It's the final! I'm a complex mix of chronically over-excited and slightly misty eyed. Which can only end badly, with me bouncing up and down and then falling down the stairs for lack of seeing them coming. Still, I'll try to hold that off till at least ten thirty.
Why ten thirty? Because it's the Apprentice Final! Live! Very live! We'll be here - all of us that haven't been fired - from the start of the show at 9 until after the last drip of Apprenticeness has been wrung from the overjoyed pants of Adrian Chiles at the end of You're Hired! on BBC2 at 10.30. Click on 'read more' to read more, and hit refresh for updates and new comments, and please, if you have any views, news, boos, woos (?) or pressing issues, leave a comment.
But not if you're just going to be a big spoily rotter and announce that you know who won. I think many people do know, there seems to have been a press release this afternoon. And, you know, it may have already been announced Somewhere. But I'm ignoring that, because where's the fun in that?
Please. For the sake of the keeping the magic, let's pretend that Father Christmas exists, leggings under skirts is a great look, and We ALL DON'T ALREADY KNOW WHO WON. Ok?
And you can have all your carefully considered reviews, insightful media commentary and witty deconstruction for breakfast tomorrow morning, I'm afraid tonight it's just me and a freshly brewed quintuple espresso, and not a single clue what's going on.
Last week was very exciting though, eh? One very exciting week, and I miss it. Typical.
So Katie walked out because?... She just wanted to see whether she would win, she never actually wanted to win? Then why did she leave a week before the final? I think I have the answer. I think she had run out of clean underwear. Because when you're going into such a programme, and you're only allowed to take one small bag with you, and you're going to be there for an unspecified amount of time, you have to pack very carefully.
My theory? She forgot to pack enough pants, ran out, luckily, ON the day of a boardroom scene, and chose to leave. To embarrassed to say why, she claimed lack of childcare arrangements. It's obvious, really.
9pm This is not a game show, this is a job interview. From Hell.
It's started, and, promised the continuity announcer, with strong language from the beginning, to boot. Oooh, I can't wait. Perhaps even Mr Patronising Announcer has got bored of saying the same old thing, week after week, so it'll be "Sixteen people ahve come from all over the fucking country, and blah blah BLAH Get ON with it..."
Oh, no, he said the same thing as ever. Shame.
9.03: Last week, on the Apprentice... Everything that we already know happened, happened.
9.05: Kristina and Simon, eh? Kristina. Simon. You couldn't really get much more different. Simon - about as frightening as a teddybear. Kristina - I would hand her my wallet and burst into tears before she even opened her mouth.
The sit around joshing in a bedroom, Kristina with some wine, Simon in some kind of all-in-one jumpsuit pajama set that a toddler might wear. I think it might have a bunny on it. They both think they'll win.
We have VT to prove it.
9.07: The Task - Surallun has bought a big property on the South Bank. He would like Kristina and Simon to decide what they should do with this - a landmark for London, he says.
They strenuously state over and over that this isn't really going to happen. They're not Really going to build anything. As Surallun says in the car "This is NOT a real planning application" (It's a job interview. From hell)
9.09: The teams! Yay! Everyone is back. Well, eight of them. But Tre is back! Yay! I knew I'd see him again! But Katie? Weirdly no.
Boooo.
Now, will they help, will they hinder, and importantly, will I remember any of the early losers names? Who's THAT guy, for example?
9.12: Adam and Naomi, for Kristina's team visit the Science museum for inspiration. Adam sees something he likes - it's a Space rocket.
"Lookit Naomi LOOKIT! YAY!" He says, or something. He suggests that they could even buy one that the Russians don't need anymore, and plonk THAT on the South Bank. Well, Um, it's AN idea, I suppose...
Meanwhile, Tre and Simon go on a date with Margaret to the London Aquarium. Tre seems at peace, happy, even. Being fired obviously suits him. Or maybe he just likes sharks.
In a detached way, obviously, because as we all know he 'didn't come from no fish'.
9.16: The teams seem to be going for high concept buildings. They want to build something like a boat. Like a Hot Air Balloon. Like a Giant Finger, Pointing At The Sky.
I think we may slightly be confusing planning a building with 'making things out of plasticine in your post-firing shame-management classes'.
9.17: RORY! That's that guy's name. Eminently forgettable, obviously. And as much a weasel-sniffing arsebiscuit as I remember. Super.
9.18: Tre thinks that Rory's gone way off track. In the kitchen, Rory announces that he wants to annoy Tre as much as possible without getting punched. Well, it's one strategy...
9.20: My god! They've ACTUALLY got the playdoh out! I was kidding!
9.22: Kristina's team have decided on a concept of a phoenix, rising from the flames. In LEGO. Oh, no, hang on, that's just a model. I don't think the whole thing will be LEGO. Which I personally think is a shame, as a large building on the Thames entirely constructed of lego would be a bold, powerful move. And fun.
9.25: Simon gets the team together, and gives them a serious talking to.
This has absolutely no effect, as Rory continues to deconstruct Tre, piece by piece. Mainly behind his back, of course, as Tre looks a bit hard. And Rory doesn't actually WANT a fight, he's merely been put up to being such a negative moaning minnie by the producers. Either that, or he's suicidal.
9.28: Back at the architects office, Paul and Adam have changed the brief, the design, and the purpose of the building. I think this is a good idea, as it would very soon start to crumble once the school groups had had a couple of weeks of making mini-Death Stars out of the foundations. Oh, hang on, no, not lego after all, was it? Boooooo.
Instead, it's a ginormous, curved thing - more than thirty floors high. And It's VILE.
9.30: And, suddenly, we've moved on to planning for the presentation. The team behind Simon - building 'The Wave' - have decided on one thing. Dancing girls. And who's going to be choreographing that? Um. Rory, apparently.
But Simon, Simon, surely this whole show calls for a little pizzazz, a little jzuzj. It needs some street dance, Simon. It needs YOU.
9.34: I'm thrilled by the idea of these presentations. Mr Patronising Announcer says that "tomorrow, each team will have a room to present their designs and models" and, you know, dancing girls.
9.36: We've just seen the building. Simon's team's building - The Wave.
It looks like a set of ... well, like beckoning fingers. Or, dancing bananas. Or, in the most unfortunate of gym changing rooms, a gaggle of flacid .... Oooh! The dancing girls have arrived.
9.37: The evening of the presentation. Surallun and lots of his property developer mates arrive at Billingsgate market. There is a hushed air of nervous energy, and a murmur of rich voices, talking about monied things.
All this pales into the shadow of the fact that while Jadine's post-firing hair might be fabulous, her returning-to-the-fray prom dress is frankly hideous.
She introduces a video of serveral bendy glass-fronted-willies waving in the wind, on the banks of the great Thames.
Several property magnates visibly have to spit their drinks back into the glass for laughing too hard.
9.44: No! Oh no! Poor Kristina (words I thought I'd never say).
She is announced. The presentation begins. The music starts - Kristina stands behind some curtains, and stands, and stands, and so do the curtains. Eventually, they part. One centrimetre per hours, it seems.
She grimaces. Or is that a smile? Who can say?
Kristina is undoubtably a warm and caring individual, much loved of her family and friends, but I cannot shake the feeling that standing too close when she was in a Really Determined Business-like mood might freeze the blood in your veins and the milk in your boobies. Seriously - most of the time, lovely woman, I'm sure. But once she gets a cob on, oy... She sweats battery acid, I'm sure of it.
And she's angry, now.
Angry, unconfident, and really not able to sell her building at all. Which is, frankly, as I've said before, VILE.
She says it will bring 'regeneration to the South Bank'. Um...
9.46: A happy property magnate says that the two teams have done in five days what it takes trained architects 16 years or more to achieve.
He is clearly trolleyed.
9.48: Back at the house, and the two remaining candidates prepare to leave, 'for the LAST TIME'. We see shots of them both leaving their rooms with suitcases. Kristina seems to have left lots and lots of her possessions on the bed. How careless. Surely someone so careless could never win such a prize.
Oh no, hang on, it's not a prize, because it's not a gameshow. It's a job.
At Amstrad.
In Brentwood. (Yes, Katie, Brentwood, read the brochure next time)
9.50pm: Back in the boardroom (Frances, Surallun's PA, seemed to be in a happy smily mood, which is better than a couple of weeks ago when she was giving off an air of discontent, or maybe an unhappy personal life. Everything seems to have been sorted in that department now, and she seems much happier. She has her hair down, which looks nice. We should probably bid Frances good bye, and say thank you now, because ... Oh! I'm missing everything in the boardroom) Surallun asks all the fired people if they thought the two non-fired people were good team leaders.
They make the same old 'Meh well yeah well no" noises, apart from Rory, who sits there repeating "I'm a cock, I'm a cock, I'm a cock, I'm a cock". Well I'm not sure that's an EXACT transcript - but that's certainly all I hear.
9.56: Surallun sends out the last two, consults Nick and Margaret briefly, then thanks them for their input over the last twelve weeks, and sends them packing.
At this point, of course, the candidates ACTUALLY go and work for Amstrad for six months, to see which is best. This isn't shown, of course, what we see are shown is two people sitting in a waiting room, CGI-aging, rapidly. Well, not really, just sitting there, looking a bit haggard.
9.57: Surallun calls them back.
Kristina, he says, is experienced and worldly and a good leader. Simon is an unfinished article, a bad leader, a grinning little monkey with the business acumen of a tiny child.
9.58: He hires Simon.
SIMON! HE THE WINNER!
10.00: Now, over to BBC2 for the last You're Fired!, but oh no, hang on! It's You're HIRED! (do you see what they did there? It's clever!)
How sad, Kristina came all this way, and never mind not getting a job, she doesn't even get to talk to Adrian sodding Chiles. Oh, no, hang on, here she is.
10.04: She admits she's gutted. Of course she is. A small tear rolls down her cheek and starts to eat through the desk in front of her.
Simon comes on, and makes a 'she was a formidable opponent' speech. She looks touched, but still slightly like she's sucking on an unsweetened wasp.
10.07: Surallun is making an appearance! Or Sir Alan Michael Sugar as I shall now call him, with all this time on my hands. We are honoured indeed. Plus, this means no annoyingly pointless panel members. No Feltz for us this week. No editors of Heat, or Toby Youngs, we've got Sugar, baby. We've got short bearded almost-royalty.
10.10: Simon is coming across as quite meek, and quiet, and little, and young. It's very odd. And yet, when they cut back to the presentation, footage we haven't seen - it's clear that he really really did kick arse. Also in the interviews - footage *I* haven't seen, God knows if you have - he really knew his stuff.
The boss agrees. "Simon here could be my biographer", says Sir Alan Michael Sugar. Ah. It was a vanity-hire.
Interesting though. He might have been the best candidate behind the scenes. But from a branding point of view, sir a would be a complete fool not to insist that the next series edits it so the eventual winner doesn't look like a complete fucking idiot.
(I just nicked that last paragraph from my friend Alex who just messaged me with it. Still, I'm willing to pretend it's mine. Hire me, Surallun! Hire ME! I'm RUTHLESS!)
10.16: Katie is apparently on Radio Five. Right now.
And also on Telly! My god! It's telly MAGIC! I'm going to shake it up and down and see if she falls out and then ask her how she's doing both at once.
10.19: Katie Hopkins was in the audience as they played all the nasty nasty clips of Katie being mean about Kristina, and then asks Kristina what she thinks, and then asks Katie what she thinks of what Kristina thinks of what she thinks.
Katie tries to defend herself half-heartedly, but her fire is gone. Perhaps it has been dampened by the wet feeling of being fired - oh no, sorry, she walked out. And Then she got fired. Everywhere else.
10.20: We are introduced to Kristina's son, who is about 20. My respect for Kristina increases abunchfold.
10.26: Sorry, I was eating. We had Katrina's best moments - you know, trying to sell lollipops to children without asking their parents, selling sex for money (sorry, kisses) all the good stuff.
Then we had Sir Alan Michael Sugar's best moments, which are quite fabulous - unsurprisingly so, since you'd think he might have a team of people to write put-downs for him if he asked (not that he DOES, just that he COULD).
Then some footage of Simon doing an impression of Surallun AND Lohit. Not at the same time. That would be incredible. He's good - but he's not that good.
10.29: Simon's best moments, ending with, of course, a full showing of the trampoline/penis-fiddling mashup.
And that's it. Having said over and over that he'll "work his little cotton socks off for Sir Alan", Sir Alan Micheal Sugar says that he has a present for Simon.
He has brought him a uniform, he says.
Weirdly, it's Just Socks.
Wow. If all you wear at the office in Amstrad is socks and nothing else, what the HELL do they do for Dress Down Friday?
Well, no socks, I suppose. And maybe shave bits, and ...
Actually, let's leave it there.
10.31: "What will we do on Wednesday nights?", worries Adrian Chiles. And the man has a point.
But hell, there are always books, pubs, restaurants. And other 900 television channels...
To everyone who has read and joined in and left such hilarious comments over the last twelve weeks thank you, again, very much indeed. And good night. Right, I'm off to fall down some stairs...
