Get rid of The Apprentice and I guarantee you’ll get BBC’s box-ticking ­b*****ks

OVER in Cambridge, team Empower’s scavenger hunt has come to a grinding halt as they search frantically for the town’s river, with absolutely nothing to guide them.

Nothing, except the words “TO THE RIVER” and a dirty great arrow, written on to a wall, about a metre from their heads.

So they pause for a few seconds, look around, then scamper off in completely the wrong direction.

The tip of the stupidity iceberg, as it transpired, on last week’s episode of The Apprentice, where they’ve been delivering this sort of comedy gold for 15 series now and, for about 13 of them, have had to put up with people assuring us: “It’s past its sell-by date.”

One year they’ll be right, as well.

ALL-TIME HALL OF FAME

But not this one, which has thrown up another wonderful selection of candidates with a whole variety of ­personality flaws and business skills, ranging from the competent, Flump-voiced Iasha ­Masood, right the way down to Ryan-Mark Parsons, the camp Michael McIntyre clone who Lord Sugar correctly labelled “a weather cock”. Even if we can argue about the “weather” bit.

Two contestants, though, go straight into the all-time Apprentice Hall Of Fame, alongside the greats like Paul Torrisi and Stuart Baggs.

First is Cockney barrow boy Thomas Skinner, who sticks out among the boys like Ray Winstone in a touring production of Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert, and has turned out to be a lot more likeable than I was expecting.

The second, though, most certainly hasn’t. For she is Lottie Lion, the librarian and wine snob who’s given to quoting Shakespeare: “For though she is but little she is a massive pain in the a**e.” Or words to that effect.

All your worst office nightmares rolled into one, this girl. An undermining, ­passive-aggressive crawler who can swivel on a sixpence, depending on which way Lord Sugar’s wind is blowing.

“In business there is no room for ­gambling.” “Hang on. Business is a gamble. You don’t take risks, you get nowhere.” “Yes, risk-taking is important, Lord Sugar.”

Lottie’s also not helped by the fact she’s often right and most certainly wasn’t to blame for the failure of the scavenger hunt task which disintegrated, in ­shameful fashion, right at the start when team Empower’s Pamela Laird asked: “Does anyone know when the Second World War started?” Silence. They didn’t know when it started, ­finished, or even what side was responsible for killing Biggie and Tupac.

A media meltdown followed, yet, amid the general despair, no one bothered to thank The Apprentice for the public ­service of flagging up this ignorance, because that’s not what happens with this show. Instead, it gets accused of stuff.

This year, inevitably, it’s been called racist and claims have been made that the first four candidates were sacked due to their skin colour, rather than the fact they were completely useless or ­produced a “bespoke ­corporate ­lollipop” that looked more like a vibrator.

THESE IMBECILES

It’s only Twitter that’s saying these things, of course, but they need to be quashed as the BBC is actually dumb enough to listen to these imbeciles and forget Sugar’s first winner was Tim Campbell and his show is about the only place on the network where black and minority ethnic people will be treated entirely on their merits.

Get rid of The Apprentice and, I guarantee you, its ­precious and entertaining hours will be filled with the same mollycoddling, box-ticking, ­condescending, right-on ­b*****ks that fills most of the rest of the Beeb’s output.

Treasure this show while you still can (The Apprentice, BBC1, Wednesday, 9pm).

Martin's silence is Golden

ONLY two places there’s ever likely to be a demand for Vinnie Jones to sing Lip Up Fatty, by Bad Manners.

One of them is Piers Morgan’s Hollywood wake.

Thankfully, that’s probably still a good 25 or 30 months away.

So I’ll stick with the other, X Factor: Celebrity, where we were already several horrors into the night when Martin Bashir’s brain developed technical issues, just as he was about to assault the second verse of Easy

Like Sunday Morning.

“I’ve forgotten the words . . .

“A wah wah-waaah wanna be freeeee.

“I do apologise.”

Not necessary, Martin.

Vinnie’s manic can-can took the initial sting out of things a couple of turns later.

And, when it came to the climax, Simon Cowell dodged his decision and the public voted-off Jonny Labey and Victoria Ekanoye instead of a startled Bashir, who gasped: “What has happened?”

You stayed silent. They sang. Go figure.

Lookalikes of the week

• Sent in by Gerry Duncan, via email
• Picture research: Alfie Snelling

Lost in a material world

THE guessing games begin as soon as the opening credits for BBC1’s big new Sunday night drama kick in and reveal it’s set in a parallel universe.

A place where relationships between humans and their animal soul-mates are unusually close.

Swindon?

“Oxford.”

Oooh, close, but no cigar at the start of His Dark Materials, an epic, eight-part adaptation of author Philip Pullman’s trilogy that’ll probably go down well with anyone who’s read the books and loves fantasy adventure.

Unfortunately, I haven’t read the books and hate fantasy adventure.

My loss, I realise. It means I draw an emotional blank with the show’s incredible production values (£50million) and even Ruth Wilson’s fabulous performance as Mrs Coulter.

Initial stumbling block is the fact everyone’s trailed around by their own soul in animal form, Daemons who can all talk but never once stop to take a dump or cock their leg against the scenery.

Teenage heroine Lyra has a shape-shifting weasel thing called Pantalaimon, James “Asriel” McAvoy’s got Stelmaria the snow leopard and John Torode’s got a hairless gastropod called Gregg. But that’s another show, I think.

On this one, there’s also the all-powerful Magisterium, giving everyone the creeps, and the uncharted north’s mysterious city in the sky, which James McAvoy is getting quite excited about.

The detail that finished off His Dark Materials for me, though, was the news that arrived just before the climax of episode one.

“Roger’s been taken by the Gobblers.”

As the late, great Eric Morecambe once said, there really is no answer to that.

Incidentally

Would it be fair to assume the BBC’s bisexual Dracula bats for both sides?

TV gold

BBC2’s darkly funny Guilt, with Mark Bonnar and Jamie Sives.

The nightmarish, bird-eating Iranian viper footage on Seven Worlds One Planet.

Lee Mack pretending to be Anneka Rice’s nude life model on the outstanding Would I Lie To You (BBC1).

C4’s brilliant Celebrity Hunted climaxing with the question: “Is Gavin Henson really stupid enough to go back to his own house?” (Yes he is).

And best ever breakfast TV host, Piers Morgan, marking his eagerly awaited return to Good Morning Britain by identifying singer Ruby Turner as the rhyming slang for curry, “Ruby Murray”.

Food food food, Piers.

• Compiled by Graham Wray

Unexpected morons in the bagging area

Tipping Point, Ben Shephard: “Piglet and Eeyore are companions of which fictional bear?”

Matt: “Donkey.”

The Chase, Bradley Walsh: “Pemberton Place in Atlanta is named after the inventor of what soft drink?”

Glynis: “Orange.”

Bradley Walsh: “Which cabinet designer ­published a book of his own designs in 1754?”

Vivien: “Mr Ikea.”

And Bradley Walsh: “Dingoes are said to have been introduced to Australia by whom?”

Kirsten: “The Kennel Club.”

• All contributions gratefully received

SO what’s it like in the non-stop Mardi Gras of ­EastEnders at the moment?

Callum: “I’ve been thinking of taking an ­embalming course.”

That’s what.

CHILDREN In Need: Got It Covered.

My ears: Got ’em covered.

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