On Monkey Tennis
"Dancing on Ice is the most dangerous reality programme on television," says shouty host Philip Schofield, never one to mince his words.
That's as maybe, but we are still to see severed limbs succumbing to razor sharp blades, or eyes being popped from their sockets as a C-List star faceplants onto the ice.
GET A GRIP, ITV.
Long-time readers already know my attitude to any reality television programme with the word "Celebrity" in the title. Yes, fading stars are more than welcome to ressurrect their flagging careers while punters pay a pound a throw on voting lines, but "sudden death elimination" should mean exactly that.
Fame should come with risk, and if you're that desperate to appear on the front page of Daily Star clutching the severed head of Katie Price, you must be prepared to suffer for your art. And this suffering must include a fair-to-middling chance of seeing your insides spurting all over a horrified, yet slightly aroused, Torville and Dean.
With Monkey Tennis once again cruelly overlooked by the TV schedulers (mostly because Ant & Dec pulled out at the last minute), it falls to me once again to stride confidently into a pitch meeting and hit them square between the eyes with my spunker of an idea:
Celebrity Monkey Knife-Throwing. On Ice. With Dale Winton.
And here's the twist: Blindfold.
I'd watch that.
Your one-line pitches for rubbish reality television show, if you please.