Last week on The Apprentice: Pitching, pissing off and professionality

Tonight, we’re caught in a post-Melissa world. A world in which people stop caring about her instantly.

The phone rings, and like Pavlov’s Dog, Stella sprints down to answer. “National Fashion Academy, pack an overnight bag”, she screams on the way back up. Stuart Baggs the Brand says that selling clothes is like selling “magic beans”. He seems pleased with what he’s saying, even though we don’t understand it.

They’ll be selling two fashion lines each in Manchester’s Trafford Centre, opening a fashion boutique in an empty store. Probably an old Woolworths, or whatever sold Amstrad products.

Liz is sent to project manage the team she’s not on, swapping with Stuart Baggs the Brand. Even Alan can’t remember which way round the team names are.

Paloma project manages, I dunno, Apollo. Jamie’s wife buys his clothes. Nick Hewer sneers. He watches small African children hand-craft his pants to his exact specification.

Jamie patronises the North, saying that London is two years ahead. Yeah? Keep trekking up the M6, and eventually you’ll end up in 1974. They have electricity up there, you bloody goon.

Paloma meets a hipster seller with silly glasses, in a silly shop called Cassette Player. She makes up the names of her clothes lines as she goes along: Summer, er, lightswitch.

Liz heads to a high end fashion supplier. Nick Hewer pulls faces at a bum. Stella and Jamie look round a vintage boutique, and decide that it’s the one for them. Has Alex mentioned that he used to work in the Trafford Centre? Don’t worry if you forget it, he’ll bring it up every 30 seconds, like a pathetic puppy, starved of attention.

Lisa I’Anson manages to agree with Liz over a company choice, but does so in such an aggressive and incomprehensible way that it sounds like they’re arguing. Peaches Geldof is namedropped to Paloma, who smiles and nods in a “cool dad without a clue” way.

Both teams want the Liquorice line. I’m guessing at the spelling, because knowing the way things are now, it’ll probably be spelled “Lickarish” or “Guinea Pig”. Liz’s team win it, because they’re more enthusiastic. Or rather, better at faking enthusiasm over some bits of fabric.

They have to place a promotional stand somewhere in the centre. Alex and Paloma argue over whether they’ll put the promotional material outside their competitor’s store. Alex thinks it’s a good idea, because he used to work at the Trafford Centre. Paloma puts the blame / praise on Alex very clearly, so that when it gets brought up as a rubbish idea in the board room, she’ll come away smelling less of shit.

“Recycled clothing? Isn’t that what tramps do?” Asks Stuart Baggs the Brand, with all the sensitivity of a millionaire – Duncan Bannatyne, to pick a name completely at random – wanking into a £50 note in the middle of a dole queue.

The shops are set up quickly and cheaply overnight, giving them an air of a scam from The Real Hustle. The task is actually to skim as many credit cards as possible in 24 hours.

Paloma does what she does best, and argues with Alex instead of completing the task. He wants to entice customers in by letting them see the outfits – which are hidden against the walls. She wants him to stop worrying about the outfits and drive customers in. HE IS, YOU DAFT MOO.

Liz’s team are hours late because she’s trying on outfits. That’s probably not true, but editing is cruel. “It really shows your figure well”, leers Chris, as a young lady tries on a dress. Both stores seem to do badly, with their expensive London wares being too much for those simple Northern folk.

Alex has cocked up – even though he used to work at the Trafford Centre. His promo area is 10 minutes’ walk away. He stands outside the shop door and shouts “hello girls”, like the least erotic Wonderbra advert ever. He wants to say that Fearne Cotton and Alesha Dixon are in the store. The only problem is, they aren’t. He redeems himself by talking to the centre managers (from the Centre he used to work at), and has a presenter from the in-store TV station come in and film an advert.

Creepy Chris bullies a sad looking boy with an empty Arsenal wallet into going into his overdraft to buy clothes. Paloma shouts about wool at a man who isn’t sure if he should buy a top. WOOL. IT IS MADE OF WOOL. ARE YOU INSANE, MAN? WOOL. Chris talks a lady into buying a dress. Presumably she’s just throwing money at him to get him to stop saying creepy things about her.

Stella and Jamie spot the advert on TV, and simultaneously have the sinking “shit” feeling. They know they’ve lost. Hewer is fuming: They’ve only put flowers on the counter. That’s nothing compared to the Jumbotron.

Liz gets 20% off her clothes – in price, not length HAHAHAHAHA – and shouts outside the store, enticing people in. It sounds like a market stall, and Jamie gets angry about it. The usual end-of-day panic selling kicks in, and the task ends. They get into their horse and carts, and travel back down south to That There London, where they have metal birds that fly in the sky, and running water – hot AND cold!

THE BOARDROOM

Liz is proclaimed good project manager. She begins explaining how she’d wanted to step up as PM, but Alan swoops in to remind everyone that he actually appointed her. She would’ve stepped up anyway. So that’s a happy co-incidence. Hewer hated the shop, and Alan implies that he wanders round peering at hookers.

Paloma is thrilled with Chris’ selling. Alex mentions that he worked at the Trafford Centre. Paloma is quick to point out that the poor location was 1,000,000% his fault. Her team loses, selling £3,223, to the other team – let’s call them Synergy – who secured £3,760. They lost by five hundred quid. We’ll hear about Alex working in the Trafford Centre again, soon.

As a treat, Liz and co. head out to the races. Jamie makes poor odds-related jokes about their chances of winning the competition. They win a bet, and drink champagne. That’s the glamorous side of gambling, not the reality. Fast forward ten years, to where Jamie is pleading with the staff of his local Coral, begging them to return his watch so he can make a bet on a sure thing. A SURE THING.

Alex is getting all of the blame for everything. He tries to mention other things that went wrong, but he’s pissing into the wind. Sandeesh says “passion for fashion”. Lord Al makes a big deal out of the fashion line they missed out on. Sandeesh and Chris were too rapey-looking for the retailer to represent her.

Paloma blames sales effort, but defends Sandeesh when Al implies that she did nothing. Alex gets the brunt of the rage, because of the inappropriately placed promo area. He’s being brought back, obviously, as is Sandeesh, who looks terrified. Alan isn’t impressed that Paloma’s bringing her back – she doesn’t think Sandeesh did badly on this task, but that she’s rubbish overall. Poor Sandeesh.

Paloma thinks it would be unfair to let someone like her go, while Sandeesh does nothing. Sandeesh calls Paloma destructive, which is pretty true. She’s an argumentative pain up the cockhole. And to prove her point, she chants “LAURA” over Alex’s explanation of his role in securing the TV ad. She’s got her claws into Alex, and won’t let go. Will Alex bite back? He tries, but it’s spunk off a porn star’s face. Hewer defends Alex, we think, saying that he’s “over effusive”, rather than irritating.

“Sometimes there’s no smoke without fire, and sometimes there’s not”, says Al, which makes less sense than a goose on top of a handbag. In summary. Alex: Annoying. Sandeesh: Snivelling. Paloma: Bully. The discussion devolves into three people talking over each other, as does every conversation with Paloma.

Alex sounds like a disaster, but he’s been stitched up. He’s being given another chance to prove he’s not bloody useless. Paloma’s outbursts have pissed Alan off, and she’s fired!

Everyone back in the house laughs and whoops at Paloma’s firing. Alex tells them of her horrible words in the boardroom: That he’s useless and just a presenter. The others awkwardly fall quiet.

Earlier this week, we interviewed Simon Smith, from series four of the Apprentice. Clicky clicky to read more

Comments

1. Tim says:

   November 4, 2010 at 1:57 pm

   So Paloma is finally given enough rope to hang herself with. She had some good skills – selling, negotiating, anything that involved talking a lot – but her mouth was always going to get her into trouble eventually. We have seen her make glib promises she can’t deliver on, tell everyone how good she is, deflect responsibility for everything, tell everyone how good she is, and generally put down all her teammates a lot. Did I mention how she’d keep telling everyone how good she is? She would be a nightmare to work with/for – forever standing next to greatness so she can take the credit for it, and forever running away from anything bad and pointing the finger of blame elsewhere.

   Good riddance. Paloma wrote cheques with her mouth that her ability could never cash. Melissa with less silly hair, really.

   http://slouchingtowardsthatcham.com/2010/11/04/synergy-are-top-shop-teflon-paloma-top-flop-after-fashion-disaster/

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