Michele Hewitson: Fire and cigar smoke

The guy pitching a game called Hunted, in which you get to shoot actors dressed up as aliens, didn't get his $180,000 from the Dragons.

He did get his alien hunter, a guy dressed up in a sci-fi suit with a big gun, to shoot at Bob Jones. That was worth at least $180,000 and no doubt a few people would have paid much more for the pleasure. Including, possibly, Jones' fellow dragons.

Jones is, one episode of the New Zealand Dragons' Den in, firmly established as the grumpy old man of New Zealand television. He is also head pedant and the guy who goes on about good manners while claiming title to being the rudest grumpy old man of New Zealand television.

He bought into a company selling plastic gardening clips. Barry Colman said, "When they walked in and I saw they were wearing ties, I said to myself, 'I bet Bob buys this.' "

Bob didn't laugh. He was probably hanging out for a cigar. He was the the day I visited the set. Who gets what money, or abuse, from Bob may well depend on how long it was since he had his last cigar.

Even before he bought a slice of the garden clip company, he was griping. "You need an apostrophe."

God help the ecstatic inventors.

Dragons' Den is terrific telly. It has it all: all that the British version had, and that the Aussie one lacked. It has tension and personalities; cynics and idealists; delusions and egos.

It doesn't simply pit dragons against hopefuls, it pits dragon against dragon.

The woman pitching tool belts for women and bedroom tool kits for women had Colman and Annette Presley pitching right back at her.

Wily fox Colman said he couldn't offer much expertise because "I'm not really good at anything really." But, he advised against two women running a business for women.

"If I was you, I wouldn't have a woman partner. I think you'd be safer with me." This is because with a bloke you'd get objective views, not subjective ones. This is called divide the chicks, and rule.

He got his share of the business and, as he euphorically told me on the set: "I just paid $250,000 for a kiss."

This is reality telly so there must be humiliation too. Victoria, a woman pitching a website, who chose to demonstrate provider and customer by, bafflingly, madly, putting on different hats, felt the full force of dragon Bob's breath. Which was like a blowtorch to her deluded dreams.

"You've treated us like children. For God's sake ... this is the worst presentation I've ever seen."

This bodes well for the rest of the series. If that's Bob being diplomatic, bring on Bob saying what he really thinks. Someone, give that man a cigar.

Oh, and give Julie Christie one too for making really good, riveting telly, And we get to see Christie on the other side of the telly box too - which has its own fascination value.

As does, in a strange sort of way, Holmes on Prime on Saturdays at 7.30pm where the dragon within has been well and truly banished in favour of Holmes being very nice indeed.

And while you wouldn't want a grumpy old man doing a chat show, what's happened to the imp in Holmes which made him unpredictable, sometimes dotty, often engaging?

On Saturday he had three actors on, including Angela Ayers, appearing in Menopause, The Musical.

"So, where do you live now?" said Holmes, desperately, to Ayers. Which is the sort of thing you'd ask at the dinner party from hell when you couldn't think of another thing to say.

An attempt at his famous empathy of old: "I know about the hot flushes."

What would you say to that at a dinner party? I think you'd commit the Larry David social faux pas: leave before dessert and never mind that you'd never be invited back.

On Holmes the guests had to stay put on the couch while we at home went outside for a cigar.