As Pamela points out, the transition to leader brings out Kelly's "G.I. Joe" side, and he starts getting very firm about what they're going to do now and who's going to do it and where they're going to stand and the fact that he better be able to bounce a quarter off your bed when you're done and drop and give him twenty. Or something. And nobody even seems horribly offended by the pushiness, although they do at times look puzzled. Considering who some of these guys are, though, he might just be talking too fast. Pamela claims, however, that she doesn't respond well to people who are "authoritative." Eh. You were pretty "authoritative" last week, Miss Take Off Your Tie, so you might want to watch it with that. Kelly agrees in an interview that his experience in the military did indeed teach him a lot about leading. Military snare drums appropriately back him up as he talks about how, once a decision is made, he expects everyone to "pick up their weight and execute." (Not that kind of "execute." What kind of a show do you think this is?)
Concerned about the disadvantage they'll be at if they try to sell on the street -- because of all the lessons learned last season about the women who sell themselves along with the product -- Mosaic turns its attention to distributors, thinking they'll go for a few huge sales rather than, as Kevin puts it, a "street fight" in which they feel like they're doomed by their small breasts. "Guys will buy stupid stuff if they see pretty women," he says straightforwardly. Heh. I think I like Kevin. Kelly decides to break the group into a "sales team" and a "flavor selection team." Snerk. It's not so much that he breaks up the work, it's that he has to call the second group the "flavor selection team." They should have t-shirts. I would totally wear a shirt that said, "Kiss Me, I'm Part Of The Flavor Selection Team." Kelly leaves Wes in charge of sales, with Raj, Kevin, and John, and he takes the rest with him. The non-Flavor-Selection-Team members depart S5 for Ciao Bella.
The Comedic Clarinet of Unending Searches for Consensus moan-honks in the background as the women once again find themselves paralyzed by everyone's unwillingness to do anything at any time that anyone else might disagree with. Jennifer C. thinks that they should have a discussion of what they think the "key factors" are. They agree to go around the group and have everyone say what they think they have to offer in the task. Merciful heavens, people. No wonder it takes you so damn long to do anything. Ivana wants to "break it down" for them, so she shows them a diagram. Yes, a diagram. And it indicates that sales is made up of price and quantity. The "driver" for price is the product, and the "drivers" for quantity are distribution and promotion. Welcome to your first week of business school, I assume. I think this is from a filmstrip. Jennifer M. interviews about how Ivana had this big analysis and all these complicated "equations and models," and I certainly hope that Ivana did something much, much more complicated than the formula she just presented, because otherwise, Jennifer is much too thrown off her game by something that only takes up about four lines on a legal pad. At about this point, Maria says that she thinks Ivana is "evolving" as the leader, so she thinks Ivana should be the PM. Ivana accepts, and she takes the opportunity for a shot at Baldford by promising to be "more collaborative." She must mean more collaborative than Baldford, because she can't possibly mean more collaborative than the team has been to this point, because if they get any more collaborative than they already are, they're not going to be able to go to the bathroom without agreeing in advance whether to go number one or number two. Ivana claims in an interview that Baldford "ruled as a bully," and she vowed to be different. Which is, of course, what everyone says before she figures out that bullies are the only people who can herd eight other maroons without everything falling to pieces. Ivana says it was important to "listen to everyone's input." Snore. She badly needs to abandon the false belief that everyone has equally worthy input. Some people are stupid. Identify them. Tell them not to talk anymore. It's a very good way to "streamline your process," to use language that people on this show might understand. As the women sit around and fondle everyone's ideas, Baldford voices over that Ivana's style has "too much of the velvet glove and not enough iron fist." I hate to find myself agreeing with him, but I sort of do. "Too much input paralyzes you," he adds, and I definitely agree with that. Especially when it's stupid input.
“ It's the kind of thing a guy does to show off -- just to prove he's that important, he can cut off a lady he called and he bothered, just because he doesn't think she's going to buy. 'I am too important to spend time talking to you -- [flip].' ”
Ciao Bella. Vast amount of ice cream are dropped into vats in footage that should probably make me resent Big Food, but really just make me hungry. Mosaic arrives at the facility and meets with one of the production managers. Of course, in order to get their tour, they all have to wear white coats and little caps over their hair, because nobody wants anything unexpected in their dish of Rocky Road. They tour the tanks and such, and Pamela starts to ask questions. About the tanks, about the temperatures, and generally about how to make ice cream. Andy interviews that Pamela decided to do the "dime tour" and ask ice cream questions while they were badly needing to get out of there as soon as possible. I suspect she has a theory either that she's going to act interested and befriend this production guy and he's going to tell her something interesting, or that holistically, understanding ice cream will help her do better in the task. In other words, I don't think she's just distracted and flaky and asking ice-cream questions for the sake of doing it. I think she's just trying too hard. Remember the bit last year about understanding the customer, when they were selling the water? Anyway. Off in the corner, Andy and Chris tut-tut over what a fool Pamela is, and congratulate themselves on understanding that it's "a sales task." I don't like either of them. Kelly interviews that he thinks Pamela "likes to hear herself talk," and then we hear her ask the production guy whether he has any "high-level lessons learned" to share from the ice-cream business. See? I think that, foolish as it probably was, was what she was going for. "I don't know that there are any, really," he says. So...so much for panning for gold among the production managers. All that setup and no payoff. Too bad.
The Trump Motto of the Week is "Get Organized." For some reason, we're watching Trump and the Pink Tie of Moguldom show off an apartment he promises is in "fantastic shape." And then, apropos of nothing, he interviews that lack of organization "drives [him] crazy." "Ultimately," he says, "lack of organization is lack of leadership." He tells the Apartment-Seers that the building is ahead of schedule and under budget. So no one has to die. Because if it were otherwise, you know that someone would. We see some shots of people eating ice cream, which can mean only one thing.
That's right, it's a transition. We're back in S5, watching Wes try to hustle an as-yet-undetermined ice cream flavor over the phone. The sales team -- including Raj and his cane -- rattles around while Wes tries to work his "magic." Wes lies to the customer on the phone by promising that while they don't know the name of it, the ice cream has been tested and that "the focus groups really loved it." I have no idea why it apparently doesn't occur to anyone that this is unethical, seriously. This is more than puffery; it's trying to get people to spend money by assuring them that a product has been tested that hasn't been tested. Anyway, Wes interviews about being picked for the sales team because Kelly has confidence in him and so forth. Nevertheless, he's turned down on the phone. And then it appears that he hangs up on a perfectly nice woman, slamming his phone shut in the middle of her sentence, which is just so charming. It's the kind of thing a guy does to show off -- just to prove he's that important, he can cut off a lady he called and he bothered, just because he doesn't think she's going to buy. "I am too important to spend time talking to you -- [flip]." That's just a flat-out asshole maneuver. Never as impressive to anyone else as it is in the mind of the person who does it.
|
||||
Mid-quality business funk carries us to Ciao Bella, where Apex is now arriving. They meet in a conference room, where they enter into a stage that Jennifer C. says she would call "team havoc." Just a hint -- before you use the expression, "It's what I would call [blank blank blank]," you should have something at least moderately witty or interesting to put in that box. In the conference room, Ivana gets the team started with the women's favorite activity -- undirected, purposeless brainstorming! She asks them to think about what would be interesting to serve at a restaurant, since they're apparently also thinking about big sales rather than street sales. Maria suggests Bloody Mary ice cream. Greeeat. I'll take mine with extra chunks of celery. Among the brilliant ideas you can see on the white board or hear bandied about in addition to Bloody Mary: Old Bay, Chinese Pineapple Cake, Upside-Down Pineapple Cake, Lobster, Mimosa (spelled "memosa"), Batter, Ricotta, Rice, Cotton Candy, Fried Twinkies, Coconut, Starfruit, Red Bear, Cranberry Scones, Buttermilk Biscuit, Fried Chicken, Peppers, Ding Dongs, Tiramisu, Baklava, Citron Tonic, "Licor," White Chocolate, Peach B, Candy Hearts, Cannoli ["spelled 'canolli' on the board, if I recall correctly -- idiots" -- Sars]...and most of those just plain suck. Buttermilk Biscuit ice cream? Fried chicken? I realize that "no idea is stupid" is the idea behind brainstorming, but some ideas are stupid, and we don't have all day, and yuck, your brain should not come up with fried chicken ice cream, even during a storm. Stacie points out that Ivana never provided any structure to the madness. Ivana does, however, suggest "Shortcake." She's an awesome leader. The clock on the wall is shown to indicate just how pokey they're being about all this. "Poke, poke, poke," says Time.
In its conference room, the Mosaic Flavor Selection Team calls the sales team on the Space Communicator. The FST breaks the news that it's going to be at least fourteen hours from when they settle on the flavor to when they get the ice cream, and the further news that they have no idea yet what the flavor is going to be. "Drop a chocolate bar in the vanilla ice cream and call it a day," Kevin urges. And I agree. "A candy bar, a donut, something," Kevin says. As he explains in an interview, after he used the "donut" word, people started to fixate on that. The FST goes and meets with the chef, who tells them that the best way to make donut ice cream in a short period of time would be to...well, go and buy some donuts. (That's why you use experts, people.) They realize that this will be an added cost, because their other option is to just use ingredients that the place has on hand, which apparently won't cost anything. They figure out that this will require about $150 to $200 in donuts, so it will take a chunk out of the profits. Chris makes a phone call about ordering 400 donuts, but when the person is too slow on the phone, Chris first rudely chastises him for pausing to take an order at the counter when Chris's order will be worth so much more, and then finds that when he calls -- at about 3:15 in the afternoon, it appears -- they don't have a huge stockpile of fresh donuts. Which, in the afternoon�I mean, why would they? In case someone wants 400 donuts at 3:15 in the afternoon? You could throw out a lot of stale donuts waiting for that to happen. As it turns out, Mosaic needed so many donuts that they aren't able to get them all in one place, and Pamela learns at 3:35 PM that they need the donuts by 4:00 to start production. And you know what that means -- field trip!
“ If you really believe that you're going to make your big money by going around to visit restaurants and distributors, then not only does it make sense to consider hiring less-skilled people to do the street sales while you do the heavy lifting, you are a fool and a half if you don't at least think of it, investigate it, and find out what it would cost. ”
The Mosaic van speeds down the road in search of donuts. They leap out of the van at a Dunkin Donuts -- "like the A-Team," as Pamela observes -- and run inside. They demand every donut in the store. Money is thrown, and bags of donuts are brought out successfully. No donut shop employees are harmed. "Kids were cryin' 'cause we took all the donuts," Chris says proudly. Well, yes, that would be a moment for the scrapbook: "Here's a picture of me, and there's the child I brought to tears." At a second Dunkin Donuts, they hop out again and raid the donut supply again. "Fourteen minutes," Chris voices over as we watch them load up the van. "Fourteen minutes, we've got over three hundred donuts, everything they had. We cleaned out two stores within a 1.8-mile radius from where we were." They head back toward Ciao Bella, loaded down with bags of donuts. Everywhere, small children weep. Somewhere, Donald Trump is laughing.
In the Apex meeting, I hear somebody say something about "margarita," and that momentarily distracts me, but then someone brings up, "What about donut flavor?" Ivana rolls her eyes and makes a face, sucking on her can of Red Bull. I certainly hope someone suggested Red Bull ice cream. "Oh, we can't do that," someone says of the donut idea. Heh. They're starting to run into time constraints, and when Maria mentions Red Velvet Cake, they all take an interest. Even Baldford has something nice to say about it, and he almost never has anything nice to say about any idea that isn't his and doesn't involve nudity. When they tell the Ciao Bella head honcho of their choice, Baldford jumps up and tries to force the CEO to say he's all excited about making Red Velvet ice cream, which is not going to happen. He confirms that they have all the ingredients the team is talking about in house, so they won't need to buy anything. Baldford is still wearing his hair cap, which is kind of ironic if you think about it. (Because he's...well, never mind.) As Jennifer C. is being interviewed outside Ciao Bella about how much time they wasted, she looks over and sees Mosaic pulling up in the van, bringing donuts. She notes that they seem to have their act together, so that's a problem. "I have a feeling that Mosaic is kicking our ass right now in such a big way it's not even funny," she says.
Now that Apex has its ice cream planned, they set out to sell it, and Elizabeth shares the insight that "our target audience is the chef of a restaurant." What is this, an acting exercise? What's my motivation? Oh, right. Same as always -- hating. Maria tells someone on the phone that tomorrow only, they're offering a "limited edition gelato called Red Velvet." The annoying thing is that all the women are trying to make calls from the same room, so you can't even hear yourself think. There's no way I could function in that environment. Stacie decides to explore the idea of hiring temps to do some of the legwork for them, so she calls an agency to check the costs. When the other women note that she's crawled under the desk to make these phone calls, they are alarmed. "Stacie, what are you doing?" Ivana demands to know. Stacie announces that she can get five temps for tomorrow. Elizabeth looks around like that is the stupidest thing she ever heard. Ivana similarly acts like Stacie just suggested live human sacrifice as a promotional concept. Listen up, morons. You could probably get a low-end, unskilled temp for about $15 an hour. If you assume you want to get five temps to cover the heavy hours of street sales, say 12:00-4:00, that would be $60 a person, or a total of $300. If you really believe that you're going to make your big money by going around to visit restaurants and distributors, then not only does it make sense to consider hiring less-skilled people to do the street sales while you do the heavy lifting, you are a fool and a half if you don't at least think of it, investigate it, and find out what it would cost. In fact, Carolyn ripped the teams at Planet Hollywood last season for exactly this -- for not realizing that you don't plunk your team down on the sidewalk handing out coupons if there are management tasks they could be doing. And if the rest of these women wonder why Stacie didn't announce to all of them that she was about to do this, it's probably because they treat her like an idiot every time she opens her mouth, and she wanted to make sure that she had a firm proposal in hand before she brought it up, hoping that maybe they would actually listen if she could show them math. There's really nothing wrong or wacky about the idea of hiring temps. It may not be the right thing to do if you can't get the distributor meetings set up, but she's right on the button to at least find out.
“ Ah, greed and philanthropy: the Goofus and Gallant of the Family of Ulterior Motives. ”
In an interview, Ivana calls Stacie a "loose cannon." Eh. Better that than a dim bulb. "She needs adult supervision," Ivana adds. Insert obvious punch line along the lines of, "Apparently, Ivana will be needing an independent contractor for that."
Night. Mosaic's FST returns to S5, and it meets with the sales team. Raj wants to know if the ice cream tastes good. "You could put dog feces in that ice cream and it's going to taste good," Pamela comes back. Um. True? Crude? Both, I think. The FST asks how the sales team did, and the sales team is forced to break the news that it could have made the same progress by hanging upside-down in the closet singing "Waltzing Matilda" all day. Kelly interviews that this was very disappointing to him, and "lowered Wes's value" in his eyes. Wes tells the team in S5 that he isn't sure that the whole restaurant thing is even worthwhile, given the trouble they've had rustling up any interest. Raj confirms in his interview that all of Wes's efforts came to completely no result. In the suite, he advocates just selling on the street and forgetting all the tricky stuff. Andy comes up with the idea of choosing a charity and donating a part of the proceeds, saying that it will motivate more people to buy. Ah, greed and philanthropy: the Goofus and Gallant of the Family of Ulterior Motives. They start talking about charities, and Kevin says, "I'm a Leukemia Society guy, unless you guys have other charities..." Everyone nods, and Kevin says, "My brother had it, so." There's a pause. Wes does the not-sure-what-to-say routine, and finally says, "Did he make it?" "Yeah, we did a bone marrow transplant," Kevin says. Wes's eyes widen. "He was supposed to die," Kevin adds simply. Wes interviews that Kevin's brother had a long battle with this particular disease, and then in a moment that really made me laugh, Wes says, "So it's even extra motivation and real-life motivation, for Kevin." I love how the opportunity to help a charity wasn't motivation for anyone else. I mean, as Wes was saying that, I thought he was winding up to say it inspired all of them, and then...not.
The guys discuss a location for street sales, and they quickly agree that the answer begins and ends with Times Square. Chris adds that if they keep the two carts they're apparently going to have together, then people won't have to queue up in Times Square, which is never good. When I was in New York in August, I stayed in Times Square, and I have to say, that's the only place I've ever been where you can be walking down the sidewalk, and you just have to stop walking, just like running into highway traffic. It's the only sidewalk I know that actually has traffic jams where it's literally stop-and-go, and not because you're stopping at the corner. Just because you're trapped in the throng. Anyway, they say that the carts will pull up at 7:15 -- yeah, in the morning -- to start selling ice cream. Oy. "Just go out there and hustle the stuff," Raj says.
Trump tries to tell the women that they could have looked good without selling in a way that was trashy. And then he gives a little lecture about how he takes criticism about how there should be no sex in the Boardroom, blah dee blah, and how there is anyway, blah dee blah. But enough about you, Trump, because no one cares about the squabbles between you and the business school professors. Ivana says she didn't want to sell ice cream by selling themselves, and Carolyn points out that they could have done something else to attract interest -- balloons, a clown, something. "You did nothing," she says. Of course, her two points are kind of running counter to each other. On one hand, she's saying, "Just scoop ice cream," and on the other, she's saying, "Do something other than scoop ice cream." I just think she doesn't like them, and I doubt anything they did would have made her happy. Me, neither.
Trump asks Baldford how Ivana did as PM. Trump asks if she was "average," and Baldford will buy that. Trump points out that Baldford can be a little tough, because he's exempt. Baldford laughs, and then Trump says, "He's the only one in the room not nervous, is that right?" Baldford says, "I'll be honest with you -- I think I performed up to my abilities on this task. I'd be willing to waive my exemption." Carolyn makes a face like, "You have got to be fucking kidding me." "Okay. I'm going to accept that," Trump says, seizing the moment. "That means you may lose. Are you willing to do that?" "That's fine," Baldford says. "[Baldford], I think it's stupid what you're saying. So what I'm going to do is I'm going to accept it, and you may get fired tonight." They move on. Now there was a bonehead maneuver if ever there was one.
Trump asks Jennifer M. how she felt about how Ivana did as PM. She says that Ivana "could have been more decisive." "So, not great," Trump says. "Not great," she agrees. Asked what she thought, Sandy says that the carts were out of communication for three hours. "I would have known where my people were at all times." "It was Stacie's fault," Ivana says in a very unbusinesslike and bitchy manner. "She gave us incorrect information." She goes on to explain about 42nd and 7th versus 42nd and Broadway, and Maria's nodding all, "Damn, and I walked ten blocks, too." They all start talking over each other, and George breaks in with, "Hold it, hold it. You're saying 42nd and Broadway, 42nd and 7th -- it's half a block apart! You couldn't see them?" Carolyn shakes her head, apologizing in her head to suffragettes past.
“ Ivana whispers to Baldford, 'You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to say how you performed on this task.' And after all, she controls who gets fired, right? Uh, right? ”
Trump asks Maria what she thinks of Ivana's leadership. Maria thinks that Ivana could have been stronger. He then asks Stacie about what she, as a restaurant owner, thinks of the job Ivana did. Stacie earns forty points with me for using the actual, real word "disorganized" in describing Ivana's approach. Go figure! "I don't feel like she really took control of the team," Stacie says. Ivana, who apparently didn't see Stacie practically all day, insists that Stacie "required a lot of supervision." Eh? Ivana tries to tell the story about Stacie calling for the temps, but she doesn't know how to tell it properly, so she never gets to the point. Stacie, instead, breaks in by pointing out that she sold more than anyone on the team. Everyone starts in all pick-a-little talk-a-little about how she did not EITHER sell the most. Sandy finally says that they "can't pinpoint" who sold the most, but they're all just sure that it couldn't have been Stacie. Trump asks Sandy whether Stacie was more of a liability than Ivana. "Absolutely, 100 percent," Sandy says, striking fear into the hearts of everyone who ever was tormented by precisely that type of cheerleader. "I think you're very smart, Sandy. If I was Ivana, I would not pick you," Trump says. Totally failing to recognize the backhanded compliment, Sandy says, "Thank you."
Stacie tries to defend herself, explaining about the fact that she's become the chosen target, partly because she's "an independent person." Trump reminds her that you can't choose to be an entirely independent person when you have to work with a team to accomplish certain things. She stares. Trump asks Jennifer M. how she thinks Stacie did with selling, and Jennifer says she did well. "If we were selling ice cream again, I would want her on my team." But who would she want on her team more, Ivana or Stacie? Oh, Ivana. This is such an obvious setup that there's no way it's fooling Trump. "If you were me," Trump asks Jennifer, "who would you fire?" "Based on the history, Stacie," Jennifer says. Sandy proceeds to toss Stacie on the heap of coals, as does every other person on the team except Stacie herself, who puts up Ivana.
Trump now asks Ivana who she wants to bring to the final table, reminding her that Baldford is no longer exempt. She's allowed to bring two or three. She says that she'll bring two. Trump says, "Even though three gives you a better chance of surviving?" At that point, she switches, saying in a clumsily defiant manner that she'll bring three after all. "You're very indecisive, as they were saying," Trump says, having caught her just as I think he intended. She cringes. She should. Ivana announces that she's bringing to the Boardroom Stacie, Jennifer C., and Baldford. Trump returns to how stupid it was for Baldford to give up his protection like that. "You did a really stupid thing," he says. Baldford says it didn't seem stupid at the time, but he allows that now, it sort of does. Trump releases the non-selected back up to the suite, and sends Ivana, Stacie, Jennifer C., and Baldford into the lobby to wait. When they get out there, Ivana whispers to Baldford, "You have nothing to worry about. I'm going to say how you performed on this task." And after all, she controls who gets fired, right? Uh, right? He chuckles. "That was dumb," he says, pretty obviously to himself.
“ Trump asks if he regrets it, and Baldford -- remarkably -- hedges. Trump has said over and over that he thinks it's stupid, and now he wants to know if you regret it. SAY YES. ”
"Why you got me here?" Jennifer asks angrily. "Jen, Jen," Ivana says. "I know. I'm not losing sight. I'm asking questions, and they're valid." Ivana says, right in earshot of Stacie, how they're all going to go in there together, united, and have her fired. That way, they're sure to get their way. "We all have to be on the same page," she says. "The page is still the same," Jennifer says coldly.
In the Boardroom, Trump asks Carolyn for her opinion. She says that she would "lean towards" Ivana for being a poor leader. George says that he would get rid of Stacie, whom he sees as "an oddball" who can't get along with the team. "I still have some strong feelings on this one...let's see what happens," Trump says. He has Robin let them back into the room.
When everyone is seated, Trump says, "[Baldford], you shouldn't be here." Baldford laughs. Trump criticizes him fairly extravagantly for unnecessarily exposing himself to booting, and wonders why. "Because he knows he did a good job," Ivana jumps in. "He's done a great job! I mean...you're so stupid, to have done this," Trump nearly spits. All Baldford can do is agree. Trump asks if he regrets it, and Baldford -- remarkably -- hedges. Trump has said over and over that he thinks it's stupid, and now he wants to know if you regret it. SAY YES. But Baldford doesn't. He kind of stammers all around it. Trump says that probably, Jennifer shouldn't be there either. "I shouldn't, I shouldn't," she says, all waggling her head. Jennifer tries to take credit for a quarter of the profit, presumably the $655 from the vendor she brought to visit. Ivana points out that that wasn't entirely Jennifer's doing, as they had presumably already made contact with that person and other people talked to him at the cart site as well. Trump asks Ivana why she brought Jennifer, and Ivana tries a "well, I had to bring someone" excuse, and that's really not going to work, because she brought three people, which is exactly what Trump says. She brought Jennifer to set up Stacie, and Trump knows it. And he's not happy about it. Trump then refers to Baldford's mistake as "life-threatening." Well, no, but not a smart move, I'll grant you. Baldford starts in: "I'm not here to blow smoke up your ass. I believe in my heart that I kicked ass on this task." At his choice of words, Carolyn visibly blanches. It's not that the word "ass" is so awful; it's that it's not appropriate in a business setting with higher-ups who haven't led the way themselves. He just has bad, bad judgment.
Jenn butts in. "I have something to say." Trump turns to her in disbelief. "You ought to shut up," he offers. "You're probably not going to be chosen in all fairness, I don't know what the hell you keep talking for." Heeee hee. He's such a dorky little billionaire, but sometimes, I really do love him. Trump turns to Stacie. "If you were me, who would you fire?" She offers Ivana again, giving very good reasons about how indecisive Ivana is, and how leaders have to be able to step up and take control of a team. Ivana just turns to Stacie and says, "You're more of a liability than an asset to the team."
Trump turns to Baldford and promises to "speak to [him] honestly." "Don't you think I should fire you?" he asks. Baldford says no, but Trump continues, saying that his mistake was broader and more fundamental than ice cream sales techniques. This time, Trump calls giving up the exemption a "life-altering mistake." And, again, "stupid." Trump asks Ivana if she thinks what Baldford did was stupid. She laughs a little too hard, saying she wouldn't have done it. Trump turns back to Baldford and tells him he thinks Baldford is the best candidate in the room. Jennifer starts waggling her head again and making big gestures, and blurts out, "That's insane." "Why do you keep talking?" Trump demands to know. "I'm in the middle of saying something, and then you blurt out...whatever the hell you blurt that nobody ever knows what it means anyway." You know, it's that kind of smackdown that's missing from most of your better reality shows. I've never seen a freaked-out nutjob I wouldn't enjoy seeing Donald Trump rip into in his inimitable fashion. "I'll assess that, and I won't do it again," she says. The answer you were looking for, dear, was, "I'm sorry." Actually, "I'm sorry, sir." Just FYI. Trump returns to his pro-Baldford rant as a general matter. He says that Ivana was "a lousy leader" and disorganized. He thinks Stacie is "hated by all, is not respected by anybody," and Jennifer needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.
But the biggest problem, Trump explains, is that Baldford made an impulsive decision at a critical moment. "Frankly, if you were running a company and you made that kind of a decision, you'd destroy that company. Instantaneously. Bradford, you're fired." Whoa. What? Hoo-boy. Baldford had started to figure out that this might happen, so he's not entirely shocked, but Ivana still thought she was getting rid of Stacie or that it was going to be her, so she starts to rock in her chair, saying, "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God." That's confidence-inspiring, that reaction. They all leave. Ivana takes way too long, by the way, and spends too long sitting there all stunned when she should be getting up and out. In the lobby, Baldford notes that he doesn't even have a bag. Because he doesn't have to pack shit! Mmm, justice. Smells like chicken.
In the Boardroom, Trump says that he felt he had "no choice but to do that." He still think Baldford was overall the best candidate, but you can't make a decision like that. "I'm very happy with that decision," Trump says. "I am as well," Caro-LYN adds.
Bagless Baldford walks out and gets into his cab. He drives away, and Stacie, Jennifer C., and Ivana return to S5. Well, that will be interesting.
In his cab, Baldford claims that he gave up his exemption because it was "the right thing to do," and adds, "A general goes into battle with his army." Can I ask who died and made him a general and the women the army? See, that's where you see that sexist bullshit again. He needs to go away. Oh, look. There he goes. What a relief.
week: Shock and awe. A celebrity. Maybe it's Carson Daly. Or a celebrity and Carson Daly. Something with $49,345 in it. And rule-breaking!