My Apprentice Application: A Letter to Lord Shuggs
My dearest Lord Shuggs.
I hope this letter finds you decanting drinks in your drawing room, dressed in a vintage smoking jacket. Like Hugh Hefner, only not as pervy. Yes, I have really overthought this, but I like you.
With this years Apprentice approaching the end, I have been thinking: Please can I come on the Apprentice next year?
The only things I lack are a sound business plan and tolerance for other people.
Other than those things, I think I would do really well and impress you so much that you’d fall in love with me. Or something.
Okay, so the lack of a business plan is the biggest hurdle we have to cross, but hear me out: Shuggs, what to do think of my plan of getting £250k to sit on my arse writing books about a fictional, functioning alcoholic Princess with shit children who eats too much pizza and has inappropriate crushes on random men?
Or, we could invest it in producing my own sitcom? I have a great script on the go. How about Amstrad Productions?
I would work really hard and would probably not spend the cash on new trainers and Indian takeaways, and I possibly wouldn’t blow the rest buying nice people drinks at the Forester.
Do you like Whiskey? You look like you drink whiskey. If you let me on the show, I will buy you lot of doubles.
Let me break this down for you and tell you what I would be great at and shit at on the Apprentice:
Once I was in, I would have to deal with the rest of the contestants. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t hate everyone, But I know I wouldn’t get on with most of the other people who get chosen to go on your show. From watching previous series, they aren’t exactly laid back, are they?
See I am, Shuggs. They would be all in each others faces arguing about who sold the most shit that day and I’d be all like “come on, let’s just go and get pissed and hug”. Which is why I would make you a great business partner, I can talk to anyone and after a couple of drinks I am fucking charming.
Oh, appearance: Would I have to wear high heels like the other women? I probably would have to, I doubt my battered converse would cut it. Could you lend me the money for some shoes please? I’m broke.
And make up. I’m not very good with make up. Half way through a task and I would look like the joker.
And business wear. God, I shudder at business wear. It makes me look like Thatcher. But Shuggs, I would try, for you. Would I have to go to Marks and Spencer, or do you think I’d find something in Primark?
I would be ace on camera though; I’ve done all the LAMDA exams and everything.
You know that bit at the beginning of the show where they walk really fast down a London street or over a bridge and it’s cut with them saying outlandish, almost sociopathic statements about themselves and how great they are?
Well, what if I did this, to make it a bit more real:
I’d be rushing down West Ealing Broadway, wearing holey leggings, stuffing a Gregg’s sausage roll in my mouth while wiping pastry flakes off my boobs and trying to avoid stepping on the drunks.
Over dubbed would be me saying, “Is it recording? Yes, okay. I just want some cash really. I think I will do well in the tasks, as I’m not a moron. Are the rest of the contestant’s wankers? I bet they are wankers. I can’t wait to see the big, posh house though. Is there a cleaner and everything? Can I plug my blog now please? No? Oh. Okay then. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
What do you think?
Also, you know the part where all 12 are walking over a bridge in London, doing Blue Steel looks? I’d be at the back, holding onto the railings to stop me falling over in my heels, probably having a sneaky fag and checking Twitter on my phone.
I would struggle with the shared house, Shuggs. Massively. I don’t like other people’s mess, I don’t like sharing food and there mere idea of sharing a shower and loo brings me out in hives. In short, I would be a bloody nightmare to share a house with. Why do you make them share bedrooms in such a big house? Is it just so they can annoy each other with night farts? Could I creep off and sleep on a sofa?
And what about sneaking boys in? Is that allowed?
I would have an edge on the early mornings though. All these years of insomnia coupled with parenthood have made me the kind of person who can be up and out on a seconds notice. Shuggs you would love me; I’d be the first one in the car telling the rest of them to hurry the fuck up while stuffing a donut in my face.
I would ace any task you set us because a) I am not a wanker and b) I am not stupid. Yes, I just called all past Apprentice contestants stupid wankers, because they are. Don’t you agree? Shuggs, while I am here, why did you like Katie Hopkins so much? Could I be the next her? Well, you know, not the next her as I am better looking and also not a cunt, but I wouldn’t mind all the writing and telly work she’s got off the back of it.
No one likes nasty, but no one appreciates a push over either and I fall somewhere in between, so I would be fine. I wouldn’t be a complete cow to the other people, and I would be first to get the drinks in after a day filming.
I’d also volunteer to be team leader as much as possible, because Shuggs, I am nice. I wouldn’t be a bastard to anyone and to be fair, I’d just want to get the task done as quickly and efficiently as possible so we could all get to the pub at a reasonable hour.
I wouldn’t be a backstabbing twat in the boardroom either, although I guess the producers wouldn’t like that very much.
Anyway Lord Sugar, it’s in your hands now.
P.S If you don’t want me as a business partner, just the cash would be nice. Even a tenner would help.