BBC’s The Apprentice looks set to be a TV smash. Contestants compete for a highly paid job with Sir Alan Sugar. T2 sees some global contestants.
“Listen sunshine,” said Sir Alan Sugar, cracking his knuckles at the boardroom table. “You can’t go providing the goods before the customer has provided the money. Do you understand?” George W. Bush scowled, his tiny black eyes scrunched in confusion. “It’s pre-emptive,” he said.
“It’s bullshit,” said Sir Alan. “And you also take far too much holiday. Get out. George? You’re fired.”
Advertisement
Further down the table, Tony Blair leapt to his feet. “Now listen . . .” he began.
“You,” said Sir Alan, “shut it. Let him fight his own battles. It’s a dog-eat-dog world, and you can’t go eating dogs for other dogs. You with me?” Tony Blair opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Not really,” he said.
“Well you’re fired an’ all.”
Kim Jong Il raised a hand. “I understand you, Mr Sugar.”
“It’s Sir Alan, sonny. And that’s sycophancy. Fired.”
Advertisement
The three world leaders moved towards the door, heads hung low. Around the table, the remaining contestants eyed each other unhappily. Anyone who could run a country ought to be able to run a business. But this Sugar person seemed hard to impress.
“Oi!” shouted Sir Alan. “Less dreaming, people. And you could look less smug, Kofi. You’d benefit from being a bit more like those three.”
“I beg your pardon?” said the Secretary-General of the United Nations.
“You’re trying to sell something, incha? So you sell it. You don’t need to canvass the views of all your competitors.”
Kofi Annan gave a benign smile. “It is important,” he said, “to build consensus.”
Advertisement
“Bollocks,” said Sir Alan. “Fired. And you. Ayatollah. What’s all this drivel about nuclear power?”
“My people must have electricity,” shrugged the Iranian.
“You’re one of the largest oil producers in the world. It doesn’t make economic sense. Fired. And Chirac? Schröder?”
“Oui?”
“Ja?”
Advertisement
“EU? Nonsense. You’re both fired. Sharon? Abbas? Listen, you can’t sell the same widget to two people at once. Common sense. You’re both fired.”
The remaining three contestants began to fidget, looking worried. “I dispute the authority of this reality TV show!” shouted Slobodan Milosevic, but his voice cracked towards the end of the sentence. “Dispute my foot kicking your arse. You’re fired.”
“Victory is mine!” intoned Robert Mugabe.
“Are you joking? You took a successful product, smashed it up, drove away the people who knew how to make it and then told anybody who wouldn’t buy it that they were racist. You’re an idiot. And fired.”
There was only one contestant left. He scratched at his beard, hopefully. Sugar frowned. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said. “But you do seem to care about the acquisition of wealth and I’ve a feeling we share a stylist.”
Advertisement
“Go Tottenham!” said Saddam Hussein.
“Good lad,” said Sir Alan Sugar. “Have a job.”