Miss Alli
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Credits. It's nothing personal; it's just idiots.
S4. Aspiring Corporate Weasel Death Watch -- which has become a fairly intimate affair, actually. We're down to a relatively itty-bitty number of weasels. Bill asks for predictions about who will get the boot, and Amy and Nick both throw their votes to Heidi. Indeed, Troy comes in the door, and Amy calls out, "Troy? Heidi?" Kwame spots Troy coming in and grins. "T-Roy!" he calls out. He gets up and goes to greet Troy, and they exchange an enthused hand-slap/pull-back thing that they've mastered and I can't describe, except to tell you that it says this: "Fuuuuuckin' A." It may also add "dude," right at the end. Troy settles himself in a chair to tell the tale, and shares the fact that Trump rode them hard for getting their asses kicked, and Troy's response was to point out his relative merit -- to tell Trump, "Everybody sucks, and I'm the best." The rest of the Aspiring Corporate Weasels all break out laughing, and Troy raises his hands in a victory gesture. They're all going to be great at mass layoffs someday.
“ Trump asks them why they didn't choose Amy, and Troy obediently says, 'Amy's got enough kudos as it is.' She smiles stiffly. I don't think Amy thinks she can ever get enough kudos. ”
Time-lapse footage of traffic takes us out of the evening and into the morning. And it looks cooler than you'd think time-lapse footage would look -- they do a good job on this show of using time-lapse in a way that makes the whole city look like a big wiggling amoeba. Bill and Nick stand, wrapped in towels, as Nick shaves and Bill brushes his teeth. Hang on a minute, I'm thinking about how shallow they must think I am. Still thinking. Still thinking. Okay, I'm done. Apparently, semi-nakedness is the order of the day, because Amy is out at the kitchen, also in a towel, getting some coffee. She's been grinding the Starbucks beans, it would appear. (Ew, no, that's not a euphemism.) The phone rings, and because the world just isn't quite that friendly, Kwame is fully dressed as he goes to answer it. He gets the instructions -- from Rona, who I just figured out is a different person from Robin. Robin sits in front of the huge "TRUMP" letters, and Rona sits in front of the newspaper clipping that says "Master Of The Universe." That took me eleven episodes. I would make a terrible Eagle-Eyed Forum Poster. Anyway, the instructions tell the candidates to meet Trump in an hour downstairs in the lobby of Trump Tower. One of the regularly-appearing Tense Music Cues plays as we stare at the giant wall of water in the Trump Tower lobby and see the candidates arranging themselves in a little arc. You know, we used to stand just like that in the college a cappella group I was in, and we used to call it "the cantaloupe." So whenever I see people stand in a cantaloupe, I expect them to start singing something with a lot of "doop doop" in it. (Yeah, laugh it up. But that experience is the only reason I can sing in Bulgarian.) Once the cantaloupe is arranged, Trump walks up with Ass-Kicking Carolyn and introduces the NotGeorge of the week. It isn't Bernie, the Primary NotGeorge, but is actually Mark Brown, the Secondary NotGeorge and the guy who runs Trump's Atlantic City hotels. Secondary NotGeorge looks like he just got here from a 1976 porno movie in which he plays the cuckolded husband.
Now it's time for the teams to be evened up, lest Troy and Kwame be whittled down to nothing. Troy and Kwame are told to pick a member of VersaCorp to kidnap. Now, from their perspective, of course, they can't take Amy, because Trump complained about that last time somebody did it. And they can't take Katrina, because she's bitchy and hates Troy and that's just...well, that's a ticket on the train to Bitchyville, Population Katrina. So they're stuck with Bill or Nick, and unsurprisingly, they select Boyfriend Bill -- who looks kind of bummed, but who I think should have seen this coming. Trump asks them why they didn't choose Amy, and Troy obediently says, "Amy's got enough kudos as it is." She smiles stiffly. I don't think Amy thinks she can ever get enough kudos. Trump affirms that he approves of their choosing somebody else for once.
“ Katrina bitches some more that with Nick and Amy having 'some kind of love affair,' she just doesn't need to be anyone's friend. Not that either Nick or Amy would want to be her friend anyway, it seems to me, but there's no reason to step on her point. Except, you know, to amuse myself. ”
Trump's order of business is to crow about the incredible beauty of the wall of water, which looks like it was inspired by a very unfortunate landlord-tenant situation, but which he claims has been very favorably reviewed, architecturally speaking. He also claims that people "come from all over the world" to come to Trump Tower. I can't help but wonder if he's claiming credit for the entire New York City tourism trade, because...let's face it -- he would. Oh, he throws in a "yooge" or two in there, which is great, because I can't help but admire a guy who can continue to use his iconic expressions with no sense of shame at all. Where would Dick Vitale be today if he had stopped saying "Gimme the rock!" when it started to get annoying? Trump goes on to tell the candidates that the Trump Taj Mahal is the number one hotel in Atlantic City, and you can almost hear the asterisk after this sentence pop up with a little subliminal noise, like "[Bink!]" But anyway, as Trump explains the task, the candidates will have to "come up with a promotional idea," but based on the actual published dossier that NBC posted on its site, the task is much more specific than that. The instructions they actually receive are to set up "a game of chance or skill" for people to register for. They then will get credit for all the people who sign up for their game, and all the money those people spend gambling after that. The game will run from 10:00 AM to 10:00 PM the day. The winning team will be whichever one makes the most money in total from its registered gamblers. Losing team? Boardroom. Duh. They're all being sent by bus to Atlantic City, and he'll see them there. They certainly are exploring all available forms of transportation. No hang gliders? I shouldn't complain. I sort of love the fact that you can be working for Donald Trump and still have to take a bus, to tell you the truth. Enjoy your last days among the proletariat, y'all. Soon you will be in a swirl of fame that won't subside for at least a week and a half.
When Trump is gone, Katrina stands with Amy and Nick, looking all bitchy with her arms crossed. Katrina really only has about three expressions -- she has Bitchyface, Flirtyface, and Self-Righteousface. They're the primary colors of her personality, and everything else is some combination of them. This is about 90 percent Bitchyface, with 10 percent Self-Righteousface thrown in for extra style points. She explains that Amy is acting as PM, and Katrina thinks it's time for Amy to "prove that she deserves the attention that she's getting." Jealousy is not really flattering on Katrina, any more than it's flattering on most people. Incidentally, speaking of "not really flattering," Amy's shirt here is one of the worst I've ever seen -- she's lovely, but of all her features, her chest is not actually the best one, and this shirt is like some kind of scientifically perfected Sag Emphasizer. In fact, I think it's the Sag Emphasizer Ultra, Now With Extra Gravity. I can't think of anyone who would look good in that lumpy beige thing -- I most certainly wouldn't -- but Amy really doesn't. Katrina bitches some more that with Nick and Amy having "some kind of love affair," she just doesn't need to be anyone's friend. Not that either Nick or Amy would want to be her friend anyway, it seems to me, but there's no reason to step on her point. Except, you know, to amuse myself.
“ Katrina says, 'I think that Nick and Amy both play each other.' Trump asks Amy whether that's true, and she looks up at the ceiling with a little smile, thinking how adorable she's going to look making this face on television, and she says it might be true. ”
Trump changes the subject, asking Katrina whether she's surprised that she was picked. She says, all smirky, that she wasn't at all. And why? "Because of a personal relationship that Amy and Nick have, I thought I would be chosen." "What does 'personal' mean?" Trump asks. "You mean...they like each other?" Katrina nods. "I'm surprised at you, Amy," Trump asks, giving her a little bit of a hard time. "I don't make a decision on personal relationships," Amy says, starting to sweat openly. She insists that she made the decision only based on who's better. "Let me put it this way," Katrina says, "I think that Nick and Amy both play each other." Trump asks Amy whether that's true, and she looks up at the ceiling with a little smile, thinking how adorable she's going to look making this face on television, and she says it might be true. He asks her whether she'd be disappointed if that were the case, and she gets all, "Oh, of course not!" when, in fact, she would be very upset to think that Nick was playing her, because she has it in her mind that it is the opposite. Asked whether she would be disappointed if Nick were just playing her, she insists, "I think Nick has a crush on me." Trump asks whether her relationship with Nick was the reason why Nick went up and Katrina stayed, and Amy insists that it wasn't. Amy says that of course, they all have personal friendships, because they live together, but she maintains that that doesn't make the decision for her.
Trump points out that after this firing, there will be one woman and four men left in the suite. "So they've staged a pretty good comeback," he says of the men who remain. "And you didn't help things by choosing a woman," Trump says. "You could have chosen your boyfriend." There is a pause, and Amy, in a full flop sweat, says that Nick isn't her boyfriend. Oh, sorry -- he's not her boyfriend "whatsoever." HA! She repeats that she thinks Nick is a better candidate than Katrina. Carolyn asks her, if that's true, why Amy would keep someone who's better competition down the line. Amy says that her focus is on "aligning [her]self with the strongest team members until the end." "And then you destroy them," Trump puts in. "Absolutely," she answers in a way that's very unconvincing. She strikes me as one of those women who doesn't have a shred of actual tough in her, but acts tough because she thinks tough is cute, which I find revolting.
Trump asks Katrina to remind him how many times her team has lost. She says only twice (before now), and Trump points out that, compared to Amy, that's a lot. Amy insists that "four times," she has "led teams to success." I'm not sure how she's doing that math, but...okay. Trump says that his problem is that he thinks they were equally poor at this particular task. But Amy, in the past, has been excellent. And Katrina, in the past, has been...Ereka's friend. Moreover, both teams have picked her to go back and forth when they were given the opportunity. "And therefore, Katrina, I have to say...you're fired." God, FINALLY. ["HA-- oh, wait. Yay!" -- Sars] That took a really long time after the moment when she became irreversibly doomed. Amy smiles a neat, cold, greasy little smile that I didn't care for at all. As they leave, Trump says that he thinks Katrina "just wasn't as outstanding" as Amy, and thus, she had to go. She goes out and gets into her cab. Amy heads for the door of S4.
In her exit cab interview, Katrina remains absolutely obsessed with Amy and her relationships with the men, talking about how Amy does too have a thing with Nick, does too, does too! She goes on to advise the men that Amy will try to play all of them. So very tiresome, the jealousy. Find a new gig, Katrina.
week: High-priced real estate. Amy and Nick. "America's favorite couple." Bleh.