The name's Seymour. David please for the love of God just pack your bags and leave Seymour. The creature from the Act lagoon reckoned he was going to come over all James Bond on Dancing with the Stars last night. But he wasn't anything like 007. He was more like .000,000,007.
Why do fractions suddenly appear every time he is near? He's forever less than zero. He's a study in absence, in loss, in missing parts. He's not the full picnic. The lights aren't on and no one's home. He's a vacant lot. He's a lot of vacancy.
Certainly he's original, even daring. Technique, energy, flair - he's got no time for that sort of nonsense. He goes his own way, which is no way. Instead of moving, he stands around. If you saw him at a party you'd pick him up and put him in the broom cupboard.
His continued presence is making a travesty of the latest series. He's stinking out the joint. He has to go. Judge Camilla spoke to the nation last night and basically made a public appeal to save the show from the worst dancer in television history.
"Look what happened last week," she said, meaning the dance-off was fought by two contestants who were a lot better than the dreaded Seymour. It mustn't happen again, she said. The strain is getting to her and who can blame her? It's making everyone look bad.
When it came to rating his performance, Camilla said the best thing she could say about him is that he was "non-offensive". Judge Rachel pretty much ignored him altogether, and complimented his dance partners. Judge Julz, as ever, had the best take. "That," he said, "was nervous and strange."
Nervous and strange. Exactly! Bores in the parliamentary press gallery have written and broadcast thousands of words about Seymour over the years but they were wasting their breath. Julz got to the heart of the matter in just two words. Nervous and strange. Nervous, strange, and continuing to exist.
No more. Tonight the public have to perform a civic duty and vote in record numbers for the other contestants. Once Seymour is consigned to the dance-off, he won't have a hope.
Robert, who is refusing to show himself, is having something of a crisis of confidence, and is edging closer and closer to the end of his own plank, could beat him. Rog could beat him if he fell over again and failed to regain consciousness. Jess could beat him with one blade tied behind her back.
The judges will want to wipe the smirk off Seymour's face. Their own expressions have soured. For the first few weeks, they greeted his performances with smiles and shrugs, and tried to see the positives. After a while, they dropped the positives but kept the smiles and shrugs, and tried to be patronising. Last night, they'd all had a gutsful. Their faces were hard as stone.
How much longer will the show be held hostage by the good people of Epsom? The plot sickens. Tonight, surely, is when it stops. Out with Seymour. Off with Seymour's head. Live and let die.