When the Food Network caught Robert Irvine's fibs it couldn't have been more obvious. Originally his program, "Dinner Impossible," started with an impressive rundown of his credentials. "Robert Irvine has cooked for thirty years, serving fourteen presidents and eighteen Russian Tzars. He's owned thirty-nine four-star restaurants, invented quiche, and baked Prince Charles and Princess Di's wedding cake.

"Now we're going to pose an impossible cooking challenge to him. Can he do it, or is this Dinner Impossible?"

But then the rumors start popping up in newspapers saying that some of this stuff wasn't exactly true, and the next week his program started like this:

"Robert Irvine has done a lot of cooking. He made some onion rings once, and actually baked bran muffins without using a mix. Now we're going to pose an impossible cooking challenge to him. Can he do it, or is this Dinner Impossible?"

See, it turns out all those claims were, er, slightly exaggerated. Mr. Irvine, um, made a typo. Naturally the Food Network was furious. The next season's host was Michael Symon, winner of their "The Next Iron Chef." Mr. Symon proved to be as exciting as fava bean confit, though, so the producers brainstormed for replacements for Season 3. "Who do we know that's charismatic, manly, dynamic?" they asked themselves. Pause. "Hey, how about that liar guy?"

Luckily Robert Irvine was available. In between jobs. Just won the Pillsbury Bakeoff, getting ready to cater the Pope's granddaughter's Sweet Sixteen. This week he's back on TV like nothing ever happened, but the viewer can sense the change. Gone is the aura of toasted walnuts and browned butter. Now we just smell tired crap.

Okay, with a pinch of nutmeg.

The debut episode is a promo for MTV's Extreme Games, because what could be hipper than a roomful of balding dudes julienning squash? (Yes, I know it's something like XtrEeM GaMeZ, but I'm too lazy to Google it.) Mr. Irvine has just seven short hours to concoct and cook an "XtrEeM meAl" for two hundred "XtrEeM aThlEEts." Can he do it? Can he finish in time?

Oh, puh-leeze, I'm thinking. I could cook a meal for two hundred people in two hours, with all three of the hunky assistants tied behind my back.

Which, you know, I'd be willing to try.

Mr. Irvine seems to know he's running on empty. He dashes off a halfhearted menu:

XtrEeMly Cheesy Soup
XtrEeMly Crunchy Macadamia-Crusted Salmon
XtrEeMly Red but Not XtrEeMly Spicy Curried Chicken
XtrEeMly Fruity Tuna
XtrEeMly Room Temperature Pineapple Watermelon Salad
Espresso with XtrEeM Mini-Marshmallows

He musters a weak smile for the camera and we all can think is Oh. My. XtrEeM. God.

I didn't make it to the finish line, but I'm pretty sure I know how it'll go. One of the hunky assistants will drop a tray of Fruity Tuna, a volunteer will scorch the XtrEeM wonton skins. But somehow Mr. Irvine will finish dinner in time. All the bleached-blonde XtrEeM athletes will sidle up to him in their rad Oakley sunglasses and say, "Whoa, dude, that XtrEeMly Saucy Smoked-Salmon Lasagna was gnarly! Catch the XtrEeM GaMeZ on MTV!" Then they'll give Irvine a congratulatory snowboard, and he'll slide off into the sunset.

We faithful viewers bid our fond farewells knowing how next week's show will begin. "Robert Irvine has done a lot of cooking. He made some onion rings once, and actually baked bran muffins without using a mix. He took eight gold medals at the Winter Olympics. Now we're going to pose an impossible cooking challenge to him. Can he do it, or is this Dinner Impossible?"