Things begin in a most devastatingly respectable fashion as the S18 are split into gender teams and then asked to...run across a golf course. In a footrace. To determine who gets the better Bally's location for their first task. It's ugly, like, Hands On A Hard Body ugly, as the women slip off their heels and jump onto golf carts, laughing gaily about how much smarter they are, and the men...win anyway, somehow.
The two teams then do the task, promoting extra "membership plus" fitness classes. Team Capital Edge (the women) gets a Bally's in Spanish Harlem, while Team Excel (the men) gets a club in McAffluentVille, smack in the middle of Richerthanthou Borough. Both classes center on totally hardcore circuit training aerobics that we don't really get to see, but the Capital Edge marketing centers on cheap phone sex advertisement stylings, which makes nobody happy.
Everybody's totally attractive because The Donald picked them himself, crazy because NBC likes ratings, and virtually indistinguishable because there are like eighteen of them. Team Excel acts all like management types, boring dudes in suits that want to do their best and save their crazy for the weeks to come, but three men in particular stand out: Markus, the (basically self-appointed) Project Manager this week and some kind of mind-blowing freak; Josh, the cut-up and all-around wiseass Ikea-specs fake-accent cutie; and Randal, who loses a family member and is flown by Trump to the funeral.
On the Capital Edge side, wicked competent on the whole, four women in particular make stars of themselves: Alla, the pre-show ticking time bomb ex-stripper alleged murderess who ends up being the only clearly sane person in the bunch; Marshawn, who mark my words is a time bomb of some unspecified type; Kristi, the Reese Witherspoon doppelganger Project Manager full of bad ideas; and Melissa, the self-identified ethnic beauty martyr who's full of badness and craziness from minute one.
The task goes by pretty quickly, the women doing customer surveys and the men doing stuff we don't really see much of, because we've got to see miles of footage of Melissa acting like a total freak, lecturing everyone about how cheap and worthless she finds Latinos and refusing to shut up no matter how intensely she's asked to cut it out, or at least stop repeating herself verbatim over and over at the top of her lungs. She's pretty much Jeff from Apprentice: Martha, only slightly prettier and slightly more irritating.
Team Excel -- a stupid, stupid name -- wins (by eleven dollars), and due to a new twist in the game, vote not to give PM Markus exemption from week's board room. They are correct to do so, because Markus is not only obnoxious and wrong, but also embarrassingly ineloquent and strength- and power-free. However, they have won the task, so they get to go to the Friars' Club with Trump. Which sounds like the opposite of fun, but at least Markus has ten foot-in-mouth experiences in what I'm sure amounted to fifteen total minutes of Friar Fun, most of them consisting of him stuttering to Donald all about how he's pretty much the same person as Donald Trump, only smarter and cooler. And he's neither? And, like, think about that a sec.
Meanwhile, Melissa acts insane and Omarosa-like and thinks she's on Survivor, killing all buzzes to the point that once Capital Edge gets into the boardroom, they turn on her as a group, asking one by one that Melissa be thrown out on her actual, literal, obnoxious ass. When asked which two team members she'll bring to the final boardroom, PM Kristi instead just brings the hated Melissa, a minimal risk at best, even though her trampy XXX "We'll Make You Sweat" porno campaign is universally hated.
In the boardroom, Melissa again goes completely insane, blaming the fact of her turning eight other adult women utterly against her on: her irrational hatred of Kristi, her own divisive glorious beauty and talent, and the jealousy and pettiness of all womankind. Not exaggerating here, dude. Carolyn finds it all utterly interesting and gross, especially since her decision was clearly already made after about five seconds of Melissa's company. It takes even less time for Donald to fire her, factoring in the time it takes him to break into Melissa's unrelated and nearly incomprehensible monologue on the subject of "Melissa Rules And All Other Women Are Just Bitches."
Mostly, it's just a relief to see the "Crazy Lady" Omarosa/Stacie J. type eliminated so quickly, rather that getting it edited all hatefully together over several weeks. Capital Edge ends up looking better than Excel for having located and expunged their toxic bullshit member so quickly, and bringing about one of the very limited legitimate firings ever on this show. Kristi returns to the suite to cheers and applause, while Melissa is driven away to the bughouse to the ongoing tune of her unrelenting craziness.
Donald explains, in his usual outdoor voice, how the new group of Apprentices comes from all over the nation, and they all have a story to tell. One story he avoids is how he hand-picked the entire squad, which is why they're almost all jaw-droppingly beautiful. Their CVs, however, tell the usual shockingly successful stories, which I always find inspiring. I love reading about how people had $150 million portfolios by the time they were in junior high. It makes me feel -- not accomplished exactly, but -- like I could be. Which is the whole point of this show: watching highly successful people doing great stuff you can learn from, and then horribly stupid things you can feel superior about.
We focus first on Kristi, a 24-year-old sales genius from Gainesville, FL. She talks about her early challenges, including having a premature child at the age of 16, right up front. We move to the somewhat creepy Mark, a "good old boy from the South," who feels that he will be a strong competitor. Thirty-five, he's a wealth management startup success with the goal of managing $100 million in the five years. He loves country music and describes his style as "visionary" and is a total sexist, having said previously that he'd get along with Carolyn once she realized she wasn't in charge.
Markus, 41, looks like British television. He grew up "splitting his time between Chicago and Sarasota, FL," but has lived in many wonderful cities. He left pre-law at Santa Monica College due to his "entrepreneurial spirit." In short, he is a tool. He immediately starts in with some irritating talk about how he's a "big fish in a small pond" and it's "time to put himself among the real players" because he's "not only as good as them, but better."
Quick Quiz! Here are some quotes from Markus's NBC interview. Check one for every sentence you'd ever possibly say in your lifetime:
"I have an intense passion for life and adventure."
"High on the list are skiing, auto racing, flying and a passion for fine wine: I frequently travel to Bordeaux, Champagne and Paris."
"Finding fascination in the everyday is a definition of success."
"The relationships I develop and the incredible adventures I lived are success."
"As a leader I take others where they would not go by themselves."
"My adaptable approach, vision and forward-looking decisions are hallmarks of my style."
"Bill Rancic and I are kindred sprits."
"We both appreciate a fine cigar!"
"I have been a 'multipreneur' since I was 16 years old."
Now give yourself one million points for each "Yes" answer. Way to go!
Trump tells us how he's built many companies in the last hundred years, and he really needs people to run them. Makes sense, except why only choose one a year? There's some lip service to Bill, Kelly, and Kendra as "invaluable," and some shots of them looking very good at their jobs. Trump then comes running at you from Trump Tower screamingly crazily about how he needs a TOUGH NEGOTIATOR and a DYNAMIC LEADER…AN APPRENTICE!
He hops in a Song plane and continues to scream at us about how there are eighteen candidates, and how they might go nuts and break under the pressure. We cut immediately to Melissa, whose main claim to strength here is the preparation she received from playing sophomore softball. No, I'm not kidding.
Randal is 34, and the President and CEO of BCT Partners, a consulting firm he founded. He was born in Philadelphia and was raised in Hightstown, NJ. Like most of the competitors this year, he was a star athlete and is a big Christian. He tells us about his five academic degrees in engineering, business, and technology, which include a B.S. from Rutgers University, an M.S. from the University of Oxford in England as a Rhodes Scholar, and an M.S., M.B.A., and Ph.D. from MIT. If you missed that, wait a second, because we'll hear about them a whole lot this year. He seems nice, quiet, and mellow, which makes him stand out.
Alla came from Russia penniless, was a stripper, and drove a man crazy with her wiles until he stalked her and eventually killed a bunch of people in a string of botched robberies trying to please her. Now she's a Vegas-living, spa-owning millionaire. She's also one of the smartest tacks in the box, and I love her, and I need her to write her autobiography, stat. She's a somewhat rough-looking 31, born and raised in Chisinau, the capital of Moldavia, and moved to the U.S. in 1988. By 19 she bought her first property, and at 23 was one of the youngest "pioneers of the spa boom," which I didn't know about before.
The candidates meet at Trump National, a world-class golf course he's still screaming about, to discuss THE DREAM JOB OF A LIFETIME. A wee man in a taxi (this is Brian, 23, who has succeeded outrageously in every industry from publishing to internet startups to real estate) looks nervous, and everybody looks nervous, including myself as Trump continues to shriek: WHO WILL SUCCEED? WHO WILL FAIL AND WHO WILL BE…THE APPRENTICE? Seriously, I feel like I'm about to get whacked when he does that. By a werewolf who's in the Mob.
The valet at Trump National looks just like several of the male candidates, who mostly are identical. Brian and James are only different people if they're standing up, because Brian is short and tad bit better-looking. Mark is creepy and Markus is sad, blond Josh wears emo glasses while blond Clay looks Botoxed, Chris is huge and has dimples, and Adam is about to turn twelve. The women fare better, although it's often difficult to tell the difference between Rebecca, Toral, and Jennifer W., unless you're close up. Felisha, Alla, and Jennifer M. are all intense with long blonde hair, but at least you can tell Felisha by her frumpy clothes.
We meet Jennifer M. , who is very cool, hard but gracious. I'm looking forward to her really getting in there. She looks exactly like a corporate communications major at SMU, which is to say: like an oil money sorority sister. Twenty-six, she was Miss Oregon USA and a top ten finalist at Miss USA 2004. She was home-schooled and started working full time at 17, inspired by her entrepreneur father. By 20 she was breaking sales records with Qwest Dex, and at 23 was the youngest manager at an international advertising firm, where she consistently exceeded her goals by more than 200%. See, doesn't that stuff make your heart sing! I love how you can be proud of these people's accomplishments right off the bat. It makes it more fun.
Marshawn tells us that in her work, she's been able to able to represent gang members, drug dealers, and prostitutes…but also Presidents. Amusingly, she says this experience will be easy to adapt to working with CEOs and executives, but she leaves out which areas of expertise will be most helpful there. Born and raised in Dallas, TX, she relocated to DC, where she was named Miss District of Columbia and went on to the third runner-up place at Miss America. I don't know anything about pageants, so this seems worthless to me. However, she's immensely charming and charismatic, which is good, because she's the CEO of a professional development and public speaking consulting agency that works with politicians, athletes, entertainers, and media personalities. Love that. It means she's going to be really fun to watch working the people over and getting all Sales all the time. She's definitely the strongest person we've seen thus far.
The legal references she makes necessitate a slight digression, because her CV is jam-packed. It comes from the fact that she's a "national spokesperson on youth crime prevention and leadership development," and has worked with the Justice Department as a co-founder of the National Youth Network. She graduated magna from TCU and was named one of Glamour's "Top Ten College Women." Her J.D. is from the Georgetown University Law Center, and she's worked criminal defense in the Juvenile Justice Clinic and as a litigator on Georgetown's International Commercial Arbitration Team competing in Vienna, Austria.
The candidates stand awkwardly for awhile, and Clay tells us that being openly gay will somehow be a "huge advantage" because "it's not a big deal." He feels that the guys will not be threatened and that the girls will instantly want to be his best friend. This seems disingenuous in many ways, but maybe I'm biased because of his interview stuff, which all reads very "small-town Texas gay" to me, which is a subject I'm fairly familiar with. He hates Kendra for being uppity, and Carolyn for being a yes-lady who needs a man to tell her what to do, which is suspicious, but then there's also this list:
Michael Bublé, Norah Jones, Mariah Carey, Rob Thomas, Moby, Gretchen Wilson; the Shopoholic series; Friends, HGTV, TLC, The Biggest Looser [sic], I Love Lucy, Extreme Home Makeover; Under The Tuscan Sun, Love Actually, Steel Magnolias, and The Birdcage. I surmise and will bet you cash money that his home is a split level with champagne carpet containing: unique shelving, at least one large vase with nature crap coming out of it, framed photos of his mother, lots of warm colors including a burgundy or burnt umber couch, a Pottery Barn explosion, kitsch Lucille Ball memorabilia up to and including refrigerator magnets, constant quoting of Mama's Family rather than Grey Gardens, and a deep and abiding respect for Patricia Heaton. It's not gay, it's just Texas.
Markus tells us how he and Trump "have a lot in common" and are "kindred spirits" and that he's confident they'll be business partners "at some point." It's heartbreaking, this, because if you locate your power or manhood outside yourself, you're never going to feel complete. If he could just become best friends with Trump, Bill Rancic, or Tony Robbins, he'd somehow finally get a girlfriend, not to mention wads of cash, because he's intuited that he's missing something but he thinks he can get it by osmosis, instead of how you actually get it, which is by shutting the hell up for five seconds and considering your own faults and how to address them. He's a martyr of wussiness and he wants to play with the big boys, and can't understand why for 41 years, he's always been picked last for the team. Which is…why he's always picked last for the team.
The candidates walk purposefully below us toward Trump, as an American flag floats bravely in the foreground. Trump appears and introduces the group to the Viceroys, George Ross and Carolyn Kepcher, whom he calls "two very famous people." Carolyn, always beautiful, is really great-looking today, because not only is her hair sassier and less severe, she's also smiling for once.
Trump asks the teams to separate by gender, noting that it'll be easier to tell them apart. It takes me a second to figure out what he means, which is that they all look the same and he won't know who's on any given team. This part's awesome because some people in the mixed crowd stand their ground, wanting their gender to come to them, while others naturally follow. There's a lot of waving people to come over here or go over there, but the people who stick it and win out are interesting, particularly Randal, Josh, and Markus for the men, and Jen M. and Melissa for the women. The identical guys referred to above stay standing behind the women's group until the last possible second. Informative.
Each team is instructed to pick a team name and a project manager. Trump forgets to tell them not to totally fuck these two things up. We then learn that this year, the winning PM doesn't get exempted from the board room unless the team votes them the privilege. Marshawn and Rebecca (I think) and Jen M. nod, and the men look nervous. Well, most of them. Josh just looks awesome. There's something to his whole skin care career after all, I think.
Golf is Trump's "form of exercise," he awkwardly segues, but other people go to gyms. Kristi and Josh are highlighted here, looking intense. Kristi looks and sounds a lot like Reese Witherspoon, while Josh looks and acts a bit like Seth Rogen, meaning that they are both dreamy. Melissa smiles crazily, and Markus is trying to be mellow and intense at the same time.
The first task is creating and selling a new "Fitness Plus" class at a Bally's, meaning that you pay for the class itself regardless of your membership status. This kind of thing is a win/win for the organizer and the club, because it serves as advertising for the gym's facilities while the class giver makes a quick buck. We highlight the main people we'll be talking about this week while he talks about the task: Kristi, Melissa, Marshawn, Randal, Josh, Markus, and Chris.
Since it's "important to stay ahead of the competition," Trump then abruptly sends the group on a footrace across the 525-acre grounds to find his personal helicopter. The winning team will send two members to New York to pick the better of the two Bally's locations. Chris (former NFL guy with pointy elf ears who now owns an East Texas tree farm) almost runs directly into Trump, who sidesteps and then slaps him on the shoulder like an Old West dogie. It's funny because it's his first instinct, and he looks a little rattled.
Carolyn and George watch, bemused, as the candidates demonstrate a complete lack of shame. Is this show always this demeaning? ["The why of it is kind of complicated, but: yes." -- Sars] I mean, they're all wearing business suits and the women are in heels, and they're having to run all over this golf course. It's tacky. Some of the women nab golf carts, while one of the men shouts to find the highest vantage point to search. This is kind of cool because the teams are already working together, using different strategies as a group. Chris remains at the head of the pack, and the editing shows a dead heat between him and Rebecca (I think) which was probably not that close. Most of the candidates who catch up after that seem to be women. All the men high-five anyway. Felisha, who's the "explainer" candidate in this segment, explains that this win is an advantage for the men, but the women remain optimistic.
After a title card reading Can't We All Just Get Along?, Trump tells us the basic truth of you have to get along with people or you'll fail. God, no wonder he's such a success. Not to mention his seventeen error-free marriages. "Let's just see how that plays out," he says, and you know something crazy's going to happen.
In the shuttle, Markus talks a lot because he can't freaking shut up, but the essential truth of his dull and unending platitudes gets him nominated for PM. He immediately pisses off Chris, and I'd guess everybody else, by shrinking from the opportunity because he's a gasbag but also a wuss, but not even Chris mentions the really awful thing he does , which is playing it out long enough that he can act like the whole team is fucking begging him to lead them, all, "Fine, fine. I'll do it!" He's so toast. They are going to rip his ass to shreds and he'll never even know they've done it. I want to slap his face.
"Native New Yorkers" Tiny Brian and Fake-Hipster Josh fly in the chopper, talking of Sephora and locations. Josh explains that one location was in a relatively affluent area, while the other was in "Spanish Harlem," and thus less attractive. At the Chelsea location, Josh immediately charms the Bally's manager with a firm handshake, and they get down to business, examining the client base and demographics and wondering about the proper marketing strategy.
On the women's shuttle, Kristi pretty much puts herself out there, like the opposite of Markus (we'll see later how that's not precisely true), saying she's a star athlete and would do a good job on this task. Because they're still thinking like humans and not piranha, everyone's gracious about it. Felisha explains the lack of stress that went into the decision. On the bus, Marshawn hypes them about how they've definitely got a better concept than the men possibly could, and then in interview tells us that the location was depressing until they got inside and saw how many people were working out there. Nobody says this explicitly, but basically: the women are going to first canvass the members for pricing info, then market to the neighborhood, while the men are pretty much going to stay exclusively in the gym itself.
Felisha interviews a dude with a headband and gold chains, and learns he's into boxing, and Jen M. stands by while Melissa condescendingly harasses a guy in a blue bandanna about how much he'd pay, which is $15. I think we're supposed to think this is the same guy she'll mention later in the episode. Toral interviews a very cool Asian lady about how much she'd pay for the classes, and gets a $50 estimate.
In the conference room, Kristi initiates a discussion of the pricing suggestions and general trends from the member survey. Everything's fine, and then Alla looks appalled as Melissa jumps in and starts yelling at everybody, trying to command the entire conversation. People immediately begin to look peeved as she starts off with a general rant about everybody's wrong, and then tells them that, as she is "Hispanic," she knows with authority what her people are "used to paying," and that too high a price will make them feel ripped off. She then harangues us, the viewers, with the same crap, pointing out that 98% of the clientele is "Hispanic." Jen M. points out that most people she talked to were comfortable with $50, and Melissa screams at her that she was being lied to and later on, when Melissa undermined her by going back to the same people, she bargained them down to $15. This part's awesome because the lazy, shifty, cheap, worthless "Hispanic" person Jen M. is talking about was…Asian. Melissa reiterates her horrible point again and again at the top of her lungs, pointing shut-up fingers at everybody, who are grossed out.
Toral describes the situation perfectly in interview: it's possible that the general supply/demand curve they've estimated was thrown off by the cameras and business suits and blonde people, but Melissa was being so horrible about it and "couldn't stomach her." I love Toral, even as she snits that this behavior would never be tolerated in "some of the top institutions I've worked for in New York." Melissa paces around talking crazy and yelling at herself and putting on little skits, and everyone tries to shut her up. Finally Kristi slightly raises her voice: "End of discussion. Quit bickering about it." Melissa makes that frustrated face like everything's going to hell because they won't do exactly as she says.
Flash Quiz! True or False:
Playing the race card is okay even if you do it to denigrate your own heritage: Yes or No?
Passing the buck is sexy and commanding: Yes or No?
Other people's highly-experienced and -educated opinions: Yes or No?
Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth is a role model we can all be proud of: Yes or No?
Sporting a wound in your soul a mile long that bleeds need and codependency is a great networking tactic and everybody will want to be your friend: Yes or No?
(Answers are: Obvious.)
Chris and Markus get into a discussion with the group about the duration of their class, doing the math that doing 45-minute classes will cheat them out of the revenue of one class in the day. Everyone smiles because they're trying to be nice, but this is, like, completely confusing to Markus. Josh interviews that Markus was immediately out of his depth, confused, six or seven times asking everyone to "slow down" and "be cool." Shameful oboe music starts as Markus asks if there's anything he "could, or should be doing better." Everyone looks grossed out and horrified, and Josh interviews a Stuart Smalley impression, ending with an irritated "Get some balls!"
That night, Randal's on the suite phone learning that his grandmother has passed away. After discussing the funeral awhile, he just hangs up and sits quietly with the phone, his hand to his head. He finally clears his throat and stands, trying not to cry. When he informs the group of this development, Markus kind of drapes himself across Randal for a sublimely awkward second. Randal explains that her breathing tube fell out and the nurses didn't come in time, so she suffocated. How horrible. Everyone gives him some sympathy, and the already-likeable Josh gets extra points for asking whether the grandmother was maternal or paternal. As if it matters, but that's the point. Asking for a meaningless detail, or any information at all, is a good way to snap someone out of getting depressed in situations like this.
The women pass out fliers for their "Triple Threat" class, which is composed of boxing, Pilates, and an ab workout. On the red flyer, the huge heading reads "Triple XXX Threat." It's embarrassing. Marshawn mentions that it looked like something for a strip club, but it was the PM's call, and she didn't seem to think it was too big a deal. Later, Kristi will explain that this was a graphics accident and the "Triple Threat" was supposed to written in front of the "XXX," using it as a graphic, which is a lot better. Now, though, they just look like hos.
Melissa bitches to Jen M., who tries to convince her to, like, do some work or something, that they're all going to do their best. Melissa's not hearing it, continuing to bitch about nothing in particular, and Jen M. physically turns away to talk to Toral and (I think) Jen W. Melissa interviews that success in the task "would have required planning, and that wasn't one of Kristi's fortes." She's got a very "professional," self-satisfied face on at this point. Jen W. (I think) asks Melissa a simple scheduling question and Melissa laughs hysterically and conspiratorially that Kristi hasn't made any decisions.
Chris explains to a mark that they'll be doing "kick-butt boxing, abdominal blast, and a yoga flex." I don't know what the hell he means by that, but they're calling it the "Rush 1/2 Hour." He explains to us that they stayed in the gym because they've already got their target audience: fitness-oriented people who are already familiar with the gym. It's nice that they actually thought about the alternatives there.
Markus gets a call from Trump, continually trying to interrupt and babbling some ass-kissing nonsense. He tries to explain their team name (Team Excel, which is idiotic) but nobody 's listening, not even you or me. Trump hates it, which makes Markus talk a whole lot more, and then he talks, and then he babbles, and then he raves on and on, and Trump hates him, putting him on mute to complain to George, who laughs, and the oboes play some more, and Trump cuts in with a curt "Explain it to me tomorrow, you don't have to talk anymore." Which is hilarious. Markus hangs up the phone with a ridiculous "I feel good about that," like, to himself, which angers up my blood even more. Then we watch the choreographing of the new class as Kristi gets the same call. The women's team will be called Capital Edge, which pleases Trump, and Kristi shows an ability to have a fucking conversation and get off the phone, which pleases Trump more.
Melissa bitches at Toral about nothing in particular and Carolyn approaches her about how she feels the PM is doing. This is Carolyn starting shit in a way she could never get called on, and it's one of the reasons she rules. She looks WASPish and unimpressed as Melissa immediately starts talking shit about Kristi, and by extension, the whole team effort. Alla and Marshawn, a couple of my early favorites, watch in horror, and Alla interviews about how much they all love Carolyn and want her to like the team, and how Melissa is just ranting and complaining, with no possible benefit for anyone. Honestly, this won't affect Carolyn's opinion of the team. It's clear from her body language that she thinks Melissa is a fruitcake from minute one.
Melissa gets Markus-y with Carolyn, laughing, "I'm doing everything," and Carolyn gets flinty: "Why are you doing everything?" Realizing this is a question without an answer, Melissa is embarrassed and retreats, which is no better. Kristi takes Melissa aside and tells her to shape up, and Melissa fake-agrees, then bitches some more. Kristi turns around and tells her to seriously cut it out. "I'm not going to have you being negative any more. Let it go." Melissa interviews that Kristi's "just threatened," and says that if it's that bad Kristi should just get fired and go home because she's only going to get worse. Well, something like that. Kristi sends her to work on the accounting part with Marshawn so that she'll stop interfering with everything, and Melissa slumps off as if under the impression that Kristi is somehow being unreasonable. The only unreasonable thing Kristi's done so far -- besides the flyers, which should have been redone -- is not benching your insane ass the second you started with the self-hating racism, you monster.
Chris and Randal announce a class starting for Team Excel, and Randal looks pretty spacy, but not unfocused, as he gives a voice-over on the difficulties of doing this right now. Markus interviews, after kneeling lamely at the money-counting table, that it's "going to be a photo finish," but, like, how the hell would he know that one way or the other? We go to commercial on a shot of him doing impotent and sad aerobics.
We learn Kristi actually choreographed the XXX class, and feels confident that they'll leave feeling worked out, and like they got their $20 worth. Marshawn and Kristi charm the people as they're leaving the class, and it's nice.
The two teams enter the boardroom, and everyone smiles insanely at Trump. George notes that Capital Edge concentrated on street marketing and did well, earning $516. Carolyn is proud of Team Excel also, who focused their marketing on people who were already members. They earned $527, winning by just $11. That's rough. Kristi, Alla, and Marshawn -- the team leaders this week and my personal favorites, so far -- look bummed. The winners will be having lunch with Trump at the Friars' Club. Markus, still angling pathetically for that personal connection, quips, "That is huge!" LOOK AT ME! WE ARE BEST FRIENDS!
The men are offered the opportunity to vote on Markus's exemption, and Markus makes a lot of exaggerated and lame faces as, first, Chris explains that the exemption is something he'd prefer to see gone forever, and then everyone but Adam and Randal vote again. Markus looks destroyed, even though it's clear that everyone thinks forgetting about the exemption is about keeping everyone on task and being part of a team effort instead of slacking the week.
Trump dismisses everyone, keeping Randal back to offer the option of quitting the process now due to the tragedy. Randal says no, that he and his grandfather agreed that his grandmother would prefer he stay in, and that it will be in her honor. He looks really messed up about all of this and it's touching. Trump has arranged for a helicopter to take Randal to the services in Philadelphia.
At the lunch -- I love this, the social outing, because people act more naturally than they do in the Boardroom or even on task, because it's a normal activity that everybody's used to doing. Markus apparently feels damned comfortable, opening the scene with: "I can't do your job for you -- obviously I wouldn't dare to try, you know -- but it was pretty darn close." Trump stares at him, because what the fuck part of that sentence is okay to say to frigging Donald Trump? We see a shot of Josh speaking confidently to Markus and Trump as Markus interviews that he saw this as a huge opportunity "to connect and build a rapport." It's clear he's speaking in the past tense, which means again he thinks he really knocked this one out of the park. At the table, he babbles and Trump ignores him. Brian and Josh just stare, and finally Trump -- who clearly adores Josh -- enlists him in some humor at Markus's expense. They joke right in front of Markus about "Just give me the Cliff's Notes, Markus," and Markus doesn't really get it. Trump warns him that his team will be "getting on" him for the total yakking, and Markus asserts that "as not a team leader," he might shut up.
Okay, but you're at lunch with Trump right now? And the task is over?
Josh mentions his feelings, which he shares with Chris and just about the whole team, that he'd be happy working without PM exemptions altogether, unless something crazy were to happen and a given PM really somehow contributed a lot, like 50% of the revenue. Sadly, however, there was nothing amazing or particularly leaderly about Markus's work.
Back to Markus, who's lecturing Trump about business: "Don't hold back, make sure you use your resources to their utmost." Trump turns to Josh again. "He said he was going to stop talking so much. People don't change, by the way." Markus finally gets a little bit of the point and looks down, mumbling, okay. Trump addresses the table at large: "People. Don't. Really. Change." Markus is still only about one percent as embarrassed as he should be. Trump knows he's preaching to the choir, so he really sells it.
Back at the suite, Melissa starts with the backstabbing, bitching to Jen W. about how "unfortunately," the first task was led by Kristi, and "unfortunately," she doesn't "respect her." She says it's "because of the way she handled things from the get-go," and, frankly, because of the way "she dealt with us as individuals." Translation: She ignored my stupid, racist ideas and unending shrieking, and told me to shut up when I got weird and bitchy, which proves she hates you.
Jen W. is just like, "You heard her say negative, negativity, negative. Why would she think that you're negative?" But Melissa doesn't hear this, flipping out and repeating herself over and over, wanting Jen W. to "understand why I said this," her head flopping all around for emphasis, even though she's not saying anything. "I Don't Respect Kristi." Jen W. is like, so? and Melissa follows up this pointless point with an even more mind-bending "[But] I get that you do!" So, first of all, who or what are you trying to convince? You're not magic, you're not psychic. Telling someone over and over that you feel something is not going to have an effect on them other than irritation and boredom and thinking you're nuts.
But second of all, who the hell cares? That has nothing to do with anything, whether you respect her. Why the hell should that do anything to your performance? Are you used to respecting your boss? Because America called, and they'd all like to know what that's like.
Kristi sits with Alla, wondering why Melissa feels the need to creep around and get schemes happening. If only she knew how lame Melissa's "scheme" actually was. "I don't like her!" Um, okay. "No, I mean I don't like her." I understand. "I don't think that you do. I don't like her!" No, I get that. "But just listen!" God.
Alla explains in a measured, wise tone that Kristi has no reason to try to get her allegiances in order, because she has a well-deserved confidence about her abilities, and that Melissa is on the defensive and knows she's probably going down. The thing about Melissa is that she's so messed up inside that she can't hear both voices at the same time, which makes her act nuts, because she's not operating on a level where she can actually get five seconds for introspection and relate to people around her. Her entire life is a fight for survival. Imagine for a second: what if everyone on earth was out for your ass? Don't you feel sorry for her now?
Kristi interviews, and rather cutely: "This isn't Kristi versus Melissa. This is Melissa sucks and she needs to be fired." She clearly very angry at this point, like verge-of-tears angry, but it's diluted somewhat by her being cute as a button.
Capital Edge enters the boardroom -- Melissa's first, of course. Gotta get in there and use her sparkling repartee and clear understanding of the interpersonal psychology of business to save her poor, persecuted ass. Trump asks why they lost, straight up, and Kristi points out that it was only by $11. This isn't the answer, and Marshawn steps in: "Mr. Trump, we lost this task because of marketing." Assuming she was going to be fired, Melissa acts like this is a personal vindication, like they've been in there half an hour. "Thank you. Exactly." Kristi starts to look worried. She should.
Carolyn holds up a crumpled XXX flyer, very Connecticut Slow Burn around the face: "Who came up with this idea?" Melissa points silently to Kristi like this is a fucking cartoon; it is ridiculous and ugly. Kristi explains about the mix-up with the printer, and like I said, I can see where she was going with that. Honestly, it's not really a problem if you view it that way, in my opinion. The Xs become X-treme rather than X-tra Sexy. Now, Ivana would have taken it back to the printer's, that's one good thing you can say about her. Of course, she would have stayed there 'til Tuesday, but she would have redone it. The lack of emphasis and dropped balls on graphic identity and branding always weird me out on this show.
Kristi continues to try to talk as Carolyn holds it up, eventually having to resort to a very unsettling ex-CUSE me to shush her. "This is three Xs, [and it says] 'We're going to make you sweat.' Do you think you're marketing to women?" Kristi protests that she never would have even thought of it that way, but Melissa jumps in to bottom-line it for us: "The reason we lost, just so we can get to the bottom of this, is because of our project manager."
Alla speaks up that this is untrue, and the entire team shakes their heads emphatically, but Melissa continues: "She's very weak, very unorganized…" At this point Kristi kind of loses her cool and talks when she shouldn't -- she addresses Melissa about how she came up with the choreography and did a lot of the sales…but Melissa's not done, continuing right over her. "You're loud, you're obnoxious and weak, you make poor judgments, you shouldn't be here." Sigh. The stupid thing, beyond the pot/kettle here, is how she made that decision about five seconds after the other women didn't automatically elect her PM back in the shuttle bus, and has been repeating this exact list since that moment. Because she sucks unbelievably.
Alla is brilliant here. She tries to interject a few times -- just shy of loudly enough to actually get Melissa's attention -- so that she can turn to Trump and the Viceroys, exasperated, indicating how very hard to work with Melissa actually is. This might be the Gold Star Move of the Week, actually. Finally ceded the floor, Alla continues: "At the end of the day, Mr. Trump, it takes the entire team's effort, everybody's 100%…one member of the team did not give it 100%." She calls Melissa negative, condescending, and sarcastic, saying she brought them down and ultimately caused them to lose the task. Melissa makes crazy exasperated "I can't believe this is happening" faces as Alla points out that they were only off by one sale, which Melissa might well be blamed for. Melissa's crazy extends to the point where she thinks someone might feel sympathy for her at this time. Kristi agrees, quietly, that she had to put a lot of energy into managing Melissa, which is the smartest thing she does in this entire conference: sit back and let the others not only go after Melissa, but also up to bat for her.
Essay Question (Choose one.)
1. Compare and contrast yourself with a highly successful executive. If you can't find any differences, discuss how you are soulmates and might get gay married in Massachusetts some bright spring day.
2. Write a descriptive essay about how everyone is out to get you 24/7. Use examples from your own life, and ways you cope with this challenge. If you are unable to cope in any way, make a list of unrelated things using your non-dominant hand on the wall or floor near your desk.
3. If essays are not your bag, and nobody will advise you about how to complete this assignment in a better way, call Donald Trump and babble endlessly.
Trump asks Rebecca her opinion, and she says straight-up, "I honestly think that this team cannot work with Melissa on it. Organization is particularly hard when people don't listen, and only speak. Her actions here in the Boardroom proved she doesn't listen." I think I like Rebecca. It was a short speech, but it was well-designed, rhetorically: from the oblique request for Melissa's firing, to reference to their failure as a supportive statement, to first-person evidence. Smart.
Melissa: Talks crazy.
Jen W. pipes up and notes that Melissa pulled her aside and said she "had no respect for Kristi." Trump asks why and Jen replies, hilariously, "That's the thing, I still don't understand that. She just didn't like her."
Melissa: Starts making another crazy list of this and that.
Jen W. asks her directly, "Why were you so negative throughout the task? Why do either other women think you're being too negative? You said it was because of your lack of respect for PM. Lousy excuse." Nice, Jen M. She tells Trump that Melissa caused "a lot of friction, drama, negativity." Melissa explains insanely that this is because Kristi "gets under her skin," but that "at the end of the day," she's learned to keep her feelings in check. First of all, wouldn't that be a coincidence. Secondly, um, no you haven't. Thirdly, you walked in here acting crazy, which means that this epiphany would have happened in the last thirty seconds. And finally, what the fuck, again, does that have to do with anything? "You kinda bug me." That's her excuse for sabotaging the entire group's effort. "I don't like ya." She's such an asshole, you guys! If she reminds you of anybody you know, just cut the tie now. Her ass is toxic.
Whatever. Trump, bored, asks Kristi for her two Boardroom people, and with exhausted, steely eyes, Kristi asks to just bring back one. The Viceroys look at Trump, quite interested to see what he'll do. (It's going to be fine, this is actually a good move even though Trump is so unpredictable about being risky or questioning his rules in the Boardroom.) He agrees, and she picks Melissa. I like that, because it makes her seem like she's willing to risk herself while keeping the whole team out of even slight danger. Everybody leaves, and outside on the couch, Kristi looks freaked. Melissa looks like she knows everything in the whole world and is a total martyr.
Carolyn tells Trump that Melissa is very, very disruptive, but that she has strong issues with the marketing. George is more succinct and less ambivalent: "The team has identified Melissa as a disruptive influence." They come in and Melissa makes some more gross faces. Carolyn seems unimpressed by everything in the world.
Melissa starts with what a good person she is, like she's on Big Brother or something. "Despite what was shown today, I am a very positive person." It's not that you're negative, it's that you're an asshole. It's kind of a code word. "I made a mistake in letting her get under my skin." Still has less than nothing to do with your bullshit, Melissa. God. Even Kristi cracks an almost-imperceptible brow at this one. "At the end of the day," Melissa says for the hundred thousandth time, "my mistakes didn't cost us the task. Hers did. Her judgment was sorely lacking…" Trump has to interrupt this now-familiar chorus to ask Kristi her position, which is that they only lost by one ticket, which Melissa could have easily gotten for them, if she'd just climbed aboard instead of ruining every meeting and action item.
Then it gets awesome.
Melissa goes, "Did you hear every single other person?" Trump is like, "Yeah, I did, and they hate you and think you should leave." Melissa's like, "They said I was negative but that's it." Which is crazy, right? Then she goes, "The reality for me…is that I don't work well with women, because they're always intimidated." Hell yeah she said that.
George looks disgusted and confused by this one, and Kristi informs Melissa that she is in no way intimidated. Melissa gives her theory that she's so intimidating, in fact, that the entire team has gotten together to get rid of her, because Kristi is a weak link and not strategic yet. This is great because it's my favorite reality TV fuck-up, trying to game the show and get all alliances and double-crossing the second you get in the house, but also: they're not really competing against each other just yet, and the women as one were responding to how disruptive she was to them as a group, not how intimidating she was as a competitor. I mean, she makes me uncomfortable, but just because she's an erratic, deluded bitch, not because she's a power player. Are you kidding me with this?
So Kristi pulls a Markus and attempts to engage Carolyn in a discussion of something that happened two years ago (did somebody in Season Two try this "women hate me" shit?), but Carolyn's way too into what's going on here, and silences her with what was I'm sure quite a flick of the wrist. Kristi apologizes, and Melissa continues to rave, but I'm stuck on the whole Carolyn/Kristi thing. She's gotta know that now's not the time to ask Carolyn to team up with her. She's totally in trouble. It's a very Markus move: "You're my friend, right, good buddy? You like me? We don't like stinky Melissa because she's just a dumb-dumb." I like Kristi, a lot actually, but this was really bad.
Melissa explains that all women are intimidated by her because she's beautiful, and smart, and…she begins another list. Carolyn nearly laughs, looking over at Kristi for a second before remembering that they're not friends right now and she can't have a moment of solidarity with her about the crazy of Melissa, but come on. Trump points out to Melissa that most of the team is beauty queens (never mind how he's a pageant owner now and probably cast this season from his skeevy badger personal files), and Melissa starts off on some weird explanation about how Kristi is one of the few people that…something, I have no idea what she was about to say. Something effing inane. Trump just asks again if she thinks Kristi was intimidated by her beauty. She demurs.
Speaking of, though, Carolyn now gets freaking awesome. "So Melissa, what you're saying is that you can't work with women." She says this with a slightly angry expression along the lines of "Can you even believe how easy that was to make her say?" Melissa starts to say yet another thing about the end of the day, but Kristi Markuses herself again, blurting, "I work very well with women!" Kristi! Shut up! Let her hang her own self and shut up, girl!
Carolyn continues: "[So then] do you have a shot of [winning] this if you can't work with women?" Melissa replies along the lines of, "Actually, I totally do, because there are no women or 'Hispanics' in the corporate world, but lots of crazy people, so I'm golden." Carolyn: "[Okay, freak, but] more than half [of your team, or possibly the global population] don't respect you, so how can you come back to lead this team and win?"
Melissa's response is insane, because she says it like it's like an excuse: "Everybody that's a woman doesn't like me." George tries to get her to indict herself using a logical proof. "You're saying that they are intimidated by you; that creates a hostile environment. To get rid of the hostile environment, you've gotta get away from the intimidation." She doesn't follow, and he doesn't manage to make her say yeah so he can say, "Then leave."
Melissa continues to repeat everything she's already said, almost verbatim, and Trump points out that "every single woman in this room thought you were a disruptive influence." She interrupts, awesomely, "But that I did a good job." HUH? Trump nearly screams what the fuck? at this one, but instead just points out that nobody even remotely said that, at any point, and then Melissa argues the factuality of the claim with him like he's being willful or retarded.
(Here's how that went down. Maybe somebody said something at some point, and we did or didn't see it, that could be construed as positive, or she saw someone peripherally shake her hair at some point and thought she was being defended, or she's thinking of Marshawn saying that the marketing was the problem. Because for a type like this, all that stuff is equal. Not calling her an asshole is the same as calling her a genius, and not blaming her for the flyer is the same as doing a great job, because she's confused all the time and relies on general perceptions and feelings and blurs of words and concepts that she characterizes vaguely by whether they feel good or bad to her. If they feel good, she can hear them, but if they feel bad, that feeling gets transferred to something unrelated, like the person who said the thing that felt bad, or something else that person said, or just generally. It's a volume/clarity issue. It's really loud in there, and the only thing that gets through the static is stuff she wants to hear. Even if it was never actually said.)
Anyway, Trump explains to her that in reality, where we all try to live, the entire company of women said she was a very negative force and didn't want her on the team. He tells Kristi that her leadership was bad and the marketing was "the worst." However, mostly Melissa can't get along with anybody. And is horrible. Melissa interrupts that in fact they all said they liked her very much, and Trump has had it. "No. They said [what matters] to me, and you were in the room. Every single woman said you were a negative force." She tries to interrupt again, and he fires her.
Kristi grins smugly and a little creepily, and again -- stupidly -- looks over to Carolyn. Trump puts a stop to that with a quickness: "You should not be proud of yourself." Then she has a hard time wiping the grin off her face, because it's a grin of not pride, but relief. As smug as it looks, she's mostly relieved. Carolyn watches them leave, stunned by what she's seen, and outside, Melissa stands around looking weird.
Trump confers with the Viceroys: "We had no choice," and Carolyn's like, "By her own admission she can't work with women." There's an unspoken "Who the hell is on the show this year, anyway?" at the end there. Trump goes, "That's true," and Carolyn smiles, thinking, Duh. Kristi enters the suite and everybody cheers -- really loudly -- and in the Crazy Taxi, Melissa continues to rant about how women hate her, and how she's "too independent" for her own good, and how she'd rather be fired first than last, whatever that means, she's too nuts to bother figuring it out.
week, there are Lamborghinis and Josh bitches more about Markus, and Carolyn sits in Trump's big chair because she's in charge.
So what have we learned about likeability? We've learned that everyone likes a Project Manager to do things and have opinions, because it makes them feel safe. We've learned that it's possible to shut your face every now and then, even if you don't think it is. We've learned that racism and sexism are still gross, even if you're hating your own self. We've learned that ex-strippers can be brilliant at both advice and heated boardroom conversations. We've learned that running on a golf course in heels is dangerous and unpleasant, and that skin care for men is a plus. We learned that hating women is not yet actually back in vogue, here in the States. But most importantly, we've learned that a desperate need to be liked is not enough, and unless you are surrounded by idiots, is a huge freaking turnoff. Let's spend the week putting this stuff into practice, and I guarantee, before you know it, you'll hear those perfect words you've been dying to hear.