The Apprentice might have returned at a time when the only position we really want to see businessmen in is with their heads on the end of spikes, but for sheer comedy value-for-money this series consistently takes some beating. Sure enough, last night's opening episode offered plenty of moments to cherish. 

This week the contestants had to make as much money as possible in a day by cleaning things. No-one has the creepy foresight to offer to polish Sir Alan's shiny motor, instead they bought their cleaning gear from him and went in search of other flash motors to buff. Amazingly both teams found a car dealer and a cab firm to give them work. Now I know the Beeb is all about transparency these days, but is it just a tiny bit possible that those lovely firms agreed in the hope that they might get on the telly? Of course not. Slap my wrists for thinking such dark thoughts. 

Maybe car-cleaning wasn't such a good idea. The women's team had difficulties with their jet hose for starters. "No dumb blonde" Kate, who looks like the weird mutant offspring of Jodie Marsh and Heather Mills, could not work it out. I think I might be a bit obsessed with Kate. When she talks – particularly when on speakerphone, half of her mouth goes up in the air like 50% of Tower Bridge.

As for the boys they waved their sponges around as if they hadn't done a day's hard graft in their life. They ignored the advice of team leader Howard who said don't do the insides of cars and promptly made a pig's ear of the inside of a car. Having said that, Phillip is an estate agent, so he probably hasn't done a day's hard graft during the property crash. No wonder he is after a new job.

In the end the boys won, but not because of the size of their wad. They took about £347. After costs of equipment were subtracted they emerged with a surplus of around £239. I think we are going to be hearing a lot of the already-tired phrase "Turnover is vanity, profit is sanity" over the forthcoming weeks. So that makes earnings for the day of around £34 each. Fred Goodwin eat your heart out.

As for the girls, they took more money but spent more on mops and Shake 'n' Vac, finishing with a profit of £160.55. As a result they would have been better off if they'd stayed at home with their £200 budget and put their feet up with a copy of Heat and a mug of cocoa. But that just wouldn't be good telly, would it Alan? And I'd have missed Kate's assymetrical mouth.

The boardroom showdown took up almost as much screentime as the task, because the produces know that we like nothing better than seeing business-types stab each other in the back. Or in the front when it came to Debra and team captain Mona. Yet while they tore each other apart, if was Anita, whose mouth looks like it has been taken from one of those old identikit sets and stuck on upside down, who was fired. "I'm the complete package" said lawyer Anita. Well you are the complete something love, but "package" was not the word I was thinking of.

By the way, the men's team is called Empire, the women's team is called Ignite. You can bet your house that the phrases "the spark has gone out of Ignite" and "rise and fall of the Empire" are said before the series is out. And also by the way, isn't crinkle-faced Sir Alan looking more like Sid James with every bloody week? Which is apt, because this show is a right carry on.

After the unavoidable ads, the press hype and the flurry of excitement the show finally arrives. Horne & Corden, on BBC3 on Tuesday nights at 10.30pm is an odd hybrid of a sketch show. Quite why this vehicle for the two chummy stars of Gavin & Stacey is on so late for starters is a mystery to me. Ok, there are gags of a sexual nature – imagine Dick and Dom with dick jokes – but these days you get those at 9pm on BBC1. On the news. Probably.

Most of the show is decidedly old-fashioned, which is both a strength and a weakness. With their quickfire sketches about rival superheroes at the gym and spoof magicians, this feels closer to old school seventies comedy or Kenny Everett than Little Britain. It makes Catherine Tate feel as cutting edge as Chris Morris. 

At times it is so blatantly end-of-the-pier it seems like this kind of retro-humour must surely be being ironic and knowing. There is even a camp war reporter ("It's all kicking off. It's nuts") played by Mathew Horne, who, like Al Murray's current camp Nazi in his ITV1 sketch show is so over the top it is as if alternative comedy never happened.

Another odd sketch features James Corden as a bearded British actor who looks like David Brent after a few too many pies filming Karate Kid 14 and constantly upstaging his co-star. If this isn't a dig at Ricky Gervais's Hollywood career I'll eat my own weight in burgers. It is an odd bit of bitchiness in a very amiable show featuring two very amiable performers. 

Of course, Horne and Corden isn't really aimed at me. It is as self-consciously yoofy as Baddiel & Newman's comedy-as-rock-and-roll shows were back in the early nineties. But take away the gags about Lily Allen, the screaming at the sight of the stars' bare bottoms and the hip youth cub studio set-up and you've got something that anyone who likes unthreatening, unadventurous, comedy might like. Just like Gavin & Stacey, this could find itself becoming an unlikely mainstream hit.