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Dragons’ Den series 11 episode 7 review| Early bath for Fredy

Dragons' Den series 11 episode 7


BBC Two

They’re back! Pies Linney, Devourer Medung, Jock McSlasher, Peeturd Blownes and Smelly Ploppen return to the Dragons’ Den after a mid-series hiatus that left Britain’s entrepreneurs stranded like some prehistoric nomadic tribe hunting in the wild for angel investors. It’s worth the wait though when Bulgarian inventor Fredy Vasilev rolls up. Boldly declaring his own genius like Oscar Wilde or Jas Mann, Fredy offers the Dragons 20% stake in his Unique Automation company including its flagship self-filling bath product Bath-o-matic, and all he wants is “an undefined amount of your passion for success “. Oh and £1 million.

Fredy offers the Dragons 20% stake in his Unique Automation company and all he wants is “an undefined amount of your passion for success “. Oh and £1 million.

They ask him to repeat it. They heard right. Fredy wants 1 million of their Earth pounds. Perhaps he’ll take an IOU? Jock McSlasher has a look that’s more IFU but Fred persists. Having spent £1 million of his own money building his bath that looks like a giant iPhone he now feels the world is ready for the message: bath time should be automated. Some would argue that bath time was already automated by an existing invention called “plumbing” but Fredy ain’t trying to hear that.

Bath time should be automated. Some would argue that bath time was already automated by an existing invention called “plumbing”.

Peeturd, the been-there done-that Dragon who has had his fingers in more pies than Dave Lee Travis, tells him he’s already got a self-filling bath in Portugal that he can control from his iPad. Fred assures him he’s mistaken. After some discussion it turns out Fred is wrong – Peeturd does have a self-filling bath and a self-fulfilling one too. Smelly has also heard of these products and she notes that nobody who buys one ever uses it.

Does any of this deter Fred? The fuck it does. A track record of proven failure for the product is no match for his visionary zeal. He cites a massive London development who have bought 2000 of his product. That’s right, 2000. But he can’t seem to remember what the development is called, where the building is, or if in fact there is a London. In the end he concedes that he has sold nothing. I’m not saying this is a bad pitch but… this is a really terrible pitch.

He cites a massive London development who have bought 2000 of his product. But he can’t seem to remember what the development is called, where the building is, or if in fact there is a London

Devourer is dumbfounded. And, furthermore, “blinking irritated”. Fredy is humbled and apologises for the “negative feelings” he’s created. We have no idea how far back this apology goes – to birth? A past life as a medieval court nause? He’s clearly unwell. In any case, they are out like Thomas Hitzlsperger and we move the fuck along.

Then comes some idiot freak calling himself “Duncan Wood” flogging bullshit Tron facemasks that he claims promote cell regeneration and collagen elasticity by baking the wearer’s face in “colours which are beneficial to the skin and not harmful”. Well, I’m convinced.

Peeturd and Pies put them on and Smelly and Devourer piss themselves laughing at them which at least lighten the mood a little. Jock asks him to back up his bullshit claims with science. He cites the Greeks and Jock quite rightly tells him to fuck off with his hippy savagery. Smelly also has reservations. “I have facials” she confesses. Bloody hell. Isn’t this going out before the watershed? The upshot is Wood and his dark ages witchcraft crawl back to whatever hovel spawned them. Wanker.

In minor news a backpacker tries and fails to sell her knickers like a Japanese schoolgirl in a vending machine, an expensive pooper scooper gets turded, a nine-year-old child gets Smelly to invest in his repair kit for water damaged phones and a clubbing destination travel agent duo get Pies on board their 18-30 for dance music turds plane.

But ultimately this was all about Fredy Vasilev, his self-filling bath and his limitless delusion. Without the likes of him Dragons’ Den simply doesn’t exist.

The verdict: Needs a scrub down.

Marks out of 10: 7.5

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