Bruce Forsyth must have a massive head at the minute. Okay, a bigger skull than usual. Why? Because, in an attempt to pat his decrepit back before he finally dies, everyone on TV is falling over each other to celebrate him and tell everyone just how brilliant he is. In the past 12 months, I’ve seen a bashful Brucie graciously accepting praise from peers more than I’ve seen useful news reports.

And so, the latest fawngramme was Bruce Forsyth: A Comedy Roast (Channel 4, Wednesday, 7 April, 10pm) which saw Brit comedyfolk copying the long-standing American tradition of “roasting” a much-loved star with a bunch of nasty tributes.

Basically, it’s a bunch of best-man speeches without the cake.

Bob Hope is a notorious fan of the roast, so Channel 4 thought “Who is our equivalent?” They looked under the nearest liver-spot and found a grinning, dribbling Brucie, tap-dancing and muttering his catchphrases to himself whilst trying to maintain a feeble erection for his glamorous Miss World wife.

Of course, you may think these jibes are cruel, but that’s the nature of one of these roastings. It’s all about being horrible and then passing the whole thing off with a wink – that is, if you’re still able to produce the relevant muscle power to do so and indeed, create the minuscule amount of fluid required to stop your eyeball from drying up like a pork scratching, ready to tumble out of your chalky skull which breaks up like bread on a hot-wash… eh Bruce? Eh?

*wink*

Fact is, most of the assembled idiots managed to be reasonably nasty about Forsyth. Wossy, Jimmy Carr and Sean Lock did their best to wound a man quadruple their age – even if they weren’t necessarily very funny.

However, some people just chickened out completely. Jason Manford for example simply got on stage and did Play Your Cards Right and made eyes at the camera that said “Please, give me more work! I want to go mainstream like Brucie! I promise I won’t say anything remotely controversial!” As such, you got the impression that Manford would much rather be on-stage at something like An Audience With Bruce Forsyth, rather than having to deal with the scrotum tightening world of The Hecklers.

Not that it really mattered. The whole thing was an exercise in slapping the back of a walking corpse – not too hard mind you. Forsyth would explode like a balloon full of talcum powder and shrivelled offal.

Eh?

*wink*

Weirdly enough, the most funny and charming person to talk on stage was Bruce’s wife who slagged him off nicely and came across as very charming and warm indeed, making the assembled comedians look like drunks from a dick-swinging clubhouse.

You’ll be pleased to know that there’s more of these career-killing shows waiting in the wings. At least Mr Forsyth is now immune from any last criticism thanks to his being a National Treasure.

And nearly dead.