THE BBC's idea to save £700 million by spending £500,000 on consultants to advise on Delivering Quality First (DQF) - the broadcasters cost cutting programme - could lead to some sad-face, crying in a bucket, changes to their output.

Getting some sharp-suited consultants with Parker pens in is the only way a bloated mega-corporation can deal with identifying where to make the best cuts - after all, no one else could come up with inspired, original and profound ideas such as making people redundant and scrapping Homes Under the Hammer.

Of course, if I'd been invited in to come up with some radical proposals, a) I would have charged much more, b) come up with a better name, probably Cash in the Pragmatic, and c) I’d have merged BBC programmes together to make super-programmes. With the cash I make I’d have bought more suits and Parker pens and gone to ITV with a very definite view on Vernon Kay.

Anyway, Tonight’s the Night would merge with Newsnight to become Tonight’s the Newsnight in which John Barrowman wears a brightly-coloured suit with lights in the sleeves, and interviews leading political figures such as Ed Balls, before making their dreams come true by popping up in the Commons disguised as Jeremy Paxman in a hat and inviting them to sing on the Tonight’s the Newsnight stage.

Each night Barrowman sings a topical opener. Like tonight for instance, it would be about increased unemployment and would be to the tune of It’s Raining Men. Dancers would symbolise the misery of the prols as the Bank of England's governor Mervyn King tells teary-eyed, hard-working Britain that the economy could stagnate until the middle of next year. And there’d be glitter cannons.

To lighten the nation’s mood, A Question of Sport and Question Time would become A Question of Time, in which politicians and fat-mouthed minor celebrities like Richard Bacon or Vanessa Feltz answer one question. The audience of angry voters wearing jumpers and chinos sit there tutting and looking at their watches, waiting for the government to do something about life and unemployment and stuff.

BBC News 24 would be scrapped and linked with BBC News at One, BBC News at Six and BBC News at 10 to become BBC News at 246110. There would only be one presenter and that would be Huw Edwards. Each morning he would be filled with helium and pushed in the direction of news so he can do it live and on the scene. Which is what everyone watching the news wants to see. Otherwise it's boring.

Doctor Who could merge with Who Do You Think Your Are? to become Doctor Who Do You Think Your Are? in which the ageing Timelord goes back through his history, meeting his predecessors, and recalling how his fourth incarnation defeated the Daleks that one time. Richard Madeley would narrate because he’s not up to much these days and is cheap - unless Chris Evans is having another holiday and he's asked to fill-in on Radio 2.

Top Gear of the Pops could provide much needed "youth interest" by combining the latest cars with the latest fad in singers. I can imagine Justin Beiber in a Ford Cortina would go down well with the 10 to 12-year-old demographic that's so hard to cater for. Justin would then discuss the car in detail before launching into an argument with Jeremy Clarkson about prostitutes.

Springwatch and Crimewatch would join forces with Watchdog and have a programme that deals with villainous Springer Spaniels who commit antisocial acts in parks and then find it difficult to return a television to Currys, but only during the spring. Unless you add in Autumnwatch, then you can have two series each year.

Finally, BBC’s Children in Need would drop the child angle and just become BBC’s in Need. The seven hour charity fundraiser teleathon of wonder would see Terry Wogan host non-stop and include clips of BBC staff saying why they need the money.

Perhaps someone wants to cover an important issue in Birmingham or the drama department needs some extra cash to do another Jane Austen adaptation for Radio 4 and wants to hire Martin Jarvis to narrate.

Intermingled with the sadness would be fun though, people sleeping in baths filled with beans desperate to make enough cash so we can keep The One Show on the air and fulfill the contract renewal of Alex Jones.

SARAH Jane Smith is back on television this evening (that's Monday evening). I’m on holiday so I’m allowed to stay up and watch it (CBBC, 5.15pm).

The series follows the electrifying escapades of Doctor Who’s the Doctor’s former fellow traveller Sarah Jane Smith (Elisabeth Sladen) in the imaginatively titled “Sarah Jane Adventures”. I hope you’re keeping up.

This evening’s awesome adventure is all about a boy from Chatham (he really is) who can’t act (he really can’t), and keeps appearing to have “nightmares” about a strange cape-commanding man (he has finger-less gloves) with a white face who hasn‘t had much sleep recently. Turns out he’s called the “Nightmare Man”.

I’m not giving anything away though as this two-part story is called “The Nightmare Man”. I hope you’re keeping up.

But guess what - this fetid dream fellow is preposterously pernicious - and his existence spells certain peril for the world’s population. Thank God then that Sarah Jane is around with her sonic lipstick (really, that's what she has) and Nissan Figaro. And that talking computer whose voice sounds like Alexander Armstrong from BBC2 hit quiz show Pointless. Sarah Jane’s no-nonsense former-journalistic approach to these threats is certainly convivial for us all.

For some reason Sarah Jane has been given her own series. But what of the oft forgotten Doctor Who companions? The Romana Drama; Bonnie Langford in Hot Milk; K9 and the Mysterious Intangible Cat. Shouldn’t they be given a 30-minute children’s television show? Or even some of the baddies? The Cybermen and the Unfathomable Mrs Pilchard?

I can well envisage the Daleks starring in a hard-hitting, grim, urban police drama in which Bradley Walsh (who is Detective Sergeant Ronnie Brooks - the grim imagery being the fuel that ignites his powerful portrayal) is ruthlessly tracking down a murderer whose been killing prostitutes in the wrong part of Brixton. Things are getting messy, Bradley is looking grim.

He’s drinking tea and following a clue found on the back of an old peanut packet and soon discovers it was a Dalek suckering off those lonely men (don't get me started on it's gun). There’s an intense court scene in which the judge bangs his gavel a lot and the cross-examination of the Dalek reveals character traits the audience wasn’t expecting. Maybe it was doing it for its kids or had a heroin addiction. Or both. Maybe the Dalek's new lover has put it to work on the streets as a transorganism prostitute?

How about those farting fellas the Slitheen? We all know they can disguise themselves as humans. It could be an engrossing new game show fronted by Vernon Kay for ITV1. It would work a bit like Guess Who in which you ditch all the ginger people and those with glasses and, if you’ve played well, you’re left with the Slitheen at the end. (Does your person wear glasses? Does your person have blonde hair? Does your person slip a cheeky one out when no one is looking? ) There’d be loads of celebrities from Coronation Street and EastEnders taking part too.

At the end of the show- if you’ve guessed right - the Slitheen would emerge from it's skin-suit (disguised as Shane Ritchie in episode one) and rip Vernon Kay to shreds. You could then switch over to ITV2 and watch the production team trying to staple and sellotape him back together in time for the next show. I think Adrian Chiles would probably host.

VERNON Kay is the human-equivalent of a wasp. It probably serves some purpose in the grand scheme of things but what it is you haven’t got a clue. Maybe it’s to annoy me.

The similarities between Vernon Kay and a wasp go beyond lacking any obvious function. Like a wasp he buzzes around meaninglessly, looking lost and frowning when I scream “go away, leave me alone!”

Quite why ITV then decided he’d be the perfect replacement for Les Dennis to host Family Fortunes is beyond me.

But if, like me, you lay awake at night, tossing and turning trying to work it out, I think I’ve cracked it.

For a start, this sparkly re-imagined version fulfils a number of Saturday night’s celebrity-orientated TV executives’ wet dreams:

1. We need an annoying host whose previous body of work consists of crap teen programming but isn’t as good as Simon Amstell.

2. Celebrity. We can’t have normal people saying amusing things, we need celebrities. Preferably recalling chance encounters with Fearne Cotton or Holly Willoughby.

3. Have a cheesy opening title sequence with Vernon Kay on a lift (which you wish would crash to the floor) before gazing at the camera and tugging his collar.

With all the boxes ticked off Vernon Kay, with his height and brown hair, fidgets onto the screen. Ugh.

The announcer even thinks he’s too tall: “He’s so tall, birds nest in his hair” shouts the voice-over man. I imagine the only bird willing to nest in Vernon Kay’s head would be a cock.

This week’s offering serves up Brian Blessed (who hasn’t got a hinge on his jaw) and Rebecca Adlington (who has).

Anyway, Brian Blessed is brilliant and Vernon Kay’s constant impressions of him aren’t.

Brian and his daughter make it through to the final and both give excellent answers on “name a type of food you would keep in the freezer”. His daughter offers milk and Brian gives yoghurt. Without this the show would be as annoying as Eggheads.

But I still long for the haze-tinted Saturday nights of 1994 when Les Dennis was at the very pinnacle of his presenting career. Pre-Amanda Holden, he breezed onto the screen like a pleasant deodorant. Fortunately you can relive those heady days by tuning in to Challenge (Sky 125) at the same time and catching proper Family Fortunes with real people.

Les comes chortling onto the set full of energy and youthful vigour and says something funny, unlike Kay. Then he uses his thumbs to point out the two families. In the new version you have to watch a film about them.

Hilariously one of the real people accidentally called Les “Des,” and Les did a mock look of pain to camera. The audience fall about (which to be fair they do with Kay but I reckon they’re being prompted by a bored producer).

Some of the real people have funny stories to tell and Les does his best to laugh at those stories and does impressions of Mavis Wilton or Frank Spencer. He even did a John Wayne on Saturday which caught me off guard but the audience really enjoyed it. (To be fair the audience enjoyed Kay’s impressions of Brian Blessed but, as I say, they’re being prompted, I’m sure of it)

Sexual innuendo constantly creeps into the show. I remember one question was “name something you take to bed with you when your partner is away.” Oh, how the audience tittered, spurred on by Les’ scurrilous looks to camera.

The Bring Back Les Dennis campaign starts here.