So, episode six of Britain Must Be Stopped. Let’s sit back and relax, razor blades in hand, and pray that the rapture turns out to be true.
If the previous weeks are anything to go by, we’ll be treated to an hour of deluded, mentally unstable individuals with zero talent… and some contestants. Let’s get to it.
Up first: Magicians! And without Simon “I FEAR MAGIC” Cowell – are they in with a chance? Some twats in top hats fail to impress, so it’s up to David and Karen, whose act is called, er, “David and Karen”, to save the Magic Circle. They promise something new and exciting.
They dance around a bit, and Dave gets in a box with his hand sticking out, which is covered in a cloth. And then suddenly, they’ve swapped places. It’s a really good trick. McIntyre loved it, Holden hates magic with “bits of cotton” and hated liking it. Hoff loved it too. Success – they’re through…to…er…the quarter finals? 2nd round? Who cares?
We’re in Cardiff now! And we meet Melanie, 59 ½ , who has two Chihuahuas and her act is called Mexican Mayhem – which I wrongly assumed to be a biting satirical monologue about Mexico’s troubled drug pandemic. Mel is wearing a sombero so big it’s visible from the moon – so we are safe to assume this is the first of this week’s “Aww, look how unsettlingly deranged they are” act.
She’s been performing the act for eight or nine months – so she’s a veteran of the Mexican dog dancing circuit. Even the dogs can’t be arsed, as they’re dragged on stage. A baffling exchange of Holden saying “Are they Mexican dogs?” with Melanie replying “Chihuahua is Mexico’s 12th biggest city” ensues before the act. So, what does Melanie do? The dogs sit on the hat, then slalom round some inflatable cacti (yes, plural), jump some tiny fences (well one does, the other dog plain doesn’t give a fuck and walks around them), one goes through the tunnel, the tearaway can’t be arsed with that either – going halfway in, before turning around (the audience and Antdec are pissing themselves at this point) and coming out the other end. IT’S THE FUNNIEST THING EVER TO HAVE HAPPENED…if you were born deaf, blind and dumb before regaining these senses… and to be fair, you’d want them back. It’s tediously shite. It’s not a talent and is as far away from Mayhem as you can imagine.
She’s only been put through too. Hasslehoff said no, but sodding Holden and McIntyre – relentless in their pursuit of being crowned King and Queen of Tossers – said yes. Christ – a country weeps.
And now…. MORE DOGS! For God’s sake. Just rename it Britain’s Got Dogs. Bodie skateboards. I’ve seen him. For real, in Brighton. It’s awesome… on a street. Not at 8pm on primetime TV. More sodding dogs. A Bullshit (half Bulldog half Shitzhu) refusing to hit a tambourine, a kid with a dog who whines during the Coronation Street theme tune… it’s tedious horrible stuff. I now hate dogs, as well as people.
Surely Jenny and John can save us? They sing the Baywatch theme tune and a fucking dog comes out. Is this part of the act? No. It’s an unplanned dog. The skateboarding one. Ruining someone’s act. Ace. We don’t know if they got through but they did get humiliated.
Manchester now. And Elbow starts playing when we see one guy, so no doubt he’s got a sob-story or something that means he has to win. Paul lives with his preacher parents and is crap at football. He used to imagine musical notes as he couldn’t afford a piano. Inspirational stuff. But how is his act? Well, he can play the piano, very well. Great! Talent! NO DOGS! He’s clearly through.
London now and, oh no, Louis Walsh is filling in for Hasslehoff. There are dozens of streetdancing acts – most are crap. Still better than dogs. Some clever (!) editing shows Holden saying “I don’t want to see any more street dancing”, so I WONDER WHAT THE NEXT ACT WILL BE!? OHMYGODSTREETDANCING! These lads are from South East London, so careful Holden… it’s all I’m saying. They dance about, jump around and it’s alright, yeah. Anything not four-legged or furry is a positive for me. It’s good. It’s not amazing. Holden agrees, saying that they don’t compare with Diversity from 2009. Yer man argues but I’m with Holden on this one. Walsh loved it but McIntyre was with Holden. Still, they get through – just – despite having less support from the judges than Mexican Mayhem.
More dance acts. I want a street dancing dog act. Actually. No. No, I don’t. No one wants that. An Irish dance troupe with UV-gloves go through rightly, as does a couple slapping a table to music. It’s better than I’ve made it sound. Honestly. Another colourful dance act goes through, I’m starting to get dance overload. We need something new… something I won’t hate…
“7 year old Robbie..” Oh God.
Rob has walked off the set of Bugsy Malone and is going to sing. Go on, judges, say no to this kid you horrible bastards. First though, “Wobbie” tried to set up his Aunt with Louis. Unless she can keychange on a stool and has a penis, I don’t think she’s his type. He sings ‘My Way’… it’s a bit creepy. Really creepy. I don’t like it. I’d have buzzed by now.
McIntyre thinks it had “everything”. Not one dog though. He’s through. I’m looking forward to him crying live on stage in a later round! Hurrah!
We’re on the home straight now and up next is “the future of Britain”: George and Jamie, diamond earrings and “street look”. So, what do they do? They rap! This rap is about their granddads, and it’s alright. It’s not awful. It’s decent. More sodding talent than a lunatic woman in a Mexican flag with some rubbish rat-dogs pratting about on stage. They’re through – good!
We ‘re done. At last! That was a tough hour. I don’t necessarily mind the concept of Britain’s Got Talent. But, in that hour, how many acts are actually talented? Four? Five? Do we really need to see the crap?
I guess that’s entertainment.