Height, as they say, imitates talent. Just look at Ant ‘n’ Dec, the teeniest-tiniest people in all of television’s glittering show business. Even Kylie Minogue looks down someone else’s nose at them.
Described as a ‘comedy (we’ll be the judge of that) duo’, their career consists of jumping around back stage at god-awful talent shows like pygmies on amyl, while offering the sort of commentary that makes Alex Jones off-of The One Show look like Camille Paglia. For this, they never knowingly don’t win tip-top telly awards, mostly those voted for by eleven-year-olds with too may sims.
One of the shows they present is called Saturday Night Take Away. It is, ladies and germs, utter wank. And not in a good way. On it, the sort of people who send in photographs of themselves to Channel 4’s Sunday Brunch take part in hilarious games to try and win the shite they’re peddling during the ad breaks. It might be entertaining were it not for the fact that it’s not entertaining at all.
And their rewards plural for presenting said televisual night terror? £8.4million per year. Which is £700,000 a month. Which works out at £23,000 a day. Or £972.2 recurring per hour. Which comes to 16 of Her Majesty’s Golden Pounds per minute, which is more than some people earn in a lifetime. And that, pop-pickers, is the dirty price of mediocrity.
Oh, and if we’ve got any of those calculations a bit wrong, soz. We were too busy applying rouge in Ant and/or Dec’s forehead.