Toying With Disaster

There is more skyline-ness as Trump claims that they will work on "grueling" tasks, as some guy looks out the window of his taxi. That guy is dead meat. And..."grueling"? Are we moving to coal mining this year? I hope so. Trump talks about how this season will put the candidates in contact with "some of the biggest companies in the world," like Mattel, Pepsi, Levi's, Proctor & Gamble, and "many others." "These candidates will be in the big leagues," he says emphatically. The Moe B. lands, with Trump supposedly aboard, because then he supposedly deplanes, talking about that "yooge salary," and how "they too can become a billionaire." He did that last time, too. And then we pull back from the Moe B. and watch Trump ride off in his limo. Planes, cars...what will those rich guys think of ?

Central Park, from above, and then...whoosh! We spin around as Trump talks about his love of New York City and a guy who looks like the Missing and Rapidly Aging Culkin Brother goes skulking down a hallway. He looks kind of suspicious. And then, Dead Meat Guy! One of the Leggy Blondes! Leggy Brunette! Jesse Bradford's cousin! Trump says that one of them will win "the dream job of a lifetime." Provided that your dream is to shill for Donald Trump until you're too busy to date the future star of The Bachelorette, even if you're lucky enough to meet her. Tragic, really. "Who will succeed?" Trump bellows. "Who will fail? And who will be...the Apprentice?" That's two dramatic intonings of "the Apprentice," and the show's been on for about three minutes. Somebody's getting a little carried away with having the star name-check the show.

Credits. You know, I'm not thrilled that they copied so much of last year's opening Trumpologue, but I'm happy they were smart enough not to touch the theme song or the Woo-like shots of Trump. Because those credits would almost allow you to entertain (briefly) the notion that Donald Trump is cool.

So you can follow along in the credits, but one of the Leggy Blondes is Sandy. (She was actually Leggy Blonde II.) Leggy Brunette is Jennifer. Leggy Blonde I is Elizabeth. Unsupervised Subway Twelve-Year-Old is Stacy. Green Jacket Lady is Maria. Asian Woman With Carry-On is Ivana. (Hee.) Leggy Blonde III is another Jennifer. Frizzy-Haired Big Glasses Lady is Stacie. Very Tall Mean Lady With Cell Phone is Pamela. Dork in Bow Tie is Raj. Bulky Ethan Hawke is John. Bald Guy is Bradford. Lost Oversized Culkin is Wes. African-American Guy In Shades is Kevin. Guy Shot From Far Away In Case He's Ugly is Chris. Beady-Eyed Guy is Kelly. Not Jesse Bradford is Andy. And Dead Meat Guy is Rob. And it's not personal...it's business. Come to think of it, if you're a candidate and you're reading this, that would be a good thing to remember, lest you lose your marbles and write me a stream of largely illiterate, profanity-laden hate mail.

As Robin tells them all that they can go in to see Trump, take note of the fact that essentially all of the men are dressed in businesswear, while about half of the women are wearing what are obviously party dresses. The tube dress, in particular, is a nice touch. Because that does, I will admit, scream of professionalism. It's just a different profession. We cut to an interview with John, who immediately reminds me of Boyfriend Bill. He's a "marketing director," and he talks about how the situation was anxiety-producing, but you're also "pumped up." The statute of limitations on "pumped up" has officially run out. It just happened right there. If you were listening, you may have heard the "Ding!"

Everyone walks into the Boardroom, where Carolyn and George are already waiting. They all settle in and wait. And then Trump comes in, sits down, and compliments everyone on how good-looking they are. Well, at least he's narrowed it down to their most promising quality. He welcomes the candidates to New York, which he assures them is "mean" and "vicious." I actually don't find New York all that mean or vicious. I have a theory of New York which is very complicated, which I formulated the last time I was there, in which I posit that New York is full of so many people that if you live there, you would never get any work done if you relied on judging people by outward appearances, which is inefficient. Thus, New York has been forced to fall back on attempting to judge people on merit, which is why no one cares whether you dress like all of the Village People at the same time, but they will shoot you where you stand if you don't move when the Walk/Don't Walk sign changes. I don't think that's vicious. I just think it's practical. ["Amen. We're actually fairly pleasant, most of us. We're just in a damn hurry." -- Sars] We could use a little more of that up here, especially in the winter. Anyway, Trump welcomes them to their interview with him and his "people." He says, "Unless you're not from this world [meaning 'unless you didn't watch last season,' which is the same thing], you know who they are." He first introduces the lovely Carolyn, who has had her hair de-helmeted since last season and looks closer to her actual age and really quite stunning. Trump calls Carolyn "tough" and "nasty" but "actually very nice." He then turns to George, who looks thinner than last year in a way I can't decide whether to think is good or bad news, and says that George is "tough" and "nasty," but "not very nice." Aw. That is so not true, Trump. Quit giving George shit, or he'll ding you in the noggin with a Polident tablet.

Trump comments that the women are all looking pretty cocky because they think they're going to do well, but he reminds them that the women last year only excelled at first, not forever. He says, however, that he wants to see the (tired, oh so tired) gender dynamic play out with a new group, so he's decided to split the teams up boy-girl again. The rules are the same about the competition and the tasks, except that this year, if you're the project manager one week and your team goes to the Boardroom week, you're exempt. It brings up the very real prospect, it seems to me, of something that wasn't really on the table last year, and that's sabotaging your team. If you were the PM last week and you're exempt this week, you might very well sandbag your team if you thought someone you disliked could go. (For instance, consider how badly some of the women wanted to get rid of Tammy last year.) On the other hand, though, it does, as Trump says, create an incentive to step up and be PM. Trump reminds them all that as talented as they are, only one of them can get the job. So there, punks! Several of them smile tightly. He dismisses them, and as they leave, Andy interviews -- while standing to a mighty girly display of purple flowers, I must say -- that he wants to spend a lot of time with Trump, but not in the Boardroom. Where others have professions, by the way, Andy is listed as "Recent Harvard Graduate," and I just want to point out that that is not a profession. That is a status, like "Just Ate Dinner."

Skyline porn. We arrive at the gold-plated Trump Tower, where the candidates make their way into their pretend suite. This year, their pretend suite is Suite 5, instead of Suite 4. It looks an awful lot like Suite 4, though. They all admiringly walk around their new faboo pad, enjoying the cheap-ass furnishings that are really attractive and are carefully designed to have a shelf life precisely as long as they are intended to be on camera. "This is bigger than my dorm room," Andy comments. What, the apartment? Hilarious. Shut it, Harvard. As everyone does introductions, Andy comments on Raj's pants, calling them "on fire," as opposed to "inadvisably pleated." As Raj and Pamela meet, he tells her how intimidating he finds it to talk to a woman who's a lot taller than he is. I hate that so much. Do guys think women aren't bright enough to get the difference between a genuine statement of insecurity and that kind of smirking, condescending bullshit? Because we are. And I know that, even though I'm not tall. "Get used to that feeling," Pamela says with a gregarious smile just because she can, and this is where I just know Sars starts to love her a little bit. He tells her he's going to "wear platform shoes like Joseph Stalin." I didn't even know Joseph Stalin wore platform shoes. Just another similarity between him and Tom Cruise.

They find the champagne, and someone actually says, "Ya-hoo!" Oy. As they all share a toast, Wes says, "I toast to the men dominating the women." Yeah. You know, if he had just been talking about winning, that would be one thing, but there is indeed an especially asshole slant to choosing the word "dominating," and it's not lost on the women. Which is surprising, considering that many things have apparently been lost on the women up to this point, including everything their parents ever taught them about dressing for a job interview. The music deflates, and the women's faces deflate, and Ivana essentially interviews that she's not sure what Wes's deal was with that line, but she didn't appreciate it. He takes a swig right from the bottle (real polite when a bunch of people are sharing, like, way to mark your territory with backwash, Fang), and we are at our first break.

When we return, we come back to Trump Tower, S5, where the men and the women split up to read their envelopes discussing what they have to do . Ivana and Bradford read the letters aloud, and after a lot of unnecessary buildup, the teams learn that each team has to permanently give up one member to the other side. So one dick goes to the chicks, one chick goes to the dicks. Not only that, but that person will be the project manager for the first task. The women all stare at each other, expressing the following thought: "Uh." Bradford suggests to the men that they either essentially vote someone off Testosterone Island, or they put names in a hat and pick that way. Somebody suggests they could start by just asking if anybody wants to switch. Bradford himself winds up volunteering, so there you go. They all shake his hand and send him off. "Sucker!" they think to themselves. "You're going to get such a case of the cooties!" Bradford steps on his own moment by interviewing about what a big stud he was for "stepping up to the plate," blah blah blah. Yeah. And then he throws in some more weak-ass baseball metaphors, and I guess that's his management style: sports metaphors. It's common, but that doesn't make it a good idea.

The morning, the black princess phone rings in S5, and they learn that they're to meet Trump the morning at Toys 'R' Us at 8:00 AM. We see them arriving at the store, where they are gathered and Trump arrives. And Raj, because he's himself, has decided to carry an unnecessary cane. My exhaustion with him only grows more intense. Outside, Trump pulls up, blows off Rona on the phone, and heads inside. He says good morning to the assembled horde, and asks for the team names. Apex! "Sounds good," Trump says. Mosaic! "Mosaic? Wow, that's awful." Trump doesn't know what it is, either. I think he thinks it's Moses' brother. Because I just can't believe...I mean, how studly is "Mar-a-Lago"? Trump asks the members of Mosaic if they all like the team name, and Raj -- showing disloyalty that is not going to endear him to Trump, and thus falling into an obvious trap -- gripes about hating the name. Speaking of things that will not endear Raj to Trump, Trump now says, "What are you carrying the cane for? You look like you have two very good legs to me." Raj has no idea what to say to this, because the answer is, "I think it makes me seem cool and interesting, which I do not know how to accomplish in any other way," which is a very embarrassing thing to admit. "The team likes the name," Pamela says firmly. Trump likes that from her, you can tell, and he comments that it was "very decisive." He asks Pamela how she got to be on the men's team, and she confirms that she stepped up to "take a bullet for the women." Heh. Bradford says he did the same thing, but says he doesn't consider it "taking a bullet," because he thinks he "did all right."

Trump introduces the task by delivering the non-news that they're at the Toys 'R' Us in Times Square. He claims that this is the nation's largest toy store, not that you can historically believe everything he says about the world's largest anything. He talks about the $20 billion a year toy industry, and says that in the first task, each team will develop a new toy for Mattel. "You'll have access to all the Mattel resources you need." I assume this includes the Barbie Dream Drafting Kit. He says that when they're finished, they'll present their toys to various Mattel mucky-mucks. The team that produces the most marketable toy will win. And George and Carolyn will be watching, so don't try anything. Losers? To the Boardroom! Good luck, aspiring corporate weasels.

The teams cab it to Mattel, and when they get there, Pamela starts by telling her team to take their ties off, because nobody at Mattel is wearing a tie. She's probably too pushy by half in the way she says this, particularly this early in the game, but it's a good observation. Her white pants, however? Are not a good idea. There's almost no situation in which I approve of white pants, unless you're a guy graduating from high school with me in 1989, and you're wearing a blue blazer. She opens it up for brainstorming, and John suggests something that sounds kind of like a cross between a squirt gun and one of those baseball caps that holds beer cans that you can drink from out of straws. You know those? Anyway. It's hard to explain, but it's some kind of a water-gun concept, and I think I've seen it in the Harriet Carter catalogue. No one likes it. Wes has some extremely complicated and weird idea about a magnetic fish tank, and I don't even know what he's talking about, which is probably at least part of the reason it sounds to me like incoherent babbling. But not all of the reason. Andy bursts in with his Big Idea, which is: Crustaceans. He just wants to say it over and over and over again. Crustaceans! Crustaceans! Crustaceans! He calls his concept "Crustacean Nation," and says it would be...a crustacean with interchangeable appendages. Or something. So...like, a crab that can have a hook? I don't get it. And there's something with trading cards...it just doesn't hold up, to me, at all. It sounds like...I don't know, SpongeBob TransformerPants? Kevin jumps on board with some kind of a routine about how some of the crustaceans will be good and some will be evil, and...this is officially the worst idea I have ever heard. Somehow, I do not see my little nephews sitting down to reenact the battle of He-Mollusk versus Scalloptor.

Wes, the "Private Wealth Manager," interviews that Rob didn't feel like he was able to contribute to the team as much as some other people. We cut back to the room where John thinks they have "tremendous ideas." As Wes repeats that Rob was "trying to do his part for the team," Rob announces to the team that he thinks that in addition to crustaceans, they could also do an eel that would crawl up on land and grow arms and legs. Apparently feeling like this is a corruption of their otherwise flawless interchangeable-crustacean-appendage concept, the guys all look around miserably like they can't believe somebody invited this guy. An eel? An EEL? Rob interviews that his strategy was trying to contribute as much as he could without getting in the way. Back in the room, Kevin points out that you can't "accessorize the eel" (which is a statement far more gay than naming your team "Mosaic," if you're keeping score at home), and everyone agrees. "We gotta kill the eel!" Wes interjects. And the eel, she is killed. Rob says that he was doing what he thought was best, which was perhaps "to just chill out." Well, really. Once they dis your eel, what can you do?

Apex Corporation. (Or, if you like, "Appex.") Bradford is telling the assembled women that they need something that can be ready to go tomorrow. Elizabeth (I think) offers to write down ideas on a big board while they all brainstorm (although she uses a cutesy "download all of our ideas" expression, including hand gestures that could be some sort of interpretive dance move indicating "rainfall"). Sandy explains in an interview that they all tried to figure out what kind of toy they thought would work well. "The drag queen wardrobe for every young boy!" Ivana suggests energetically. Crickets everywhere: "[Chirp, chirp.]" Elizabeth says, "If a boy, six to eight, had an Easy-Bake Oven, what would that be?" See, I don't think she means literally an Easy-Bake Oven for boys. I think she's asking what's the analogy to a toy that a lot of these women remember playing with. One of the annoying things about this is that it becomes obvious, and it was even more obvious upon watching some of the Extra! Boardroom! Footage! this week, that they were told that they toy was to be for boys ages six to eight, but that's not at all made clear, so it seems at first like they all were just designing for boys because they don't give a crap about girls. Which some of them don't, but still. Bradford says that he "was worried that the women wouldn't be able to put themselves in the shoes of a six-, seven-, and eight-year-old boy." He interviews that he knows what little boys want out of a toy, because he used to be one. A boy, not a toy. Although really, who knows? Bradford shows the women a sketch of what he claims any "normal kid" wants, and I'm not so crazy about his use of the word "normal," but whatever. He's drawn a football helmet on wheels, basically. And in fairness, Pool Boy would play with that. He's not eight, chronologically, but still. Bradford really, really loves his own idea, which mixes the love of sports with the love of cars. It's really not a horrible idea, in many ways. My nephews would play with it, too. And my brother-in-law.

The women, however, are not feeling it. No one actually seems to like this idea except for him. Jennifer M. interviews that she thinks Bradford pushed the football thing because he lacks "intellectual horsepower." Presumably, horsepower of the type that would tell you that My First Drag Queen Ensemble was a good idea. She claims that "kids today" want "a more sophisticated toy." Hahahahahaha. Yeah. You know, my older nephew is within a month of qualifying as a six- to eight-year-old boy, and you know what he likes? Crashing stuff. If it comes apart? Even better. If it comes apart and makes noise? Even better. If it comes apart and makes noise and can be aimed at other people, such as my younger nephew? Even better. "Sophisticated," pfft. Baldford (seriously, I cannot type Bradford reliably, and Baldford is much easier) asks whether they have other ideas, and Stacie says that they have an idea for a car. One of the women describes an idea for a vehicle that would be made up of different parts from tanks and boats and whatever else. "No," Baldford declares. "We're going with the football idea. I'm making an executive decision. That's it." Wow. That'll make you popular. Maria points out to him that kids may or may not have any interest in sports, which is true. But they also may or may not have any interest in being a drag queen, Maria. Baldford repeats that they're doing his idea. He really did act like an ass in that scene. I sympathize, because certainly, groups of women are sometimes subject to this endless discussion/paralysis thing that they seemed to be lolling around in, and it may require somebody to make a call eventually. But I think he would have been better served by compromising to the point where he found an idea that at least someone was enthusiastic about besides him. It's not a good start on a group effort to pronounce literally every other opinion on your team to be of absolutely no importance.

Maria interviews, in her pink sparkle tube top (eye roll), about how Baldford made this decision all on his own. Back in the discussion room, he tells them that he understands how they all would like to have a say, but "it's [his] ass on the line." Well, actually, it's everyone's ass on the line, but...whatever. Maria fantasizes in her interview about getting her hands around his throat. Baldford stares at the women intensely.

This week's Black Screen Motto is "Be Quick But Be Careful." Trump interviews that although he respects quick decision-making, it's also important to make the right decision, so the best thing is a combination -- someone who makes the best decision quickly. The fact that you never could have solved that puzzler is why you are not a mogul. As Apex heads into its meeting with the designers, Stacie interviews that nobody was really all that jazzed about Baldford's football idea, and adds that some of the women had thrown around the idea of a remote-controlled car of some kind. In the meeting, Baldford tells the designers -- one of whom is wearing a remarkable black top with some kind of fireworks display on it, likedid you get that stencil off an old Trans Am? -- about his rolling football helmet, and asks them if they've seen anything like it. The designers tell him, it appears, that they are aware of such a thing, and it's not entirely successful at this point. As Ivana shakes a Magic 8-Ball as if she has no idea what to do with it, Baldford asks about just doing a remote-controlled car where you can interchange the parts. That idea seems to go over a little bit better. And, hey, it sounds like it's close to something the women were thinking of before he forced the football down their throats. Remarkable. Baldford is a little too eager to have the designers claim to be "excited," and then he interviews that his original idea was the sports guy, but when the designers said that they didn't think it would fly, he backed off. Of course, having a group of eight women tell him they thought it sucked did absolutely nothing to dissuade him. In the meeting, he asks the designers if they can have it ready for tomorrow. They say yes, but comment that they'll be "pulling an all-nighter." Baldford claims that he "reconsidered [his] management style" along about here, thinking that it might be better to be less of a dictator. "You can't always be a dictator," he says. That is true. And I find it just as sad as he obviously does. Jennifer C. says that she thinks the remote-controlled car could be "a phenomenon."

Very heavy music bonks on the soundtrack. The moon is in the sky. Morning arrives. At Mattel, Mosaic meets with the designers in the workshop and sees the mock-up of the crustacean thingy. They all love the way the snails and whatnot look so "scary." Yes...terrifying. Assuming you're a sand mite. Apex then meets with its designers, and sees its remote-controlled car, which does indeed have interchangeable parts. Apparently, they're ideally supposed to have four cars and there are only two, but other than that, everything's going well. Baldford talks about how much the design team rocked to be able to put those prototypes together 13 hours after they came up with that idea, and I agree. I love toy geeks. The team thanks its designers, and Baldford says that just when he was feeling great, he realized that it was time to go into the focus groups.

Apex walks into the area where they'll watch a bunch of kids through some glass while the kids either play or don't play with their toy. As the kids settle into the beanbag chairs, George looks on with a wide grin. Jennifer C. interviews that it was very intimidating being in that room with George and the design guy, watching the kids pass judgment. The demonstrator introduces the four boys in the focus group to the "Metamorphor," which is what Apex is calling its car. The boys react with a lot of enthusiasm to the idea of customizing their cars. They dig it, although that's mostly because it's a remote-controlled car. Baldford talks about how great they were when they got the toy, blah blah blah. He thinks it reminds him of how he probably would have acted, so apparently, the kids were kind of controlling assholes about it. One of them gets a wheel to come off the car, so that's going to be a plus. Elizabeth interviews that they will win or lose, "dependent on the kids." Thank you, Elizabeth.

At Mosaic, we learn that one of their "crustaceans" is an "undersea cheetah" that is "half-fish, half-cheetah." Because you know what's big with kids today? Centaurs. John recaps yet again that they had to go to a focus group, blah blah blah. "That was going to be where this task was won or lost," he says. The demonstrator brings the kids up to look at Crustacean Nation, which really is what they're calling it. One kid, whom Pamela laughingly refers to as "surly" in a voice-over, sits back in his beanbag chair all, "Carnation what?" He looks bored, and she agrees, saying that he just wasn't having any of it. And you can tell from the way that the honking bassoon in the background is going, "Honk, honk, honk, honk, he, hates, this, toy." "He was kind of wise to the whole thing," she says, and you can tell from that comment that it isn't that Pamela hates kids, because I think she sort of respected that kid for being onto the whole deal and not being impressed. I think Pamela was secretly thinking, "Now that is my kind of child." None of the kids are actually very impressed, and one of them even comments on the logistics, saying, "They fall apart too easily." For one thing, these toys require kids to do a lot more playing themselves -- for this to work as planned, kids would play with them like superheroes, which really requires the kids to be with friends and have some time to plan, so I don't think this idea is as hopeless as it looks from this display of junior ennui.

As Mosaic watches the kids, Pamela remarks about one of them, "Who cut that child's hair?" And...it's unkind to pick on ugly children or -- in this case -- attractive children with ugly hair, but...she's right, too. What she isn't displaying, however, is very good judgment, especially when she repeats, "My God, what happened?" And then even more when she adds, "He looks like a mini-Dumb and Dumber." Which...again, bad judgment, and again, kind of true. Carolyn looks on with obvious surprise and dismay. It's not so much that you can't insult children in front of Mattel executives, to me, as it is that you have to have a sense of appropriateness, and while a stray remark would probably be chuckled at by everyone, you can't pile on to a child without risking really pissing somebody off, and I think it's that failure to read the room that Carolyn is concerned about. Chris interviews that he was surprised by Pamela's behavior when they were "trying to make an impression." And presumably the impression they were trying to make was not, "Ugh, children." See, in the toy business, you have to be nice to all kids, because even the ugly ones have birthdays. John interviews that once they got out of the focus group, it was "out of [their] hands" and into the hands of Mattel executives.

Skyline porn. We return to a conference room where Apex is hanging out, waiting for a decision. As Jennifer M. explains, they were all sitting around when Stacie picked up a Magic 8-Ball and started "trying to get everyone else's attention in the room." Shame on her! The rest of them and their tube dresses would never! What follows is a very weird scene in which Stacie says a lot of things that don't make any sense, but nothing that's particularly wacky, either. It doesn't hang together very well, and although she comes off as kind of a goofball, the reaction of the other women -- who behave as if she stripped naked and started dancing around the room with paper clips on her nipples -- seems mightily overblown. Sandy bitchily interviews that they were all obviously thinking that Stacie had to be fired straightaway. Well, totally. God forbid you tolerate a quirky personality. "She buckled under pressure, and we can-not let that happen again," she says in a chipper, obnoxious, cheerleader's voice.

In his limo, we see Trump tell Rona to "cancel that meeting" because he's heading for Mattel. Wow, it's a good thing they had the camera there when he spontaneously decided to change his schedule like that and drop by the task. I swear, this show has the luckiest camera guys ever. Both teams file into a conference room where the Mattel mucky-mucks are waiting to deliver the verdict. As they're getting ready to do so, Trump is making his way into the building and up to the room. The design guy praises all the creativity they showed, and then Donald arrives in time to hear the outcome on the task. The design guys say that the Mosaic crustaceans were good, but "a little close to other things" that are already out there. And it's also not "wacky." No, he really says that. "Wacky." Hey, you guys, be more wacky! Not wacky enough! No, wackier! He also thinks they needed to tell the kids how to play with the figures more. Pfft. That's what I meant -- kids will figure that out, it just wasn't the right setting. The Metamorphor, on the other hand, he feels was a big hit, and the kids loved it. He feels that the "clear-cut winner" was Apex and the remote-controlled car. Apex jumps up and down. Mosaic looks grim. Trump then announces that Apex will be dining in the Trumpartment with him and Melania. He promises "a really great dinner." Baldford will be safe if Apex is in the Boardroom week. As for Mosaic? Boardroom. In fact, Trump claims to have "really missed saying" that people are fired, which seems...obvious, to the point of being stale. The men look grumpy.

Later, Apex converges on the Trumpartment. Ivana says, as they get on the elevator, "We're going to have dinner with Trumpy!" Trumpy? TRUMPY? And yes, there was a monster in a Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode who was named Trumpy, and unless she thinks that Donald looks a little bit like a biped furry anteater, Ivana is barking up the wrong tree. The Trumpartment is still really, really gilded and really, really tacky. I sort of have nothing to add. Ivana says, "I feel like I can't touch anything." That's probably because there are still little tags attached to everything of value in the apartment that say, "Not To Be Touched By Ivana, By Order of the Trump Guard." Melania emerges, showing off her boobs in a blue halter number, and Baldford talks about how Melania is "a fantastic hostess," and "how a royal person would act." By which he means, "Nice ya-yas." Well, he might mean, "Wow, nice ya-yas for a classy chick," but that's as much as I'm giving him. He talks about how "gracious" she was, and then Donald appears to join them for dinner. "So far, so good, right?" Donald asks, and they're all like, "Um, yeah!" Because what choice do they have? "Good, except that your fiance is too shiny." Trump makes a lame joke about how Baldford did a good job in spite of being a man, like, ha ha ha. Baldford's all happy about being king of the chicks.

Saxophone music carries us from dinner at the Trumpartment to Mosaic cooling its heels in S5. Raj finds all of this "humiliating." I secretly suspect he finds it especially humiliating losing to girls, which is why I'm extra-happy it happened. John complainterviews that the girls are getting to know Trump "on a more personal level" (as if Trump has a more personal level), which he thinks is really important. He would give up all the other rewards for time with Trump. I don't know, dude. It didn't do much for Nick. Raj serves the boys something disgusting for dinner. I don't even know what that is, but it doesn't look good.

And we cut directly from that to some shrimp cocktail at the Trumpartment. Mmm, shrimp cocktail. Jennifer C. starts openly eyeing Donald -- dude, his fiance may not be a rocket scientist, but what she lacks in sharpness, she makes up for in proximity, because she is right there -- as she voices over that as they sat at this "fabulous table," she carefully watched Donald, doing exactly as he did. She gives Trump a bizarre, coquettish sex-eye as she voices over that she wanted to be "as professional as [she] could." Not going too well for her, I have to say, the being professional. And...nice halter in her interview. Do the women on this show even own entire shirts? Anyway, everyone goes on to enjoy a lovely entre, and as the jazzy music swells and we slide away from the Trumpartment window, we hear Donald say, "So what's with the guy with the cane? What's that all about?" Hee. Indeed, Trump. Indeed.