They’re back - all the big-headed buck-passers and conniving back-stabbers who believe, really believe, they’re destined for greatness and to hell with anyone who gets in their way.
Once again, Sir Alan Sugar’s boardroom is the primary school playground, over-run with spoilt brats channelling industrial-strength egotism.
If you could bottle what they’re on, it would knock Red Bull into oblivion (at the very least, the shelves of Lidl).
I swear, if my kid becomes like that when he goes forth armed with his business degree this summer, I’d disown him.
I loathe everything about The Apprentice, but God, it makes good telly.
One thing, though... This time, the prize is £250k instead of a job with Sralan. He reckons he doesn’t actually need any more staff.
I’d disagree. The king of corny cliches is in dire need of a new pun-writer.