An awesome montage of classic timepieces reminds us of the Corporate Weasel Death Watch that's been going on since last week. The three members of Excel who actually did something of value last week -- Marshawn, Rebecca, and Brian -- hang out and discuss how many of their team will be returning. Marshawn sees it, as she sees everything, as an opportunity to fine-tune her strategy. Rebecca and Brian agree on their intuition that at least two people will be returning to the suite, but she shushes him once he starts to speculate on whom he thinks this will be -- the walls have toadlike, virgin, stripper, or gay ears. Oh, man. Excel is the saddest bunch ever. Rebecca keeps giving Brian these very sexy, very hilarious super-spy looks through her bangs as she's shushing, like she's Carmen Sandiego and he's about to blab where the Seavers hid the microfilm.
Time passes. A flower opens into full bloom, thrives with the miracle of photosynthesis, and slowly withers and dies. The whole group of survivors is sitting around the gorgeous kitchen table, wearing their casual Death Watch outfits -- Randal is wearing sleeveless workout gear. Fade to everybody turning as one to stare at the door. Felisha pretends to bite her nails like she's typewritering a giant ear of corn, or chowing down a redwood. She's kind of adorable, you guys. I've been enjoying her little faces all along, but she goes all out with the cartoonery this week. I bet she's a lot more fun when there's no Alpha Blonde. Fade again, this time to Clay tidying up alone. Fade to the door, doing nothing. The sun circles, circles over glaciers moving majestically across the world and icecaps slowly melting into the sea. Last week, imagining this whole scenario playing out was fairly hilarious, but I forgot how boring it would be to actually be there. Which we...are.
Pangaea splits apart and forms continents, which eventually blossom with life. Time passes: In the living room, Alla notifies everyone that at midnight, she's "declaring them done." Adam, looking tired, eats some ice cream, and it's pretty cute because it's way past bedtime plus he gets to eat ice cream. Time passes: Brian is falling asleep sitting up, and the remains of the Bloven are cuddling. Alla finally breaks the silence. "There's no way they'd come back at midnight. Holy shit!" Brian looks lost and really quite attractive staring into space, telling us first that it's been "seven hours" and that Josh and the guys are his "brothers," then again at eight hours that "you might as well give up." Everybody goes to bed. The Grand Canyon happens not all at once, but slowly, over time, as a river wears its way into the world. Even Michael Rapaport stands upright, roaming, developing tools, hunting and gathering, becoming agrarian, inventing sexism, becoming agricultural, inventing the Roomba. Becky Conner goes like this: Lecy Goranson, Lecy Goranson, Sarah Chalke, Lecy Goranson.
morning, now that we've learned a few things, Adam speaks very, very quietly and softly. We watch him put on a pink tie really, really slowly, then untie it and start over again. He's precise and youthful, I think is the point. He tells us excitedly that he got to stay up "until midnight!" and then informs us that the "consensus" is that he'll be the Excel Project Manager. I think it's less a random "consensus" and more "sacrificial lamb" kind of situation, but whatever. I feel like he'll do a good job, and not in that insecure "follow my every order!" kind of way. He feels good about it -- and weirdly looks exactly like Will Truman for a second -- because he's had the opportunity to assess everyone's talents. This during all those tasks where I literally don't remember him being there at all, I guess. Except for the singing. My God, the singing. By having a plan to properly utilize those resources, he feels he'll be successful no matter the task. You say to yourself, "As long as it doesn't involve picking up chicks or anything to do with sex," right? And you're absolutely correct, unfortunately.
Over at Past Apprentice Kelly's building project at Trump Place, Trump makes wooden conversation about how it's going, and how Kelly must be learning a lot from George, and how this year's Apprentices may or may not be "Kellies," which is funny, because didn't Trump just up and say the whole cast of candidates were the best he'd ever seen? Trumpian hyperbole -- it'll bite you in the ass, but only if you're aware of things happening from moment to moment, which is why the Trumps and the Melissas and the Omarosas will always win, and the non-crazy will always, always lose.
Marshawn opens the door for Rebecca and everyone looks gloomy, because: what if the whole venture went under overnight, or Jenthura's firing has twisted Trump's mind so badly that he's going to chase the remainder of the cast through the ruins with a machine gun? Or what if there's been some kind of switcheroo and they're all fired except Josh, James, Jenthura, and Mark, who are all in an even better tower somewhere even better, eating better food and laughing, and Kristi has somehow won, and Trump's pregnant with Jenthura's baby? When you're dealing with Trump, things don't have to make sense.
Trump informs the ruins of Excel that their team was "decimated," and Marshawn confirms with a shy smile that this means none of them are coming back. Rebecca gets scary intense and Brian begins to weep. He interviews that he is shocked, that the firings hit him "emotionally and mentally," and apparently physically, and that "personally," this is a "devastating blow." Brian, make me root for you, starting now, please. Thanks. Trump gives Excel the choice to even out the numbers again, and they (after conferring) immediately choose Randal, again, so he's back on Excel for at least the week. Brian stops crying long enough to allow as how Randal, besides being the presumptive Apprentice, has analytical skills and is "an extremely smart, all-around good player." Randal bends down -- way, way down -- to hug Brian, and it's comical but mostly sweet, because it's Randal.
I know for a fact that I don't know who this Kelly man is, but I have even less of an idea about it now that I've seen a few minutes of footage of him. Dude. He looks like...some guy. Some guy that just woke up. Trump menaces about how "Kelly's been learning a lot and having a lot of fun," and sleepy little Kelly agrees that he's been "learning a lot," and Trump has to pretty much threaten Kelly to agree to part two of the claim, calling him a "wiseguy." Then there is a stupid segue to this week's task. Again.