Motel 666

Previously on "Smarts" Is A Relative Term: An entire episode that this episode takes about five minutes to recap. Suffice it to say that it ended with the departure of Todd, who graduated magna cum knob from the School of Blah. I will not miss him.

When we return, it turns out that this show is taking place in New York. I know! I was surprised, too. We return to the kitchen of the Love Palace, where there is a lot of discussion about who's likely to be sent home as between Todd and Danny, assumed to be the two most likely candidates since Alex is just kind of drippy and skinny and not all that offensive. YET. Bren is telling Michael and Brian that he thinks Danny will go, given all the time he was having to put in defending himself in the Boardroom. Bren adds in a voice-over that he thinks Danny is a "loose cannon" (DRINK!) who can't respect authority. Of course, when the authority is Todd, what's to respect, really? His hair? Bren and his crooked tie tell us that they simply don't see Danny as a CEO. Oh, he's so going to wish he'd had a mirror before that interview. You don't want your tie to point to 1:30 and 7:30.

The door to the suite opens, and...what do you know? It's Alex and Danny. There is a lot of noisy welcoming of people back to the L-Pal, just like everyone would do if they totally cared. Danny opines that his team underestimated him, although he acknowledges that Trump did characterize him as "a disaster." Still, he thinks that Trump likes him. No, really, that's what he says: "I think that Mr. Trump likes me." Oh, and he calls him "the Donald" in saying that Trump can totally relate to what it's like to be a socially inept guitar-playing hippie. Well, sure. That's what Trump did before real estate. Still, Danny acknowledges that "disaster" is not necessarily the impression he was looking to make right off the bat. "Going forward, I've got to really prove myself more," he says. "More"? Did he see himself last week?

The morning, a group of birds flees in terror as another of Trump's redevelopment projects threatens another piece of their critical habitat. In the L-Pal, others are sleeping while Danny pedals on the oddly apropos Exercise Bike To Nowhere. The Rhonaphone rings, and Kristen goes to answer it. Rhona tells her that Trump will meet them across from Trump International on Central Park West. In my favorite development, we don't see Rhona actually give Kristen a time for the meeting, but we do see her admonish Kristen not to be late. Awesome. Don't get there after Mystery Time! Trump will be really angry! And then, in the development that tells you once and for all that I have no friends working for this show, shirtless Danny is paraded across the screen and burned onto my brain.

In the Magna van, they're pulling into the Sea Garden, which is the name of their motel. A motel at which I would never stay, because it already sounds like it would be really moldy. ["And, from past work experience, let me assure you also that going in the pool is extremely unwise." -- Sars] We learn that Michael is functioning as their PM, because he's in real estate, like Brian. He also claims to have "a knack of completing projects quickly." The team takes in what is clearly water damage to the ceiling, and Erin cringes at the idea that buildings might contain mold. (Told you!) Boy, is she out of the loop. Also, the toilets are ugly. Also, there are bugs. The team looks fairly unhappy, but they obviously don't have much of a choice at this point. Outside on the sidewalk, Verna meets with Michael about her role in "accounting" and "customer relations," but reminds her that "there's a floating element," which is Michael for "you also have to clean, so don't think you don't." She tries to run down a bunch of customer service ideas she has, but Michael cuts her off, saying that his priority is the rooms, because if the rooms suck, customer service is just not going to do all that much. Verna, I think, really doesn't want to clean rooms, because she's insistent that they spend time right now talking about "making sure that the guests have a great time." Michael insists that this is "small stuff" at this point. Verna interviews that Michael is focusing on the physical renovation, which she says is "only one half of the majority [sic] of the work" that they should be doing. She and Michael continue arguing, because he can't bring himself to argue over a welcome package until the ceilings aren't falling down. Makes sense to me. If the plaster falls on you while you're enjoying your complimentary cleansing mask, the effect will sort of be spoiled.

Chris and some of the other guys continue touring rooms. Chris interviews that he was "extremely confident" about the task, because he apparently has some relevant expertise in "renovating homes." Or some experience he hopes is relevant, or something. John mentions that they really don't need to agonize over which ceilings are bad, because if they have the ceilings popcorned, they'll just have them all done. Yeah, the popcorning doesn't take so long. It's ugly, but fast. (You can imagine me looking up at my popcorny ceiling right now. I could achieve the same effect with Elmer's Glue and oatmeal in about six minutes.)

Meanwhile, some of the Net Worth women head for Target, where they'll be picking up pillows and blankets. Brian talks to a contractor about adding a wall. A wall? Oy. He informs us that he's so hot at negotiating with contractors that "every one of [his] teammates" should take it as "an education." It's a shame he doesn't think more highly of himself. We see that Brian is telling the contractor that they're going with fourteen new toilets and fourteen new vanities. Craig looks on with surprise. Craig interviews that he wasn't sure where the idea of replacing all the toilets came from. Craig tries to tell Brian that they don't need new toilets; they just need new seats. Seriously, when was the last time you looked carefully at the non-seat portion of your motel toilet, provided it wasn't rusted or dirty? I would so much rather have an in-room coffeemaker, I can't even tell you. He also points out in his interview that Brian's approach meant throwing out a lot of work that Chris and John and Craig had done, checking on exactly which room needed what. Brian, instead, is opting for a "blanket purchase," like he's being the big man and everything. "You can't renovate units and not get new toilets," Brian flatly declares. I would love to hear what he thinks the likelihood is of a guest giving fewer stars because there isn't a new toilet. Because if you ask me, he forgot how they were being judged. It's not by Trump, or by general construction standards. It's by guest reviews. And guests will not know the difference between a new toilet and an old one, unless the old one is extremely disgusting, which these are not. They need seats, and that's all. Nobody's licking the outside of the pedestal, Brian.

At Target, Audrey, Kristen, Tara, Tana, and Angie are all shopping for textiles when Audrey gets a call about the fourteen new toilets Brian just ordered. Audrey wrinkles her brow. She says into the Space Communicator that she doesn't really think replacing all the toilets is a good way to spend money. Audrey explains that they'll just get new seats, but Brian tells her it's too late -- the toilets are already taken apart and pulled out. Audrey looks into the camera in a highly annoyed interview. "If we were to lose this task, it would be because Brian chose to throw out fourteen toilets that people shit in," she says with frustration. And I instantly love her a little. Brian also tells her on the Space Communicator that she needs to stop talking, because he's trying to call the carpet guy. They hang up. "What a fucking prick," Audrey says to the other women. I'm telling you, I didn't like her that much before, but I like her potty mouth. And I love that they left in her saying "fucking prick," just like they leave in football coaches screeching "MOTHERFUCKER!" at the ref, like you can't read lips that well. "You're not going to know the difference between a $500 toilet and a $5 toilet," she grumps in her interview. "Your ass doesn't know the difference." Hee. It's not common that you get the opportunity to use the expression "don't underestimate my ass" in quite such a literal sense. "Brian will never get it," she says. I wish she had added, "At least not from me."

That night, Michael is busy painting paneling, as is Danny. Oy, painting the paneling? Gross. That's, like, too tacky for Trading Spaces, and they make wallpaper out of address labels. At 3:13 AM, Michael comes to fetch Verna and ask her to paint a room. She tells him that she's working on staffing the hotel tomorrow. He basically tells her that if she has to give up a little bit of her customer-service planning in order to come paint, that's okay, and she should do it, because they've got painting that needs to happen. "Verna wanted to be the accountant," Michael interviews, "because it required the least amount of physical labor." And...word. We watch as Verna comes to help paint a room, so determined to remain detached from the task that she continues holding her purse the entire time. When Michael comes in to check on the progress and give some encouragement, Verna gives him some more resistance, at which point he tells her as firmly as he can to just stop it and get the damn painting done. They bicker about how she doesn't think he's doing any work, and he thinks she had the easiest job all day, and blah blah blah, he slams the door. Bren, looking more like the ice-cream man in that bow tie every day, says that indeed, there has been some strain between Verna and Michael, and that Verna is stressed over her role. He hopes Verna will relax and be "part of the team."

Brian and John have a meeting in which Brian says that people misunderstand him to be yelling at them or talking down to them when, in fact, he just has a loud voice. John explains that if he knows that, he should try not to talk to people that way, because whether he means it to be off-putting or not, it is. John presents this in as non-threatening a way as he possibly can, all about what he thinks would help that maybe Brian might want to try, but Brian is bristling. "If you just softened your tone," John suggests. Brian agrees that "sometimes [he says] things that [he] probably shouldn't," so it seems for a minute like maybe he's listening. John also points out to Brian that Trump isn't going to hire "a rash guy that rubs people the wrong way." And I think past seasons prove that's true. But all of Brian's insecurities come flying to the surface, and he hears John saying that he has no chance. This cranks up the defensiveness, and we're off. "You're totally wrong," Brian flatly declares. He goes on to say that Trump is just like him -- obnoxious and off-putting, but "telling it like it is" and all that. The thing is that Trump doesn't hire people like Trump, because he knows that he needs balance. Look at Boyfriend Bill. Look at Kelly. Look at Carolyn, George, and every other underling you've ever seen on this show. This is the whole thing -- Trump knows that if he hires himself, then that's too much of him. He knows that he needs people who are better at smoothing things over than he is, because that's what lets him be such a bastard. He's certainly not going to hire anyone he will need to make up for with people skills he doesn't have. Brian's inability to see this is a fairly obvious error in logic.

Furthermore, the other great lesson here is that whether Brian thought John should have emerged as the natural leader of the team, the fact is that he did, and that was pretty clear by this point. John had an exemption, and he could have slacked, but he didn't, and that only added to his credibility. So John was a force to deal with on the team, whether Brian liked it or not. And had Brian been willing to listen to John, he might have gotten John on his side and gained some valuable ground. Alienating the team's de facto leader because you resent him? Not smart.

Anyway, Brian insists that John is wrong about everything. Oh, and "if people don't like it, they can go frig themself." Seriously, that's what he says. And if you can't trust your company to a guy who favors the expression "go frig themself," to whom can you trust it? Brian interviews that John needs to get the kind of guy he is, and that he needs everybody to work together. So Brian wants to just demand obedience, rather than display actual leadership. Good one, genius. As John looks at Brian dubiously, Brian lectures that John just couldn't stop acting in the PM role. Oh, poor insecure Brian. That's called natural leadership and charisma, dear, much as I hate to admit that anyone on this show has those things. "If you think that, you are a silly little man," John says. You know, I could learn to like him quite a lot. He goes on to tell Brian that he (meaning John) has been working all night, and it's 5:30 in the morning. "If you're that insecure, that's the silliest thing..." "I read people," Brian declares. HA HA HA! No, really. He does. He says, "I read people." Isn't it ironic, don't you think? "John, why can't you be honest with me?" Brian pleads. "I am being honest with you! I just called you a silly little man!" John says. Heeee hee. And as long as Brian wants honesty, John isn't finished. "Brian, you botched this task. People here don't like you. I'm the only person here that's been trying to put out fires with people and quash all that shit." Brian tries for "patronizing," but you can hear the creeping panic: "John, it's all part of your game." John insists it isn't, because he wants to win the task, and they're clearly not going to. John looks at Brian walking away. "You screwed the poodle today, man," he says. "And you screwed the poodle with me." Can I just say...Unluckiest. Poodle. Ever. Anyway, John interviews that Brian's determination not to listen to anyone else is going to be his undoing. Oh, John. Your head is a little boxy for a boyfriend. Can you work on that? Because otherwise, you might be the oiliest boyfriend reality television has ever produced, and I don't say that in an entirely negative way. Outside the rooms, John tells Brian, "You're not getting this job with that attitude, period." And...wow. So true. "God, what an idiot," John mutters under his breath as he walks off. And...yeah, that too.

The morning arrives, and we are at the Surfside Motel, home of Net Worth. Brian is lecturing Kristen that they don't have the money to buy the beds at the price they've been quoted. "Okay, number one, that's your fault," Kristen says. Heh. She goes on to blame the budget problem on the unnecessary and wanton destruction of entirely salvageable plumbing. She tells him that she's going to return some things so that they can afford beds. I love that in a hotel, he thought you had to replace the toilets, but the beds weren't a necessity. I'm just saying, you don't get up from the toilet to visit the bed in the middle of the night. He tells her that if she wants to sit down and go over the budget, that's fine. She points out that it's a little late now. She tells him that he has already blown off a million opportunities to do budget, and all he's doing is reaping what he sowed by thinking that a PM didn't need to sit down and figure out budget before anything else. She announces that she's taking control of the money at this point, because he can't make it work. He tries to order her to sit down, and that's definitely not going to work. She tells him, "You suck as a leader, and you got us in this mess, and I don't need to sit down with you, because you don't know what you're doing." "Oh, I don't?" he says. (Good one! Don't take it lying down!) She says, "No, you don't, and everyone here agrees. If anyone gets fired, it's going to be you, because we all will back you up in the Boardroom to get fired, because all of us think you're a shitty leader. Every single person here. She does, I do, she does, she does, he does. Everyone here. So deal with that. And I'm not sitting down to listen to you, because I should have led this project, or someone else who knows more what they're doing than you."

See, she's breaking my heart, because that speech kicked ass, and he totally deserved it, and the way he shriveled up like a Craisin was truly awesome. But there's a time and a place, and I fear that she just made the situation worse, and that's not even counting the fact that it would have a lot more impact if she weren't so bitchy the rest of the time. What you want to do is be really professional and then uncork that speech at the precisely correct moment, and then get right back to work, which, tragically, isn't what she's going to do. But I still kind of loved how she paddled him across his arrogant fanny, because...exactly. Tara is all over the time-and-place problem, though, interviewing that all the fighting is really "insidious" when you're trying to get work done, and she thinks the team doesn't get it. "If you're fighting, you're not working," she quite correctly points out. And you can tell Kristen isn't able to leave well enough alone, because she actually yells at Brian across the pool area from the balcony that Trump says good leaders are respected, and he isn't respected. Which is true, but she really needs to quit while she's...well, not ahead, but at least a little bit in the game. Brian tells her to bring down the money, and she snaps, "No. If you want it, get up here and get it." Yeah, yer mom!