FAIRYTALES IN THE DRAGONS DEN

A personal experience - Written by Marneta Viegas

BBC 2 Tuesday 8pm - Dec. 20th 2005

"You’re an actress aren't you" one of the dragons asked.  Yes that's right – but none of my years of performing experience could prepare me for the Dragon's Den.

 I watched the compulsive first series and vowed I would never put my nerves through such an ordeal.  But three months later an email arrived asking for participants and I replied just for a laugh – never believing I would actually make it through the 4,000 other applications.
Nothing could have prepared me for the ordeal I was to go through.  No one told me my feet would sweat so much that they would make a squeak as I walked into the room.  'Breathe out' chimed the voice my head – the perfect antidote for getting up those stairs and not being puffed when you arrive.  But no one warned me about the camera pointing at my puffed out cheeks as I reached the top.  Instructions of where to walk and where to stand where to stand were meticulously given by both the assistant producer and floor manager, but somehow once I entered, the instructions disappeared and I had to walk up the steps of doom again.

So there I stood, having waited 9 ½ hours in an airless room for this precious moment.  I had minutes to prove myself or be mercilessly slain by five dragons, who, at 6.30pm were tired and teasy and hungry for their dinner. 
My mouth went dry …'I can’t be nervous – I am the queen of relaxation – I have to live my brand or no one will believe in me' boomed a little voice.  All I had left was my smile, so I just carried on smiling.  The pitch that had been practised hundreds of times to every friend and acquaintance who would listen seem to abandon ship just at the moment of need.  I was met by a line of yawns, rolling eyes, shaking heads and knowing looks.  Knowing instantly that they didn’t like my humble offering, I still couldn't help noticing that behind their rough and tough exterior, the dragons had a softness that they seemed to be making intense efforts to hide. 

As I stumbled through the remains of the pitch, managing to miss out all the crucial information such as what Relax Kids is about, I had to pause temporarily to allow the sound man to joyfully rescue a lost microphone from my cleavage.  This was received with the kind of jeers and comments you would find on a building site – but all cleverly disguised as gentlemanly comments you understand!
After a moment light relief – the slaying began.  'Are you mad?' remarked one, 'How can you value your business at a million pounds' retorted another, 'Is it a cult?', 'Are you hypnotising us?', 'How many CDs are WH Smith about to order…How many?  How many? How many?'  squealed the Scottish dragon in an ever increasing crescendo.

The answer to most of the above was well 'erm' 'er' and 'umm' – three words I was always told never to use!  I had run through my figures over and over again with at least three business coaches and consultants, but to no avail.  Figures tend to make my eyes glaze over – for me the reason for Relax Kids is not a string of cleverly devised figures, but making a profound difference to thousands of children’s lives.
'We’re not interested in turnover squawked the dragon – it’s profit that matters – turnover is vanity'  Well, in retrospect it appears that my small first year trading profit was in deed more than the female dragon who now seems to be surrounded by angry Red Letters.
One of the dragons did ask for a Relax Kids CDs and promised to pay, but I am still waiting for the cheque – well I suppose that's how he has got 300 million and I have just 3 thousand!

Well, I don't want to tell you the end of the story and ruin the surprise, so I won't say whether they handed over their fistfuls of cash and they offered me heaps of advice. All I can say is that I walked off in my squelchy shoes – hopefully head held high – praying I wouldn’t trip up the stairs on the way down.
Speaking to fellow Dragons Den entrepreneurs it seems that I got off lightly – with only a few minor scratches.  Nothing could have prepared me for what I had to go through in there, but I wouldn’t have missed in for the world. I learnt valuable lessons so I just think I might try my luck at Pop Idol, Simon Cowell is a puppy dog in comparison and doesn’t ask you to remember any figures!