've failed again.  Their product sucked, however good their pitch - like going into war with a peashooter, says Shugs.

The boys head down the river to the O2, spending some time ripping the piss out of the girls for trying to sell a box on wheels, then don blue boiler suits to protect themselves from, er, climbing up a bouncy slope or something, as they head up the O2 (do you remember when it was called the Millennium Dome and was the least cool place in the world?  Wow, amazing to think that remembering that will one day make me old.  Whaddya mean, it just about does now?  Crikey!  Oh, hang on, that was the Diamond White reference earlier, wasn't it?  #shouldasaidHooch).

The girls, meanwhile, are in the greasy spoon, not passing the buck in loud voices, whilst passing the buck.  I think you understand, having seen this programme a couple of times before, how that goes.  Luisa says (to camera, away from the main group) that Sophie is the weakest link.  But Sophie defends herself (again, to camera, by herself), saying that this task wasn't anything she does - she doesn't design, manufacture, sell or pitch.  What the fuck she does do is anyone's guess.

And they're back to the boardroom...

Lord Sugar doesn't hold back.  The Tidy-Sidey, the Wishy-Washy, the Poxy-Boxy - that's what it is.  He asks how the idea came about - wasn't it Francesca's idea?  She steps away from the Crappy-Crate asap, saying she suggested a cube with multi-functional sides.

A debate about the colour, the criss-crossed sides and Uzma's ability to pass the buck ensues, with Natalie and Luisa claiming all the credit for the interlocking system, as soon as it transpires that Shugs is seemingly quite keen on that feature of it.  Uzma, once again, says that she said it should have "wow factor" - and it does, I guess, it's just a shame it's "wow(!) factor".

If Rebecca didn't like the idea, and Leah didn't like the idea, why weren't they strong team members and why didn't they shut the idea down straight away?  Leah says they didn't have anything better.  Thud.  Again.

Karren puts her finger on it when she says that Natalie tried to amalgamate everyone's ideas into one cube - seat, storage, laptop, amphibious landing craft, etc.

Sophie's moment in the sun when Shugs asks what came out of the market research - after all, she did do her dissertation on it.  Unfortunately, Sophie comes unstuck when she says the design needed to be "functional", when Lord Sugar says he supposes it's on wheels, so he can wheel it out to the skip to throw away.

Natalie decides to bring Sophie and Uzma back to the boardroom, and Lord Sugar sends the rest of the girls away with a flea in their ear, saying they should be embarrassed to be in the boardroom for a third time.  Well, they should, downright ashamed of themselves, the underachieving little stoats.

Lord Sugar, Karren and Nick have a quick conflab, during which they decide that Natalie hasn't done a good job of project managing a design and manufacturing task, given that she wants to go into business with a design and manufacturing idea.  And Sophie - Nick Hewer had high hopes of her, but nobody knows who she is.  Uzma - she has had problems with the girls on the last few tasks (er, all of them then?) - cue Carry On-esque moment when Shugs says, "You know what women are like" to Karren Brady.  I suspect she gave him a wedgie for that.

The three girls come back to the boardroom.

The design task was one where they're meant to think outside the box.  And all they thought of was "a bloody box".  What the actual fuck was Natalie thinking exactly?  And why has she brought Sophie and Uzma back?  I have my own theory - Natalie wants to be the only grey-purple eyeshadow wearer in the village, and Sophie and Uzma do it better than she does - but that's just me being relentlessly shallow, so we'll move on to actual reasons that don't involve woad.

Apparently, ironically, it's because they shy away from responsibility.  Sez the woman who didn't go on the main pitches to the retailers and is now saying it wasn't her fault the task failed, despite project managing it.  Hokayyyy...

Lord Sugar takes Uzma through her CV (always a pleasing ramble through the turgid witterings of an over-ambitious prick, as we know).  She's basically responsible for all that's right with the world - and the clincher - she keeps on top of current design.  Not if the grey cross-hatched garden bin is anything to go by...

A robust debate is had by Natalie and Uzma, with the choice phrase (I hesitate to reproduce it here - I can't abide bad language), "That's a whole load of crap" uttered - in the boardroom, ladies, honestly!  Have some fucking respect!

Natalie hits the nail on the head (or, rather, assembles the point neatly, using slotting, without the help of tools), when she says that Uzma is afraid of putting forward a design that's fully her own, in case it goes wrong; she doesn't have to take responsibility then.

Uzma says she's in the business of looking good - and Shugs offers her a shovel, to keep digging, cos "that don't look good" - gesturing towards the Dalek storage unit.  He's not wrong.

Sophie doesn't think she's responsible for the failure of the task.  Of course she doesn't.  She doesn't pitch, sell, yada yada - she doesn't do anything, so how could she be responsible for anything happening?  I think that's what she said anyway - I got bored.

Lord Sugar wraps up:

Natalie - you claim that you managed well.  You didn't.

Uzma - you seem never to be responsible for anything.  Never your fault.  As a design person, you should have been better at this.

Sophie - market research is a way of not being responsible for selling, designing, manufacturing - you're hiding.

But...Natalie...this was an unforgivable disaster.

However, his gut feeling...Sophie, you're fired.

And, I, for one - won't remember her in about three seconds' time.

Soph...who?  See?

Shugs finishes off with a weak pun - my favourite.  He says it may not be fair, but the only fair that happens when his £250,000 is up for grabs is the cab "fare" home!  BOOM-BOOM!

13 candidates...and next time, their task is to open a farm shop.  How very a-moo-sing!  Will they make a pig's ear of it?  Will they chicken out of project managing, kid around, shout themselves "horse" and end up looking sheepish in the baadroom as they duck responsibility?  Oh, I do hope sow.

The Apprentice And The Flavoured Beer Task (or How Not To Organise A Piss-up In A Brewery)

Man cannot live on beer alone. Or rhubarb.

After the midnight start of the container of tat challenge, the 15 remaining candidates had a veritable lie-in for their second task - a 6am wake-up call, answered by an over-excited Luisa, summons them to the Old Bank in Fleet Street.  She squeakily and shriekily wakes them all up and we're treated to a few soundbites as they get ready (cue gratuitous abs shots) and travel to what turns out to be a pub, not a bank at all (the boys are apparently "teamwork all the way now" and Jason thinks that they should go for a tried-and-tested formula; him as PM and they'll win again.  Er, doubtful, Jase, very doubtful).

So, they're at the pub.  Beer is Britain's favourite alcoholic drink, says Lord Sugar, with sales totalling £18 billion a year.

With a twist on the boys versus girls teams, bouncy bloke Tim is tasked with heading up the girls in Evolve.  His business idea is to come up with a new drink; this task should be right up his street then.  Candidates with experience in the field ALWAYS perform well, right?  Bwahaha!

And Scouser Kurt, who barely featured in the first episode, is project manager for the rest of the boys in Endeavour.  He's also in the drinks industry.  Can I get me another bwahaha?  Cheers!

And...they're off.

The task?  The first day, they need to create an interestingly flavoured beer.  The second day, they need to sell it...for a profit.  I wonder if they'll bother with that bit though - they don't always.

Kurt, the health drink entrepreneur (spinach and ginseng smoothies maybe?), initially favours chilli and caramel beer.  But Lord of Darkness, Alex, is worried that chillis are a little bit too adventurous (are vampires scared of chillis as well as garlic?).  Neil suggests chocolate orange, though he missed a trick there - surely Drac-a-like Alex would've preferred blood orange?

Jordan forages the hedgerow of his brain and comes up with "nettles" as a beer flavour - will people think it's going to sting their mouth?  Only total idiots, Jordan.

Over to Tim, heading up Evolve.  The girls are captured giving him some of their best suspicious looks - a boy in their midst?  Can he win them over?  He's keen to target the female market with something healthy.  He does know what beer is, right?  But he's ever so enthusiastic - I think he may be caffeine powered.  He's not a lone ranger, though, he's definitely a team player.  His early attempt at trying to get the girls to "go round in a circle" to stop them all talking over one another fails miserably and the poor lad is left looking on helplessly as they discuss the mass market appeal of pomegranate and akai berries.  Karren's quick to pick up on his lack of control of the laydeez; she says that although he started well, it's "all gone to pot".  She frowns and writes in her notebook (presumably "Task Two, for Tim, it's all gone to pot"); her homework for Shugs.

Tim overrules his OWN decision, swayed by the stronger women in the group (which doesn't go unnoticed by Karren and her notebook), and they decide to target men, not women, with their flavoured beer.

Over at Endeavour, they decide to split into a marketing team, doing branding and design, and a manufacturing team, er, manufacturing.  Zee and Jason are put into the manufacturing team, with the rationale from Kurt that Zee doesn't drink, so won't be able to do market research as he doesn't understand the likely audience for their beer, despite having a marketing background.  Surely he won't be able to drink the bloody product, either, so it could end up tasting like donkey wee.  Mind you, probably better than spinach and ginseng smoothies...  And Jason, it transpires, doesn't drink beer either.  Alex is also tasked with manufacture.  No garlic-flavoured beer then.  And Jordan is leader of the sub-team (this is Jordan who wanted nettle beer, folks).

The manufacturing team head out of London to the Midlands, to make the beer that two of them won't be able to taste.  Clever Kurt.

Back with Evolve, Francesca suggests they try selling their beer at the Real Food Festival, but this is scoffed at by Rebecca, who wants them to go to a beer festival.  They decide on the Kent Beer Festival.  Which is, obviously, in Putney.

The manufacturing sub-teams for both Evolve and Endeavour pitch up at Banks's Beer and begin to try the product.  Well, those of them who drink it, that is.  Zee and Jason watch Alex and Jordan make English Wine Sparkling type comments about beer.

But the other half of the boys' team have already decided on the flavour, and are waist deep in branding it.  Let's hope they've communicated it or they'll have a devil of a job explaining why chocolate orange packaging contains nettle and the blood of a willing virgin flavoured beer.

Myles suggests an orange peel effect for the bottle.  Cellulite?  Tasty...

Ah, there it is - Endeavour ring their manufacturing sub-team to tell them what flavour beer to make.  There's nothing like giving your colleagues a bit of decision-making power - and this is NOTHING LIKE giving your colleagues a bit of decision-making power.  It's a good job Jason's wearing hygiene goggles in the brewery as his eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head.  Not in the beer, Jase.

Kurt ploughs on regardless - the amber bitter base with the chocolate orange.  But his sub-team preferred the stout base - and half of them have tasted it, so surely their opinion should count for something.  Ah, no, no, it doesn't.  Myles dismisses Alex's protests - the amber bitter base it is.  Nick Hewer's incredulous (he does do that well, doesn't he, boys and girls?).

The ladies (and Tim) are trying all sorts of flavours - from blueberry to bacon.  Rhubarb is pronounced bitter, so they add caramel.  And that's their flavour - even Karren looks like she might enjoy it.

Uzma's the leader of the marketing and branding sub-team (ably assisted by Luisa, Leah and Sophie.  Well...assisted).  Luisa and Uzma have an argument over 10% and 5% blacks on the label, across the designer chap, which Uzma finds disrespectful.  As do we all, Uzma, as do we all.  Their label, Rhubarb & Riches, is dismissed as "like a fashion boutique" by Luisa, who snaps at Uzma to BE the leader.  She really is a charmer.

For Endeavour, Neil is, once again, bigging up his own contribution.  "Behind every project manager, there's a Neil Clough", he brags.  I bloody hope not.  He's come up with the flavour, the name - he's basically running the show.  Apparently.  Again.

The boys start trying to do maths to scale up their formula into barrel-sized portions.  What could possibly go wrong?  Apprentice candidates are always bang on with their mathematics, right?  But maybe, just maybe, they'll get it right this time #evertheoptimist      Zee's confident that their sub-team has delivered their end of the bargain and it looks like he might just be right - their flavouring goes without a hitch.

Francesca is also trying to haul basic maths out of her brain, which is confused with metres and grams, as Evolve attempt to work out their millilitre ratio.  But they balls it up totally, twice, making two casks of beer that's not safe to drink - a triumph!  The other half of Evolve are horrified that they haven't produced any frigging beer yet (frigging beer - I don't think that's a winning flavour, do you?).  They've wasted 150 pints of beer trying to get the mix right, but finally they get some kegs with drinkable liquid in them out of the door.

The next day, they all try their beer and see their branding.  Happy days.

Tim sends half of Evolve off to sell to the trade (eventually, after a kerfuffle about who'll do what that sees him changing his mind a lot and doubtless making Karren use her frowning pen to write in her special notebook and do wiggly caterpillar eyebrows), but forgets to appoint a sub-team leader.  So he rings and tells Rebecca it's her.

The boys of Endeavour are at the St Albans Beer Festival, with prices set at £4 for a pint or a bottle and £2.60 for a half.  Nick Hewer reckons it's a big risk to sell so far above the competition, who are on sale for £3.20 a pint.  And it's St Albans, guys - how much will people pay for a pint outside central London (where prices start from £476 for a half, traditionally)?

Tim's half of Evolve are in Putney for what appears to be the deserted Kent Beer Festival, which is actually held in a pub.  Perhaps everyone went to Kent for it by mistake?  The trade half are trying to sell to a pub that does specialist ales.  Their beer is pronounced quite dry, but...the landlord likes it.  They'll go for four casks!  Rebecca suggests £80, but they want to pay £75 a keg.  Uzma instantly tries to leap in, but Rebecca cuts her down with a waggy finger and gets the sale for £78 a cask.  Watch out, though - there's resentment brewing (HA! See what I did there?).

The boys then try to pitch their beer, which they've called A Bitter This (A Bit Of...oh, never mind).  But...the total planks - they've only brought an empty bottle with them.  Alex, somewhat bizarrely, suggests they sniff the bottle, but the buyers aren't keen to sell a product they haven't actually tasted, which is pretty reasonable, I'm sure you'll agree, as their customers will be expecting to drink it with their mouths, not snort it with their noses (that's a different sort of high, kids).  When phoned, Kurt says he wasn't asked by his sub-team to send them with any product, which is why he didn't, apparently.  But he attempts to rectify this colossal error by sending six bottles over to his trade sub-team.

Back at Putney, things have livened up for Evolve, and Rhubarb & Riches is selling very well indeed to the relatively small number of people there.

Endeavour are still in St Albans, trying to sell expensive beer to punters who are unwilling to part with their hard-earned, even for the pleasure of a cellulite-feel limited edition bottle.  The weirdos.  Kurt wants to go to the Southbank, but shouldn't they stay put, drop their prices a bit and try to sell, rather than haul their wares to the other side of London, where people may still be reticent about the chocolate orange beer?

At last, the boys on the trade sub-team have product for their potential buyers to taste.  But their argument in the car about whether Jason should do any of the selling (Zee and Alex keen he doesn't speak, with Alex respectfully calling him a stupid shit) hasn't worked - and Jason goes totally off-piste with a way under budget offer of £75 and £80 for two casks.  The others round on him, in front of the buyers - fisticuffs?  Well, no, not in front of the customers - they agree on £75 for one barrel.  But, outside, Alex and Zee lay into Jason (who, away from them, calls them the most intolerable and moronic people he's met in a long time), saying he made them look stupid.  To be fair, Alex, with those eyebrows, you manage that yourself.

Evolve decide to move to another venue, and have a catch-up with the other half of the team en route, who aren't impressed that the Kentish Putney team have only sold a cask and a half compared to their four.

Zee, Alex and Jason are in another pub, trying to sell beer.  This time, they have product that the buyer can try with his mouth, but they don't have pump clips, which will brand the brew for the customers' eyes.  They're basically missing senses out (sight, taste, common).  Zee's just about to shake on a £70 for one keg and no pump clip deal, when Jason leaps in with a three kegs and pump clips offer, which almost earns him a black eye.  Will he never learn that his role is logistics, not sales, on this task?

Kurt decides to move from St Albans to the Southbank.  It'll take two hours to get there and they'll need to sell two or three pints a minute once they're there.  Simples.

Meanwhile, Evolve have moved from St Albans to Richmond.  To a wine bar.  Clue's in the name, dear hearts - surprisingly, they're all drinking wine.  Nobody bought their beer.  Shocker.

Endeavour are flogging their beer on the Southbank now.  They've dropped the price to £2.50 a pint - which if they'd done it in St Albans, maybe they wouldn't have needed the two-hour journey.  Then they drop to £2 a pint and finally a quid a pint for the last five minutes of the task.

Evolve's Leah sells their final two casks for £90.  Each.  Bingo.  But, as usual, there's no way of telling who's done the best till the boardroom.  Because that's how telly works.

And...here it is!  Suited and booted, the 15 candidates range their perfectly coiffed and heavily made up selves (and that's just the boys) in the waiting area outside the boardroom, before they're summoned in.

And here's Shugs, or "oh, man" as I prefer to think of him now (thanks, Jaz).

But, what's this?  Alex is slouching!  Lord Sugar asks him to sit up straight.  Perhaps he's slept funny (you know, upside-down from the rafters, or crooked in a satin-lined casket, something like that) - anyway, he sits up, sharpish.

Lord Weak Pun mocks the name of Endeavour's beer - A Bitter This - asking whether if you drink enough of it, it becomes funny.  Pots, kettles?  Neil takes all the credit for thinking up everything to do with the brand, the beer, the theme tune, etc.

Was the team split properly?  Kurt's criticised for sending people who didn't like or weren't allowed to drink beer for religious reasons to make the product.

A brief argument ensues over whose fault it was that they rocked up at the first trade appointment with just a bottle to sniff - Alex saying it was either Kurt or Myles to blame and Kurt calling him a liar.  Careful, he'll get his fangs out.

Jason then turns into Mary Whitehouse (neat trick if you can do it) and says that Alex disgraced Lord Sugar by swearing at him the whole day, and using deception to sell a good quality product.  Shugs questions whether he's from the Office of Fair Trading - clearly unimpressed with Jason's holier-than-thou approach to the nefarious business of flogging stuff.

Over to Evolve.  And Karren says that Francesca nearly melted down over doing her sums and Shugs isn't impressed that they wasted 90 litres of beer trying not to poison people (though the option of keeping and flogging the poisonous beer is a step too far, even for Lord Sugar).  The girls thought Tim was a good project manager, overall.  Will they keep saying that if the finance doesn't add up and they find themselves in the greasy spoon again?  Let's find out.  It's...numbers time!

Team Evolve
Spent: £648.67
Sales to the trade: £492.
Sales to the public: £555.69.

Profit: £399.02.

Team Endeavour
Spent: 601.40

Sales to the trade: £284.98
Sales to the public: £1,147.98.

Profit: £831.56.


So, Endeavour have it again.  Shugs sends them over to Belgium as their prize.  Presumably because they make beer there.  Although maybe he's just a Poirot fan.  Ah, no, it's beer.  Cheers, boys.  Again!

Evolve are back to the greasy spoon, arguing over who suggested the Kent Beer Festival.  Rebecca and Tim both pushed that location, but the rest of the girls aren't keen for the buck to stop with Tim (presumably because Tim's deciding who else goes into the boardroom with him - so transparent, ladies).

Back in the boardroom, nobody's keen to speak up initially, but Shugs says he doesn't want to give £250,000 to a dummy, someone who looks at him with a dumbfounded expression, so they start to pull each other apart with posturing and pointing and allegations of being undermined (OK, fair enough, that's mainly Rebecca).  But whose idea was the location?  Everyone blame...Rebecca, who fights back, accusing them all of being in cahoots (paranoia always goes down a treat with Lord Sugar, good tactic).

Shugs puts the tin lid on the omnishambles that is Evolve's endeavour (see what I did there?), saying that they couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery.  Ba-doom-tss.

They're all a bloody waste of space at the moment, he continues, failing on elementary things such as mathematics and location for sales.

Francesca and Rebecca are chosen byTim to face the pointy finger of firedom in the boardroom.

Can Rebecca redeem herself with being the one who sold most to the trade?  Will Francesca's GCSE Maths qualification save her?  Can Tim show that location location location wasn't their downfall?

Shugs wonders whether Rebecca's tough enough to hack the process.  She assures him that she is, by saying she's tough enough to hack this process.  Well, that's that sorted then.  I'm convinced.

Has Tim made any decisions?  Or is he hiding behind being a team player who was trying to appease the ladies?  He thinks Rebecca should be fired.  But has he reckoned without her superb selling abilities?  And Rebecca thinks Tim should be fired.  Shugs wants to know what Francesca did right.  Apparently she priced the pints.  But is being able to use a pricing gun enough to save her?  And is Rebecca a sensitive troublemaker who Lord Amstrad won't be able to work with?

Well, Tim's a young guy, with a drinks industry business idea.  But he's made too many mistakes on this task for Shugs and he'll go no further in this process - Tim's nice, but dim and he's fired.

Will the girls shape up?  Will Rebecca have an actual fight with Uzma next week?  Will Francesca work out the difference between metres and litres as they tackle the next task, which is to make a piece of flat-pack furniture?  Let's hope so, or they may end up with a water bed by mistake...

The Apprentice Returns (or "Container" Yourselves, It's The All New Muppet Parade)

Let's all wave like Lucky. Or...not.

The new series begins with a selection of quotes from an array of what must surely be the most irksome and arrogant hopefuls The Apprentice has seen yet.  But maybe I'm being selective in my memory, or perhaps we just haven't got to know the kind, sweet-natured bunch this series.  Er, ok.  Here you go, anyway - you decide:

Zee: I'm a great of my generation. I'm an innovator and leader in business. I take inspiration from Napoleon.  I am here to conquer.

Jaz: I'm half machine.  I can process things at a speed that is out of this world.

Jason: Some people come to this process with a game plan.  I just feel my effortless superiority will take me all the way.

Alex: I'm an old head on young shoulders.  I believe that I'm the new breed of businessman that this process requires.

Myles: I have run successful businesses.  I can generate profit.  I'm business perfection personified.

Luisa: I have energy like a Duracell bunny, sex appeal like Jessica Rabbit and a brain like Einstein.

Francesca: I'm prepared to fight to the death to become Lord Sugar's business partner.

Neil: I will do anything to win. Cheating, manipulating, I will do it.

But, unfortunately, after all that swagger and posing, Lord Sugar says actions speak louder than words...so can they do it?  Can they do what other Apprentice candidates generally fail to do - come up with good ideas to make money without making the other thing that Apprentice candidates usually do - twats of themselves?

With this shower, it looks like the "open a container with a random assortment of tat inside, choose randomly and flog it for as much as you can" challenge might be just that - challenging.

It's midnight.  It's the boardroom.  Lord Sugar gives them a peppy pep talk - you're the collateral, you are the asset.  But he doesn't like their CV "bullshit".  He wants to hear a bit about their business ideas (a new twist on the format this year - we'll hear more about what they plan to do with Lord Sugar's cash should they be fortunate enough to be victorious).

They all look on, each convinced that they have the most amazing business idea.

Neil's is a unique online estate agency business.  Really?  How unique can it be when there are other estate agencies online?  Surely, by its very definition, it's not unique already.  Tsk.

Lord Sugar helpfully points out that Myles says on his CV that he thinks estate agents are tossers.  Neil hastily notes that he isn't an estate agent.  He doesn't let on whether he's a tosser or not though.  Time will tell.

Jaz's idea is enthusiastically described (by her) as an online learning platform to eradicate low levels of literacy.

Leah's...a doctor.  But we don't hear about her business idea.

Jason's never had a fulltime job - he's a student, studying Greek modern history.  But will he get the golden fleece?  Haha, Lord Sugar, very good (someone writes these for you, right?  Ooh, job opportunity!).

The task: the container of tat, grab it all, flog it off quick for big cash sums.

Jaz wants to be team leader for the girls.  Her hand went up so fast, she almost gave herself wrist whiplash.

Jason is team leader for the boys (volunteering himself at a slightly more sedate pace).

***********

In the back of the car, the boys are trying to find out about their team leader.  Jason's intelligence is like a machete, apparently.  But does he have a job?  No, he does "a bit of this, a bit of that".

Jaz isn't bossy, but she will tell people what to do.  Hokay...

Alex looks like Freddie Mercury, he says.  Or Dracula, the others think (and they're right, he's the spit of the virgin-bothering garlic dodger).  And he's from Cardiff.

TEAM NAME KLAXON!

The girls come up with Evolve, relatively quickly.

The boys are Endeavour, also relatively quickly.

DEFLATED BLOGGER KLAXON...

Hey ho, onward and upward.  It's CONTAINER TIME!

The teams choose:

Water, toilet rolls, cat litter, bubble wrap, leather jackets, mugs with Union Jacks on and china cats.  AKA tat.

Jaz asks what the girls expect from her: delegation, clear direction, to listen to her team.

Let's see, shall we?

And Sophie already feels patronised.  Good start, Jaz, good start.

Jason's having a problem herding the cats on his team.  Luckily, they've got cat litter to sell, so...

But he has appointed a sub-team leader, Neil, which Neil feels is clear proof that he's really in charge.  The boys get on their way, and start making calls offering very interesting products.  Let's hope they've got something more than cat litter then...

Back with the girls and Rebecca apparently always comes out on top - she's won loads of sales awards and always sells the most.  Pride comes before a fall?

But look, she's made £15, selling two cases of water!  WOW!  #underwhelmed

Alex, the vampire, flogs all their water (presumably not holy) for 12p a bottle to a coach company.  Neato.

Jason's trying to sell the lucky cats now - to a casino.  Apparently they retail for £12 (oh, come now), so they wanted to sell them for £6.  PAH!  The casino owner is having none of it and suggests three quid each (still pretty fucking steep for the plastic tat-cats).  Myles offers batteries with them, for £3.50 (bizarrely, since they have no batteries to sell) and they shake on £3.25, but the others doubt his motives - did he just want a sale at any cost to cover his back in the boardroom?

So now they've got to get batteries.  From somewhere.

Back to Evolve and the girls are looking for somewhere to sell lucky cats.  They're Chinese lucky cats...but they're not in China, so...  OOH!  Chinatown, thinks Jaz!  Unfortunately, it's closed, because it's still, like, well early.

Back with the water-selling girls - Luisa wants to sell the water, so makes a snide remark to Rebecca about selling more than two cases this time, then has an argument with Dr Leah before she tries her hand at selling, about whether she's likely to be able to memorise some figures before she tries the pitch.  Less Jessica Rabbit, more bunny-boiling loon.

The rest of the girls are back in Oxford Street, trying to sell lucky cats.  Ironically, they're having no luck.  Which sort of begs the question about just how lucky the little feline fuckers are, doesn't it?

They're also trying to sell Union Jack mugs for a penny more than they're on sale for in the shop already.  Basic mathematics, ladies, c'mon!  But, wait, they've got "just ten" leather jackets left!  Ooh!  The shopkeeper buys them all, unable to resist such an offer.  Or...does he?  Nope.  He's got to speak to his boss.  Talk to the decision maker, girls, fgs!

Nick "Countdown" Hewer is NOT impressed.  Jaz is "a nice woman", but this is business.  Oh, dear...

The rest of Team Evolve ring to say they've sold the water.  Jaz and the three other girls in the back of the car do "the lucky cat wave" to celebrate.  Excuse me whilst I add that to the list of things I didn't think I'd see on The Apprentice.  It's almost up there with the red shorts from the last series (#brainbleach).

The boys have flogged the cats (RSPCA?) for £160.  AKA fuck all.  And wasted time finding batteries.  And what's time?  MONEY, of course!  Worst of all, Jason misses the opportunity for a weak pun and calls it the "cat catastrophe".  Fool.  Lord Sugar will never hire you for weak pun writing duty with that sort of lack of attention to wordplay detail.

Alex is now trying to sell the bog roll, clarifying that it's "clean".  Well, that should help matters.  Even Stuart Baggs himself couldn't sell used lav paper, could he?  Actually, he probably could.  To a whole field of ponies.

Jason suggests a strategy for approaching clothes shops.  "Do we want to carry the ukulele and the mug and seem like purveyors of...tat?" - well, Jase, if the crap fits... (SEE, JASON, THAT'S HOW YOU DO A WEAK PUN!  Come on, Shugs, gissa job #Yosser).

They smash a mug to celebrate (whoops).  And then go off to try to flog the leather coats (with real polyester lining, folks).

Evolve are trying to sell the cat litter.  The Mutts Nuts aren't interested, though.  Perhaps because "mutt" means "dog".  And it's "cat" litter.  However, I'm now wondering what "dog" litter would - no, no, stoppit #brainbleach

Neil "despises cats", but, when trying to flog the cat litter at Battersea Dogs & Cats Home, he pronounces the kittens "beautiful".  Disingenuous much?  Remember he said he'd do anything to win - "cheating, manipulating" - and, it seems, lying about how much he likes pussy.  Interesting.

Over to Zee to try to clinch the sale for the kitty litter.  Well, sort of over.  Neil can't help himself, banging on, leaping in with suggestions and wincing whenever Zee opens his mouth.  Karren wasn't impressed.

Eventually, they sell the lot for £213, £5.20 a bag.

Neil and Zee have a brief row in the back of the car, over Neil hanging up the phone and where to sell high-vis jackets.  That'll be one to look back on fondly, boys.

AND Evolve are back in Chinatown (which is open now), still trying to sell lucky cats.

Sophie tries to sell them for £5 each.  Then Natalie leaps in with a £3 offer.  But for only ten of their fifty units, so they're back on the trog round Chinatown, trying to hawk the other forty.

Endeavour are selling the high-vis jackets.  The unaptly named Tim "Still"well leaps about all over the place after selling all 100 of them for £1.20 each.  Bless his eager and excited cotton socks.  And that's it, they've sold their half of the tat.  It's over to project manager Jason's half of the team, who are still trying to sell ukuleles and six of their leather jackets.  Neil's half of Endeavour are deeply unimpressed with him as project manager.

The girls are in a tat shop, where they manage to sell ten rolls of bubble wrap and a load of bog roll - for the princely sum of over £400.  #weakpunalert  That's shitloads of bog roll, right?  

Uzma says it doesn't faze her not to be in the limelight all the time, but really needs to work on her poker face, as she looks more miffed than Mrs Miffed after she's been particularly miffed by Miffy doing something super-miffing.

Endeavour are "running like hell to sell those ukuleles".  Jordan spins a massive whopper with "we've saved these specially for you" to the lucky shopkeeper they chance upon with their twangy stringed instruments.  George Formby's spinning in his grave.  And the shopkeeper seems more interested in plucking than purchasing, so to speak.  But, with 30 seconds to go, they clinch the deal - five ukes for £30.

Sophie squeaks about nobody listening to her.  But nobody listens.

Jaz's half of Team Evolve have sold items to the value of £270, which horrifies the other half.  Luisa says that if Jaz even suggests that any of the horrified half of the team are to go back into the boardroom, she'll be "on her like a fly on shit".  What a lovely image.  And now I'm thinking about fly litter.  Oh, STOP IT with the various animal excrement imagery.

Anyway, I predict a boardroom slaughter, because neither team leader has been anything like impressive.

Mwahahahaha!  C'mon, it's what we all tune in for, eh?

Jaz asks for feedback on her team leader abilities.  THE DIMWIT.  It's met with resounding silence (though that may just be because nobody said anything interesting enough for the final edit.  That's how telly works, kids).

Neil thinks Jason has committed "business suicide" by appointing him second in command.  But will Lord Sugar agree?  Traditionally unimpressed by arrogance without substance, Neil's talking over Zee's pitch may be his undoing.  But we have to see how the teams did first.  And they're back in the boardroom for the breakdown.  The financial one - though there may be sobbing, I guess, once the backstabbing starts.

BOARDROOM KLAXON

Did Jaz regret putting herself forward as project manager so quickly?  No...  Might she by the end of this boardroom?  Almost certainly!  It starts off friendly enough, with nice words, but lots of eye-rolling.  And...there it is.  They feel like Leah was the project manager, not Jaz, and Leah made the decisions.  Cor, that didn't take long!

So, did they sell anything?  Half the team very nearly sold out.  Jaz's team, as she details, had remaining all the mugs, seven leather jackets and 40 lucky cats.  Jaz then DEMONSTRATES the lucky cat wave to Lord Sugar.  A moment, whilst we pause to cringe our faces inside out at that.

A brief criticism from Shugs of their naivety over talking to the monkey, not the organ grinder, when it came to selling the leather jackets in Oxford Street.  Surely that's Business 101 - don't try to sell to someone who can't do the buying?

Over to Endeavour - a team name that is more "to hope to succeed" than to actually do it - though they did sell everything, so maybe they'll have squeaked it.

Jason thinks they did well as a team.  But Lord Amstrad has picked up on Neil's leadership challenge (even if Jason didn't).  Why did he do that?  Not enough leadership.  Alex "stakes" his loyalty (oh, do keep up, weak pun fans) and puts the boot in too, saying clear, concise instructions were left out from the beginning.  Karren chips in to point out that it was difficult when they were all talking over each other.

The boys' bunfight continues, with Neil saying he should've been team leader from the beginning. Jordan says it's embarrassing that Neil believes in himself more than anyone else does - then makes the rather bizarre statement that "it's not a competition, we're a team". Has he ever seen this before?

Karren says, through gritted teeth, "I've had a whole day of this" and she's "very tired of it".

Alex tries to stand up for Neil, but fucks up totally when he says he's "worked with Liam all day".  Another Business 101 lesson (or, perhaps, "Being Human 101" - something that may be harder for Mr Undead than at first glance) - "learn the names of the people you've spent all day with, especially when you say them in front of Lord Sugar".

Myles calls Jason's sales approach "more Vicar of Dibley than market trader" - something that's probably fair, but I can't forget the batteries for cats fiasco.  And nor, it seems, can Lord Sugar - his next question is whose idea was the batteries for the lucky cats.  Loadsa time wasted powering up the little pussies.

Tim bobs about some more, and says he felt the way to prove himself on this task was through sales.  Hey, guys, we've got a genius here!  He regales us with the story of how he sold the high-vis jackets.  And Lord Sugar tries a weak pun of his own - "they must have seen you coming".  I'm so very proud #fondpunster

And it's time for the numbers - from Nick "busman's holiday" Hewer.

Team Evolve:

Jaz's subteam sold £270.

Leah's subteam sold £839.30.

Total: £1139.30.

Team Endeavour:

Jason's subteam sold £324.50.

Neil's subteam sold £843.40.

Total: £1167.90.

Team Endeavour, as the winners, head to their luxury house in Holborn, with Fortnum & Mason's chef to cook for them that evening.  Bizarrely, Tim decides to then explain himself and say he's taken on board what Lord Sugar has said, yada, yada, yada...  He's cut off, by Lord Sugar pointing out that he's won.  Thud.

So, it's Jaz's Team Evolve who are back in the boardroom.

But first, a glimpse of their new home - which is rather nice, as you might expect.  And it's all smiles and "cheers" over posh grub.

Team Evolve are in the traditional losers' greasy spoon - Luisa points out that they sold more than triple the amount of stuff in their sub-team.  Uzma says they had all the figures, the appointments, the strategy.  The next day, after a good night's sleep, they're back to the boardroom.

Jaz really doesn't think she did anything wrong - she led the team.  Er, the losing team, remember?

And so to the boardroom...

Lord Sugar suggests Jaz began like the start of a netball match, all positivity and motivational blathering.  But that's jack shit, Sugar wants facts.  Leah made the strategy, she didn't implement Jaz's strategy.  Uzma didn't sell anything, but Leah had allocated her a non-selling role; operations and logistics.  Good call, except they didn't get as far as Battersea Dogs & Cats Home, who would've cheerfully munched through all their cat litter supply (as they did for the boys).  Logistics your way out of that, Uzma.

Luisa tries a bit of a backstab with Rebecca, but wisely sidesteps her way out of going in for the kill when it's pointed out to her that Rebecca was actually the biggest seller in their group.

Sophie sold nothing in Jaz's sub-team, but knew that lucky cats weren't going to be easy to sell in Chinatown.  However, nobody seemed to have heard her say it.  #weakpunalert  Maybe the cat had her tongue?

So, who's Jaz going to bring back?

Sophie's her first choice, which Sophie doesn't think is fair (well, of course she wouldn't, but who's gonna listen to her - not Jaz (again)).  And then there's some sarcastic arm-waving, which ALWAYS goes down well with Lord Sugar (have these people watched the series before?  Jeez!), before she decides on Uzma.

The girls in the firing line step outside, whilst Lord Sugar, Nick and Karren have a chat.  They decide it's tough to be a project manager, especially with a team like that.  Sophie was "a big disappointment" to Nick.  And the jury's out re Uzma.

And...they're back in the room.

Will Jaz stand her ground?  Will Sophie be heard?  Can Uzma operate and logistic her way out of a paper bag?

Sophie asks a rather dangerous question of Uzma - did she not think, as it was a selling task, she should've tried to sell?  Dangerous indeed - Sophie didn't sell anything herself, nor was she on the half of the team that sold over £800-worth of tat.

Jaz describes Sophie as a "passenger" on the task.  But Jaz didn't sell anything herself.  And it was Jaz's idea - and one she kept on about and followed through with, even though it was ridiculous - to "take coals to Newcastle" and try selling the lucky cats in Chinatown.  And then comes what could well be the clincher.  She sighs and says, "Oh, man..." - no, not "man" - he's "Lord Sugar", as he quickly points out.  Thud.  Again.

Shugs gives Jaz credit for jumping in and being project manager.  But...it wasn't clever to do it so quickly.

Lord Sugar is confused about why Jaz has brought Uzma into the boardroom - logistics is an important part of sales.

Sophie didn't sell anything - did she pull her weight on the task?  That has to be given deep consideration.

But...there was "terrible mayhem" and "fatal mistakes" were made.  Her biggest mistake was jumping in too quickly to be project manager.  The pointy finger of Lord Sugar fires...Jaz.

Jaz is "gutted" to be fired before she's had the chance to show how amazing she is.  What a loss to the world.

It's all hugs and smiles when the other two are back in the house.  How long they last remains to be seen.

So, it's the final 15 (good grief).  And they're making money from flavoured beer next time (and we only have to wait till 8th May - twice in two days!  With a double helping this week of the Muppet Parade, zey're really spoiling uz!).

What does "banker" rhyme with? Or why internet banking makes me homicidal

Random number allocation fail

The other day, I switched bank accounts. Does a story that begins this way ever have a happy ending? Or is it a tortuous and painful journey through paperwork blizzards, endless not-so-random PIN allocations and general frustration, accompanied by a lurking feeling that everyone else manages this just fine and you must be all toddler in the head if you can't do it without veins standing out on your neck?

Because that's it, isn't it? Something that's explained to you in the bank as being THE most simple thing that ever happened - "tell your employer these 14 different digits so they can pay you into the right place, then the companies who already take copious sums of money from you will automatically ask for that money from the same 14 digits. We'll make it all seamless for you, just go and have an ice cream or something" - actually turns out to be one of the most aggravating things you'll ever do (and I speak as somebody who has been to Legoland).

So what does happen?

First, you fall for the "we'll make it really simple, all your Direct Debits will be transferred automatically" patter.

Then you sign your life away, they hand you a sheaf of leaflets (or "sheaflet", if you like. You don't like? What's wrong with you?), and you go on your merry way, waiting for everything to happen as-if-by-magic.

What actually happens next is you get 48 million texts from debt management shysters, because the bank has seemingly sold your mobile number on (special circle of hell for them, along with the accident claims ambulance chasers), the disingenuous cocksplats.

And then you get an avalanche of paperwork through the door, including:

• the credit card you didn't really want, but said yes to because they wouldn't shut up otherwise
• the PIN for said credit card (not PIN number, because that makes it Personal Identification Number number, and only a dickhead says that)
• telephone banking PIN and instructions (so you can ring an automated robot voice to check your balance, which will be dick-all, because they've fucked up your account)
• debit card
• card reader for your debit card (because Just A Password isn't secure enough in these days of fraudulent tomfoolery and other such japes)

But no PIN for your debit card, so you can't actually log in to your internet banking.  And they don't transfer the Direct Debits within ten days either.  But you can't log in to check what they have or haven't done.  Because you don't have a PIN.  Still, at least fraudsters can't get into your account.  BUT NOR CAN YOU.

Oh, and the PIN they sent for the credit card?  Photograph above.  Yes, genuinely.  And of course I've changed it, but FGS, in these days of needing a card reader, a PIN, to run widdershins round the country from Land's End to John O'Groats then play and win three games of hopscotch with Satan to log in to your own account, surely they can at least randomise a PIN they're sending through the post?

I do feel somewhat guilty, Martin Lewis, of course I do - I should be better at this shit.  But no bloody wonder people don't bother transferring their bank accounts more often. It's not inertia, it's fear of the jail terms for murder.

Well, Butter My Bum, it's The Great Comic Relief Bake Off!

Put four comedians in the Great British Bake Off tent, overseen by the usual dough-some twosome, Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood, and what do we get?

We get the Great British Bake Off Comic Relief Special!  Or The Great Comic Relief Bake Off.  We've only got Mel Giedroyc though, Sue Perkins was too scared she might be out-comedied.

"Branded" butter on the Beeb...

Obviously, Jo Brand is featured.  And her preferred method of making sure the butter for her shortbread is room temperature is to sit on it.  Yes, really.  She's making rhubarb and custard shortbread.

Stephen K Amos has missed out his nuts.  Shame.

Ingrid Oliver (one half of comedy duo Watson & Oliver) is using Lady Grey tea in her shortbread, but Hollywood would seemingly have preferred she used poppy seeds.  Shame on HER.


Lorna Watson is doing everything slowly, including making very sticky shortbread dough.  Dough?  Batter?  There's a reason I'm not on this programme.  I'd end up making pancakes by mistake.  FLIP!

Jo Brand's shortbread has suffered from "shrink-back".  It sounds like an Asda initiative, but apparently it means it's just shrunk a bit.  Or something.  Brand wishes it would happen to her.

Stephen K Amos (what does the K stand for?) has baked something with non-existent lavender in it.  And something citrussy that is described as "terrible" by Hollywood.  Plaudits abound!

Oliver is using a Mary Berry recipe, the crawly-crawly bumlick.  But she's worked the dough a bit too much.  Horrors!  The lavender overpowers the tea.  Mel Giedroyc has eaten them all by the time anyone has a chance to go back for seconds.

Watson has baked squillions of biscuits.  To be precise, she's over-baked squillions and put enormous walnuts on them.  But they were quite nice biscuits.  So that's good.

Brand was just delighted Hollywood swallowed, instead of spitting.  This is PRE watershed, right?  Hmm, maybe it's just my brain that isn't.  Yes, that'll be it.

The Technical Challenge recipe is a surprise, so they can't fake it.  They just have to bake it.  Ha!

Aaaaaand...it's a custard slice.  Paul Hollywood's recipe.  Mary Berry calls Hollywood on how tricky the recipe is - he knows it's tough.  But he doesn't care, because that's how the Hollywood rolls.

The pastry proves interesting, as does the custard vanilla-ing from Brand - she pulls it all out of the pod with her thumbnail and then scrapes it into the custard.  Let's hope she didn't scrape the butter out of her bum with the same nail earlier.  She puts what looks like quite nice pastry in the oven.

Watson puts another sticky mess in the oven.  And then it catches fire.  Amazingly, her pastry has risen beautifully, but unfortunately, it tastes of meaty barbecue.  Just what you want in a custard slice.  Hey ho, maybe Berry/Hollywood won't notice.

Oliver splats chocolate on the top of hers, only marginally better than Watson.  Brand is actually surprisingly competent at this and makes a well decent job of her feathered chocolate.  Unfortunately, she then ballses up cutting them and makes them look shit.  

The squashed, sticky offerings are laid on the sacrificial gingham altar.  Hollywood pisses himself laughing when he sees them - always a good start.  Still, it's Comic Relief.  And fucking hell, these custard slices are jokes.  They're just missing the red noses.

But noooo, we have a soggy bottom!  Stephen K Amos maybe sat on Brand's butter too...

Oliver's is "not bad".

Brand can't count (not the right number of slices) - and she has another soggy bottom (still sitting on the butter?  I am so not over that image - can you tell? #brainbleach).

And Watson's isn't just soggy, it's raw.  It makes Paul Hollywood have to think nice thoughts to avoid coughing up a furball.

Watson's in fourth place.

Brand's in third place.

K Amos is second.

And Oliver wins and is "genuinely gobsmacked".  Nobody's ever said that when they've won something on reality television.  She'll be on about her journey next.

Watson, bless her, still thinks she can be Star Baker.  Oh, dear.  She seems a nice girl, but baking ain't her forte.

Being a Comic Relief programme, there's now a short film about the brilliant stuff that Comic Relief does in Africa.  And there's a bakery they support - how awesome is that?!  Women baking, their children being looked after and educated at the same time - it's called the Virtuous Women's Bakery!  To send a lovely chunk of cash to this fine cause, simply text BAKE to 70005.  Do it.  Do it now.

Have you done it?  GO ON!

Right, on with the show.  WHO is going to be Star Baker?  The third and final test is the Showstopper Challenge.  They have to bake a novelty chocolate portrait cake, featuring a picture of someone they all know and recognise.

Personally, I'd do Mr Uppity.  He's just the right colour for a chocolate cake.  What about you?

Brand's gone for the Archbishop Desmond Tutu, which is probably a better, more inspiring choice.  One of the reasons is she doesn't think she has ever seen him on a cake before.  She should get out more - he's a common enough feature on tea tables round my way.

Oliver's doing Paul Hollywood.  Not ACTUALLY.  Well, she may be, but not on camera.  There's comedy and there's Just Too Far.  But she's putting Paul Hollywood's face on the cake.  It's a SECRET though; she doesn't tell him.

Stephen K Amos is putting a glitter picture of himself on the top.  The giant narcissist.

Watson - well, it's going to be sticky, isn't it?  She's using white chocolate and fresh raspberries.  And Sue Perkins will feature - ahhh.  Hollywood points out her cake has split, so she uses a beater instead of her hand to mix the next version.

Into the oven now, with Brand imploring her cake to "be good".  She's gone for a cup of tea in the sunshine, relaxed as fuck.

Stephen K Amos is cooking his chocolate to death.  It's gone as grainy as a filthy pap long-distance telephoto picture of Kate Middleton topless.

Oliver's having a mare.  She forgot to put raising agent in the orange sponge.  She has to start again, with one hour to go.  Whoops.  It takes 45 minutes to bake...  It'll be tight!

Sue looking ironic, eyebrow-wise

Watson is doing an ironic eyebrow in icing.  I love that sentence.  I think I will always ice ironic eyebrows on EVERY cake I ever make from now on.  It may end up being my epitaph.  "Here lies the tetchiest pedant we ever knew. She iced a mean ironic eyebrow."  What better way to be remembered?

Ten minutes left.  Watson seems to be pulling it out of the bag, with her raspberry buttercream looking only slightly like the product of liposuction.

Stephen K Amos has de-grained his chocolate somehow.  Brand holds the stencil of his face over the cake and Stephen K Amos shakes glittery brown dust through it.  The resulting picture looks...well, it looks shit.

Amazingly, they've all finished in time.

Brand's isn't overdone.  And her freestyle Tutu has gone down well.  Berry says she's made a very good cake.

Amos's is bitter.  And dense.  I wouldn't want a picture of myself on a bitter, dense cake, would you?

Paul Hollywood then cuts into his own face as they try Oliver's cake.  He declares it "lovely".  And the orange sponge that went so horribly wrong first time round was light and nice.  Hurrah!

Watson's Sue cake with the ironic eyebrow is soon sliced up.  The buttercream (lipo residue) has curdled.  And Sue tastes scrummy, but the cake is a bit wonky.  Paul Hollywood declares it " tastes perfect".

Brand's biscuits were the best.  And her cake was the best.  Will she win?

Amos's cake was burnt and bitter.  He thinks it went well, having made Berry pull a face with so much "expression" which is a devastatingly self-confident delusion.

Oliver - lovely cake, a good all-rounder.

Watson's cake was "perfect" - but was it enough to win her the competition, given her sticky messes earlier?

This person's journey (always with the sodding journey!) started with humble shortbread dreams, via custard slices, ending up in the foothills of - oh, I lost the will to live, sorry, Giedroyc!

Anyway, Ingrid Oliver won and receives the Apron of Glory.  And some flowers.  She was the all-round best.  I think it was just because she put La Hollywood on the top of her cake, don't you?  And didn't set fire to her pastry, make a dense, bitter cake or sit on her butter.  There you go - top tips for winning Bake Off.

So, let's have a bake sale for Comic Relief.  GO ON!  And ice ironic eyebrows on every last damn cake.  GO ON!