Yet again Alan Sugar declared he was “sick and tired” of the trio that sat before him bickering as he chose who to fire in the latest instalment of The Apprentice (22 May, 9pm, BBC1). Not as tired as I am of the show’s formula.

That is: give a dozen or so imbeciles a task, devote the first 30 minutes to them climbing over each other like crabs in a bucket to get in front of the camera and failing - spectacularly - to do what they’ve been asked, and then spend the final half an hour on Sugar tearing strips off them for presiding over a total, unmitigated balls up.

Yawn. Part of the problem with this, the ninth series of The Apprentice, is that they seem to be lacking a candidate whose idiocy is of such epic proportions that you feel compelled to switch on just to watch them make an arse of themselves. I’m thinking a Stuart “the brand” Baggs or a Lucinda “I’m technically useless” Ledgerwood here.

Don’t get me wrong, this lot are idiots. In this week’s mission - to sell overpriced produce to East Londoners in pop-up farm shops - a gaunt, orange woman whose gormlessness is matched only by misplaced self-belief (doesn’t narrow it down, I know) mistook a cow for a horse, and a sharp-suited spiv (again, take your pick) confused a pint for a litre of milk. But their idiocy is insipid.

In the end only £91 split the losers and the winners, who prevailed by repackaging Laverstoke Park buffalo steaks and foisting it on passers-by. Sugar should’ve fired them all. Then the BBC should fire him.