It’s Week 6 and the candidates don High Vis jackets and steel-toecapped power heels to meet Lord Sugar at Smugglers Way (which is the sort of name posh London types give to their tips. They probably call their sewage works “Coprophile’s Corner”). Edna’s quite excited (“There should be lots of men there”). The teams have to transform rubbish into money, collecting it and disposing responsibility of anything that has no value and flogging the rest. Jason Moore from “Any Junk” gives a pep talk, warning the teams about falling for dodgy deals in this trade (“If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is”), but you can see his words of wisdom flying through the candidates ears.

Helen’s moved across to Logic which also includes Natasha, Tom, Jim and Melody, leaving Venture with Zoe, Susan, Edna, Leon and Glenn.

The beauty of the dwindling number of candidates is that Nick and Karen’s shadowing of the teams becomes ever more conspicuous, with Mr Hewer’s (think “has someone eaten a decomposing rodent and farted it out”) facial expressions especially suited to this task.

As the Venture boys big up their amazing blokey past experiences working as builders mates without actually offering to be project manager, and Susan timidly offers to lead despite having no knowledge of the industry, Zoe decides to ignore everybody and cut through the timewasting voting process by electing herself as benign dictator. The boys are duly impressed (what is it about men and their secret Thatcher fantasies) and back her up, whilst Susan is sad and silent. Awww.

Helen speaks to a wide eyed Logic about the wonders of actually winning a task and is duly elected Project Manager, quickly focusing on finding metals (Tom’s suggestion of course).

Both teams get the use of a one tonne tipper truck, so it’s no surprise when they split up into pitching for contracts and collection teams that the menfolk for both Venture and Logic get to play about in the trucks. Glenn and Leon rather unproductively target cafés for Venture. Meanwhile Logic’s Tom and Jim drive round the suburbs, with Jim yelling a terrifying Paisley-esque diatribe through a public address system. Perhaps a strident NornOirish accent isn’t the most settling to hear booming into your quiet suburban home (“HOUSE NUMBER 73 WITH THE SKIP OUTSIDE. HELLLOOOO!! HELLOOOOOO!”).

The women are faring no better, with Helen vainly trying to quell Melody and Natasha’s bitchscrapping in the car on the way to a lead provided by Lord Sugar, a city basement bar in need of clearing out. In amongst the rubble, Natasha spots stainless steel sink fittings and suggests that they could be worth about £500, so Helen takes the bold move of not even looking for an extra service charge and offering to take the lot away for nothing. Melody’s horrified (“Our quote is ZERO?!”) and blames Natasha (“You said you were the expert”), who immediately starts backtracking. Helen points out that Melody didn’t jump in at the moment of the deal to say “excuse me. Stop. We’re not making any money here” and stoically suggests that “the train has left the station”. Natasha moans to camera that “Melody got a big plate of blame and said, ‘Here you are? Fancy a bite?'”. Meanwhile Karen looks ever more depressed at the limited professionalism of young ambitious businesswomen (at least the ones competing desperately for a cut of Lord Sugar’s wallet action).

Susan is puppyishly keen to get things straight and tries to clarify the rules of the task with Zoe as Venture visit the bar. Zoe has bizarrely got it in for Susan (whom she chooses to call “Suzie”, which feels strangely belittling) and goes into maximum patronise overdrive, raising her voice to megadrone as far as she can get away with as she lectures the younger woman (“Can you get it into your head. I know about as much as you. If it’s a simple question you wouldn’t be asking me it.”). It’s getting to something when Evil Edna’s the peacemaker (“Ladies! Ladies!”). Zoe plucks the figure of £150 out of the air to charge the bar owner to take away his potentially valuable junk. Er. In the car Susan pipes up “I would have done it for free” and Zoe gives her a disbelieving yet also pitying look (“I don’t know what you’re trying to do? Are you trying to like sabotage this task or what?”) until Susan’s perma-confused little mouth forms an unhappy O of shame. It’s no great surprise that the bar manager plumps for Helen’s offer, but Zoe still doesn’t seem to twig what’s going on.

Jim’s still dragging Tom around door to door to terrify more householders into searching for the contact details for Rogue Traders (“Have you got any bicycles? Any barbecues? Any girders? Any kryptonite?” etc. etc.) and end up driving around with half a bike (well “five kilos of ferrous metal”) rattling around their immense truck (Tom “that’s about 80p!”). Glenn and Leon get slightly more joy visiting trade.

The ladies from Logic now visit Lord Sugar’s second lead, a Fulham office shifting surplus furniture. Melody’s still worried about making a loss disposing of the rubbish left over from the first contract, and Helen only goes and offers to move all the desks and shit for no charge whatsoever, prompting Melody to whine “It’s not good business”. “Your comments are noted” clips Helen curtly like Herr Flick in a pencil line skirt and immutable French plait.

Venture shamble into the office next, with Edna suggesting £100. “I don’t think that’s competitive” complains Susan. “We need to go higher”. It takes a few seconds for Zoe and Edna to work out that Susan means they should offer more money to the office boss and buy their office furniture to sell on, but when they click, they all point and laugh at her. “It’s a service we’re offering” Zoe explains as slowly and rudely as possible, “I don’t know what’s in your head”. “Maybe I’ve got the wrong end of the stick” Susan backs down sadly, whilst Nick raises his eyebrows in the background (“If they weren’t listening to the task instructions they could end up on the scrap heap”). Having beaten Susan into submission, Zoe resumes her negotiations: “We can go down to £80 but we’re cutting our own throats”, and the bar man politely waves them away. “I feel like the biggest idiot in the world” Susan sighs in the car, until the phone call comes from Office Boss, explaining that Logic are doing the job for nothing, so he would have needed to be offered money to go with Venture. Susan’s innocent little face lights up with vindication. “So he DID want money? So I’m NOT an idiot?” The others nod glumly, heading back to the house so Zoe can have a little blub in the corner and they can all sit around in the dark looking like the cat’s died when Glenn and Leon return, cheerful from their blokey exertions. “We’ll sort it out” promises Glenn, cheering everyone up with a mixed potato metaphor (“The chips are down so we just have to smash it tomorrow”).

The teams assemble at Battersea rubbish Sorting Depot at 7.50am (lazy feckers) to sort and weigh their scrap metal and organise the real crap to go to the tip. Edna, Glenn and Susan make appointments and try to focus on finding metal whilst Zoe (“I didn’t want to put Suzie on manual tasks – she’s very weak”) and Leon follow in the truck to pick up collections. Edna fixes an appointment with a plumber in Fulham to clear out his yard. He offers them £100 cash and two small copper cylinders, but Susan argues him up to three and asks how much for the rest of the copper (£40 each for two more cylinders: HONEST! Plumber: “You’ll get more than that”) and buys that. Wow! Of course she doesn’t get to enjoy her minor victory, as Zoe’s immediately undermining her (“Without being insulting, can Edna go to help the boys clear the yard, as I don’t think you’d be strong enough”). Boo!

The bar basement clearance involves Tom delightfully trying to out Alpha Jim by lugging as much as he can up the two flights of stairs to chuck in the truck, before “innocently” asking if there’s a lift (No). The girls manage to sell the wooden flooring that survives Jim and Tom’s not so dainty touches to a stereotypical sexist Cockney reclamation yard guvnor, who only gives them £120 but gets his boys to do the loading for our fragrant little females (“I bet you’ll go ohhm now. Dahhn the ‘airdressers” he leers).

Melody meanwhile has gone off on her own limb, finding a job that actually pays for service, moving 150 bags of rubbish for a lairy eyed builder who resembles an East End Fred West. She’s after £250, but Jim starts working his Jedi mind tricks and has almost got the bloke up to £270 (“Let’s meet in the middle” (eh?)), before Melody gets all “time is money” and shouts for Jim to stop, breaking his powerful spell at £260. However, after disposing of the first load; Jim, Tom and Melody return to find the crafty builder has dumped about fifty extra binbags full of the murdered bodies of teenage runaways in amongst the agreed load. Jim’s incensed and starts squaring off aggressively to the unrepentant contractor (“I could have got the whole lot taken away for £240 so tough”), and it takes Melody to defuse the situation (how ironic eh Jim?) and pay the man. “I’ve had a result” chortles the builder. “You’ve had a result. Yeah” growls Jim bitterly.

Tom realises that dumping the useless shit from the basement bar costs £110 per truckload, and phones Helen (nearly deafening her with an uncharacteristic booming “HELLO” it must be all that Jim Testosterone he’s been breathing in) asking if they can just leave the rest of the rubbish in the bar, but to her credit she doesn’t want to let her one off client down.

Edna helps to tidy the first plumber’s yard (“I’ve been the brains and the brawn in this task”), before the cheeky cow gets righteously short shrift by trying to renege on the deal because boo hoo they underestimated the quantities (“It cost us more to clear the yard, it must have been more than half a tonne more than we thought. Could you pay us some more?”; “Absolutely no chance”). Meanwhile Susan and Glenn visit another plumber, with Glenn now inspired to offer £100 to shift another great big copper pipe (“This will make us £280, I think it’s alright”). Nick’s almost impressed by how well Venture are working together now (“Shame they didn’t start earlier”).

Helen flogs off random metal to a metal expert who pokes and prods each item suspiciously (“That’s not stainless steel.”, Helen “Oh it’s magnetic, then it’s more expensive”, “No it’s iron. I’ll have to deduct money for that”), before offering just under £400, which Melody manages to ambitiously “round up” to £410 in exchange for helping him load it. Zoe then makes £915 for the copper that Susan and Glenn have gathered.

Somehow Jim and Tom manage to flog off the office furniture for £300 and everyone’s dumped their rubbish by the 7.30pm deadline. There’s little rejoicing though, as Tom’s fretting about having lost 5 tasks in a row, and it’s dawned on Susan that Zoe’s been a complete beeyatch to her for two days (“I never ever want to work with her again” – fingers crossed Susan).

Back in the boardroom, Lord Sugar clocks some of the smacked arse faced before him and doesn’t even bother asking what the teams thought of their Project Managers. Helen admits that not charging was a high risk strategy, but takes responsibility for it. Karen grasses up Melody’s lack of faith in this strategy (Melody “Labour costs – we should have charged and gone for the profit too”). Melody tries to justify her naysaying by bigging up her “lucrative visit” to the East End Fred West stuffed binbag emporium (Tom sniggers at this point), but once the facts are out, Lord Sugar dismisses her deal (“Don’t sound too good for me”).

Zoe gets stick for steamrollering the “picking the Project Manager” process, but she conveniently forgets Susan’s offer and excuses herself stating that “Everyone else was faffing”. Nick helps her out by picking up the boys on not offering to lead after bragging about their experience. Zoe also takes responsibility for screwing up by totally misunderstanding the task on the first day (“er sorry”). Edna, however is keen to play up her achievements in the task, even the one’s that weren’t hers.

Anyway, here’s the scores on the doors (and floors and copper pipes):

Venture made £1045 and spent £339 on charges – leaving £706

Logic made £1090 and spent £378 – giving them a figure of £712 – winning them the task (still predictably given the edit) by £6 and making Tom do a little squee of relieved joy. So Logic get sent for a posh hot bath (A “natural thermal spa pamper” – I don’t like “pamper treats” it sounds like something that adult babies pay for).

In Sad Café, Leon has worked out why they lost (“We just didn’t have £6 worth of copper”), but Zoe knows her “neck’s on the line” (“No guts, no glory”). Glenn knows he’s safe as “Again, I’ll say it again. On every task I give 110%”. Oh please, don’t just fire him now, shoot the innumerate twat.

Anyhow back in the boardroom, and whilst Lord Sugar appreciates Zoe taking responsibility, he warns that sometimes she shouldn’t put herself forward if she can’t back it up. Cross-examined on her “strategy” Zoe, having read her bumper book of business for beginners, claims she aimed for metal from the start and focused on family firms, “as you can get to the top more quickly with them”). I’m not the only person doing a double take as both Edna and Susan claim it’s the first they’ve heard of it, but Zoe reckons she told Glenn. Well, only telling the boys makes it OK then. There’s a huge scrabble for credit on making the copper deals, with both Glenn and Edna claiming they negotiated it, whilst Susan sits there gasping like a very pretty and startled goldfish. Eventually Glenn states that Edna often jumped onto the back of other peoples ideas, which Zoe immediately goes with (Edna: “That’s unfair”), but sadly, siding with the boy means that Zoe has no comeback to Glenn’s assertion that in fact it was Susan who closed both the important deals. Of course the snotty dullard still brings back Susan and Edna. “Can I ask a question” Susan trills earnestly, but Lord Sugar makes her wait until they return to the boardroom (by which time, hearteningly, Nick has argued Susan’s corner and pointed out that Zoe just didn’t get this task). Finally, Susan gets to ask Zoe “Why did you bring me in here” and Zoe blusters nastily “If you can run an business without certain people, they don’t need to be there”, before accusing Susan of being “unprofessional”. Nice attitude love.

At last Susan comes out scrapping (“If you’d have gone with me, we’d have got those contracts”), but makes the mistake of accidentally suggesting that she also secured the appointments (which Edna’s claimed) allowing Zoe to mardily bitch and petch over everything she says. Sugar even comes to Susan’s aid, forcing Zoe to admit that they would have got the deal with the office boss had they just offered him £50, rather than trying to charge him £80. Zoe realises the tide’s turning against her when Susan moans “Zoe made me feel like an absolute idiot and talked down to me” and everyone else starts nodding sagely, so she tries to put a vast spin on events (“I actually said, have I got this wrong”. Oh you little liar!).

Edna lays in, declaring that Zoe had fallen apart on Day2 and didn’t make any decisions. “I hadn’t fallen apart. I was really upset with myself” whinges Zoe, before Susan puts her delicate boot in (“You were not good for team morale. You sat in the corner crying”). Zoe’s on the ropes, trying desperately to report that she was “motivational” and got everyone going again. Fortunately for her, Lord Sugar’s got a bee in his bonnet about Edna’s illustrious CV, which waffles at length about her “proven ability to translate highly original ideas into workable solutions”. Rather than vomit, he asks how those skills manifested themselves on the task. “I was complimented on my ideas” states Edna smugly. “Who by?” wheedles Sugar. Edna’s clearly not used to this line of questioning; “The whole team” she gambles. Cue murmurings of “Well I didn’t” from Zoe and Susan. Edna’s unswayed though and blithely bullshits her way through a round of business buzzword bingo, as though she’s never watched this show before. “I train Chief Executives how to do their jobs” she boasts proudly, pulling down the coffin lid. Lord Sugar sighs “Some of these companies have money to burn”. “Do you need training?” quips Nick. Edna’s still undeterred and starts hammering the nails in. “I’ve got an MBA in.. “(something that sounds like “Entrepreneurial and Diversification” – sorry my brain started making bird noises over this) “that makes me very versatile”. Yes dear. Getting a specialist education makes you a fucking Jack of all Trades.

Susan’s next under the microscope, but Nick kindly suggests that she often speaks “great sense” but shouldn’t “cave in to weightier voices”. “Zoe made me feel small by shouting at me. I know I’m only young” bleats Susan adorably. I bet she’s tough as nails really, but has worked out how to make the little girl act work to her advantage. It certainly works with Lord Sugar, who champions the “young”, whilst warning half heartedly that he’s “also seen 17 year olds talk a load of crap” (You don’t say!), and Susan’s let off the hook with a mild rebuke (I’ve seen a few things you’re quite good at but a lot of things I’m not happy with at all”).

He sums up Zoe’s performance next (“You lost it.. and there’s a limit to how long I can put up with someone just telling me ‘I got it wrong'”), but it’s no surprise that Edna is the one to go. Well apart from to Edna, who’s still banging on about how qualified she is in the taxi of fail. “I have three degrees. One BSc and two Masters” she wails. So have I (not that I like to go on about it – and if I had tried to validate my existence with an MBA I’d seriously be looking at a one way euthanastic fantastic holiday to Switzerland) and look where it’s got me. I don’t even get a makeover to meet Dara for fecks sake, it’s not the be all and end all. All in all, despite Zoe’s dreadful behaviour, I’m glad the glory hunting corporate jargon whore went – there’s too many of these wankers parasitically attaching themselves to any situation where other people’s graft can enhance their CVs and making anyone with an ounce of sanity froth bile in the process, so well played Lord Sugar. Zoe’s judgement can wait.

There’s another frosty car journey, as Susan pulls Zoe up for talking down to her, which Zoe deals with by er talking down to her again (“I only raised my voice cos you continued asking on and on and on like a schoolkid”). If I was Susan I’d have started asking “Are we nearly home yet” repeatedly. Got to feel for her, being dissed by the denizens of the boardroom for failing to stand up for her ideas in the face of such a carpet blanking. “You would not have spoken to anyone else that way” suggests Susan, perhaps teetering on the edge of suggesting a racial motive for Zoe’s attitude. I hope Zoe’s racist. She’s so boring and unimaginative that surely she’d be a great advert for embracing multiculturalism. Sadly back at the house everyone seems pleased by the return of Zoe. Either it’s a nest of cunts, or they’ve all sussed that she’s toast the next time she even coughs in the wrong way. Or more likely a little bit of both.

Liking: Tom, Susan, Leon
Probably a Finalist, but meh: Helen
Nothing to me: Glenn,
Disliking: Jim, Natasha, Me-Me-Melody
Her tears sustain me: Zoe

Byebye: Evil Edna, Vincent (who?), Ellie, Felicity, Gavin, Alex, Edward