GRAB your popcorn. Grab your hankies. Grab onto any semblance of reality to stop you slipping into the abyss of absurdity which this weird series has been.

I’ve spent each week laughing at this show, or just staring open-mouthed at the screen, and sometimes feeling like a genteel Victorian lady, fluttering my fan and calling for smelling salts, wondering “Can they do this? Are they allowed?! Oh mercy!”

The storyline, and the characters, have been so absurd and embarrassingly over-the-top that I eventually just gave up, stopped criticising, and started enjoying it. It was like being in a modern art gallery: who knows what all this crackpot stuff is supposed to mean? Ach, who cares? Just enjoy your day out.

In tonight’s finale there’s a moment on the beach which is so ludicrous I actually shouted with laughter. Reports come in of the shooting at the brothel and the trail leads the cops to Bondi Beach where … ah, even if I told you what happens you wouldn’t believe me. Just watch and have a good giggle.


I VISITED a Lego exhibition at Glasgow’s SECC last month, and was prepared to be swamped with noisy children, brats having tantrums and wee sticky hands fighting over the bricks, but I needn’t have worried as the place was full of middle-aged men. Yes, it seems Lego is a serious thing, not a toy. Whoever thought it was about keeping weans quiet was so wrong. Apparently it’s about skill and measurements and blueprints.

This jolly series sets teams against one another, and gives them elaborate challenges. The teams might be made of two wee pals, or a father and son, or an auntie and nephew, and it’s just like the Bake Off, but there are no Lego-built lambs and squirrels scampering outside.

Tonight they need to make a Lego model with moving parts and then build a fairground scene.