Michele Hewitson: The scissors are out

I really want to hear somebody say, "a dingo took my hair salon", on Tabatha's Salon Takeover (Friday, 9.30pm, TV3.) This is unlikely. Tabatha might provide proof, should it have been needed, that you can take the stroppy Aussie sheila out of Australia and transport her to America, but she remains, like the dingo, unique to the country that made her. But those Americans probably don't know about dingos. They're about to learn.

Tabatha Coffey is the latest incarnation of the tough telly bitch (that nanny; those Weakest Link bossy cows; those B&B inspectors; Trinny and Susannah). They all have a touch of the dominatrix about them: I'm going to whip your buttocks but it'll be good for you and you will like it. Her catch phrase is: "I'm tough, I'm talented, I'm taking over."

What Tabatha does, as the title suggests, is storm into failing hair salons, tell the owners what losers they are, tick off the staff and attempt to turn their businesses into successes. There is a salon make-over. There are the hidden cameras. There are the clients who are really plants. There is swearing a la Gordon Ramsay. There are tears and tantrums. Kwana, owner of last week's salon, was a bawler. She thought she might jump off the roof. You wouldn't want her coming at you with a pair of scissors.

You wouldn't want Tabatha coming near you at all. And she doesn't want anyone coming near her. She appeared to be genuinely aghast (I swear I saw a glimpse of little, sharp dingo teeth) when a hairdresser looked as though he was going to embrace her. "That was horrifying. I thought he was going to hug me."

I was horrified too. A fatal mauling by a wild animal would not be family entertainment. Next week, Tabatha looks as though she may have met her match: a salon owner who bites back. He says it's hard to take advice from somebody who dresses like Cruella de Vil. That's not a bad line. But there's a better one going begging.

Another night, another reality show. The Chopping Block (Tuesday, TV2) is yet another of the chefs-as-gladiators variety. Marco Pierre White used to be known for being a chef, and as the enfant terrible of the great British restaurant game. He is known for having a vile temper. He trained Gordon Ramsay who outdid him in those stakes, and they fell out along the way - the way macho blokes do when they are out-machoed.

Now Marco seems to think he's some sort of great oracle. There is the Red Team and the Black team, all couples of some sort (partners, cousins, best friends) in an Amazing Race to be awarded their own restaurant. And, then there is "one man to guide them on their journey". I was waiting for Gandalf to appear. "Thank you," Marco intoned, "for allowing me to take you by the hand". And, "to reach great heights, you have to find great depths within yourselves". I really wanted the narrator to say: "And, lo, there appeared among them, one chef to rule them all."

The unthinkable happened (I mean, other than the script) and a nice couple obviously decided that the manufactured competition left a nastier taste than a haunch of maggoty dingo, and said they were leaving the show.

What bad sports. Didn't they know that you're not supposed to behave like real people on reality telly? Somebody should give them their own show. But nobody would watch it. There would be no reason to watch it. It wouldn't be yet another show where the nasty, pushy, bitey people win.