If an alien lands tomorrow and demands to have The Apprentice interviews task explained (could happen), refer them directly to can

“This is like Christmas for Claude (Littner).

“Five young idiots with a business plan that he can completely rip apart.”

The most honest ever description of what remains an unmissable TV event, even at the rear end of such a disappointing series.

But you could forgive everything that’s gone before for the sparkling return to form by Lord Sugar’s greatest henchman.

Last year, having stepped into Nick Hewer’s shoes, Claude had become too cosy with the contestants and gave them an uncharacteristically easy ride.

This time, though, he was out of the blocks like Usain Bolt gone feral, tearing strips off the five least incompetent bozos left standing.

Alana on her cake company: “I will be the driving force.”

Claude: “God help us. You’re going to be the driving force?”

Grainne explaining why she didn’t get help writing her business plan: “I didn’t want anyone seeing it.”

Claude: “Why? They’re not going to steal the idea.”

The other three Horsemen — Linda Plant, Mike Soutar and Claudine Collins — provided excellent support roles. But this was Claude’s hour.

Oddly, though, the glorious sight of him unleashed in his natural habitat also exposes how far he still has to go to be the equal of Hewer, following the teams week in, week out.

And there’s a bigger concern that’s been niggling me increasingly as the series has gone on.

We are at industrial levels of boneheadery with the candidates.

The Apprentice has stopped being a business show almost entirely as the scale of their incompetence has spiralled.

The show does need deluded wannabes like Karthik, who’s presumably back operating on his “own separate super-highway”.

But without more imaginative tasks and at least some legitimate candidates, the show is in danger of grinding to a halt.

That’s for the BBC to address urgently before series 13.

For now, we’re left with the final two on Sunday night.

Gone are Frances, who forgot to reinsert the missing page outlining the small matter of her sales forecasts in her business plan, Grainne, who was too “spendy-happy”, and Jessica, who found out to her genuine surprise from Soutar that she’s still a director of a company she sold.

The final is between obvious winner Alana, whose boyfriend must have had a shock finding out that he’ll lose his job if they split, and authentically thick Courtney who, asked to name one thing he’d do if he knew he wouldn’t get caught, wrote “fart in a lift full of supermodels”.

It’s how Richard Branson started out, I’m sure.

Spudulikes…

Planet Earth II, the greatest argument for the licence fee.

Think Tank’s Bill Turnbull: “Which member of the famous Cambridge spy ring held the position of Surveyor of the Queen’s Pictures?” Contestant: “James Bond.”

X Factor final’s craziness, with Nicole Scherzinger wearing Matt Terry’s tiger-print onesie in his old bedsit and Gully the Brighton & Hove Albion seagull mascot holding a “5am 2 Win” banner upside down.

And the people’s princess and nightclub toilet attendant basher Cheryl discovering her four-times great grandfather John Wood Laing was short: “Nothing’s changed there, then,” before reading a ship’s log about his brother: “James Laing called me a bloody snot and struck me in the face.” Nothing’s changed there, then.

Spuduhates…

The Royal Variety Performance’s highlights turning out to be the Chuckle Brothers and Bernie Clifton.

Auntie trying to make the BBC Music Awards a thing when the winners stay away and nobody tunes in.

Sting turning up everywhere with that song he’s regurgitated from Message in a Bottle.

Schofe grabbing the grand total of 6min 47sec with the Duke of Edinburgh on ITV’s “year in the making” When Phillip Met Prince Philip.

EastEnders’ cliffhanger — Phil Mitchell asking where you can buy remote-controlled drones.

And C5’s joyful 6.30pm weeknight slot — The Big Brexit Bust-Up; 2016: Trump’s Triumphant Year; 2016: Showbiz Legends We’ve Lost; 2016: Terror In Europe. Merry blummin’ Christmas, everyone. See you in 2017.