I’m A Celebrity (Reviewer) Get Me Out of Here: Day 15
ITV should be paying me commission. Since I’ve started reviewing ‘I’m a Celeb’, their audience must have swollen. A whole host of viewers have been forced to watch, who wouldn’t normally choose to endure this sort of rubbish. My mother now watches it, and so does my Dad, although he doesn’t really understand what the show is all about, and keeps telling me that the actress playing Esther Rantzen is doing a wonderful job. I asked him what he thought about the bushtucker trials, and he told me in response that he thought Gordon Ramsay should have kept it in his pants. When I asked him who he wanted to win, he delightedly replied ‘Mr Sulu!’ and then asked me if Davina McCall was pregnant AGAIN because she seems to have been replaced by two Geordies.
None of these new viewers really understands whats going on. I don’t understand whats going on either. Why, for example, are there are two tasks in each episode? Is this to keep us entertained? If it is, why don’t they make the challenges less tedious? I’ve sort of been waiting for I’m a Celeb to reel me in and win me over, despite my initial reservations. It hasn’t managed to yet, but ITV would stand a far better chance if they took up some of my suggestions for improvement. So far, I’ve proposed swapping the sheep and ostrich pens for lion pens (think ‘Gladiator’ – with George Takei as Russell Crowe, and Ant and Dec as conjoined twins playing Joaquin Phoenix), I’ve suggested that they stick Nicola in a cave with a chainsaw-buffered serial killer, and also introduced the concept of compulsory sterilisation as a penalty for failure of tasks.
I’m waiting for the call from ITV. Any minute now, they’ll pick up that phone and ask me to be the saviour of ‘I’m a Celeb’. Even the most entrenched institutions sometimes need an injection of young blood to shake things up a bit, and, well, I’m the person for the job. I’ve got big plans for the show: have you seen ‘Battle Royale’? That’s the direction I’m thinking of taking it in. From the moment I’m at the helm, an omnipotent voice will be broadcast via speakerphone to the jungle contestants. Esther, Joe, George, Nicola, Simon, David and Timmy will listen whilst I tell them that the rules have changed. Instead of viewers phoning in to vote them off on a nightly basis, they must now fight to the death until only one is left standing. The one remaining contestant will be permitted to exit the jungle and return to obscurity, provided that we need never hear from them again.
Bags will be handed out to each contestant, containing the following items: popcorn (unpopped), a hacksaw, a copy of ‘HEAT’ (containing a free nail varnish), a meat tenderiser, a crossbow, a homemade ceramic butter dish and an AK 47. Contestants are given a map clearly delineating the location of Ant and Dec’s nearby luxury Hotel. They must work together as a team to assassinate Davina’s replacements, before finally turning their weapons on each other. At the hotel, Esther takes to the rule change with gusto, Joe nobly refuses to fight, but is swiftly knocked unconscious by Brian wielding the rolled up copy of HEAT magazine, his fingernails freshly painted. Nicola, flipping her hair like a pro, throws the meat tenderiser at Brian’s head, taking him out. With her other hand, she shoots the crossbow at David’s highlights. Screaming and fumbling blindly at his newly revealed bald patch, David shouts at Nicola: ‘You’re paying to replace those hair plugs!’, before being distracted by his own reflection on Ants dressing table mirror.
Meanwhile, Simon is busy chatting up the chamber maid, and fails to notice Nicola sneaking up behind him with the butter dish, her weapon of choice. Its too late before he sees her, and the butter dish is already upon him: “Oh my god!! Is that butter??” he screams, before covering his mouth and shrieking hysterically “My personal trainer says that fats make fatties!”. George comes to his senses and fires his agent, before picking Joe up casually in a fireman’s lift and leaving the set with his head held high. Nicola and Timmy stand facing each other. She’s got the butter dish, Timmy’s got the AK-47. She tells him bitterly that no one finds him funny, a shot rings out, and then there is silence. David, awoken from his trance by the gunshot, turns towards Timmy. He smiles. “Timmy!”, he says, “It’s you and me! We can leave together and record ‘Biff Baff Boff’!”. A smile plays upon Timmys lips, he lifts the crossbow. He’s finally found his calling, and it isn’t presenting childrens television.
By Nicolette Smith
When not neglecting her social life and educational development in favour of watching televisual detritus, Nicolette enjoys pretending to be interested in her colleagues children and reading books rather than talking to actual people. She is still young enough to be contemplating getting an offensive slogan tattooed on her person, but old enough to rationalise that this is probably a poorly thought-out plan for the new-and-improved Nicolette of the future.