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Well, the most important thing here is the clip we see again in the previouslies, where Carolyn told Adam and Felisha, "There are five people remaining right now, and I think by far the two of you are the weakest," and Felisha's mind was blown. It's a sad but a very real character-revealing moment for Felisha, because it took her a relatively short amount of time to adjust to this information -- after she was done gasping and going "wow" -- but by the end of the exchange with Carolyn, she knew it was about setting her sights higher, and it was nice, and you know I like Felisha for this reason. I wish she wouldn't take it so personally, but that's a tough pill to swallow. You know Melissa, maybe even Kristi, would have been like, "Shut up! You are the weakest!" And I don't even know what Carolyn would do if you pulled that, but I don't ever want to find out.
Then there are credits, which are more interesting than ever, because of how you forget half these people ever existed, but also because week, presumably, we'll get to see our guys have to manage these bastards, and -- hopefully -- the biggest train wrecks are the ones they'll have to deal with. Where are the ratings in telling Chris or James what to do? No, I want -- demand -- Markus, Josh, Kristi, Toral, Melissa! I love that part! I'm so excited just thinking about it! Oh God: Clay!
Purposeful snare drums get you all tense and warlike as we join this week's Corporate Weasel Death Watch: Alla's asking Randal and Rebecca which of her two teammates will be coming back, and they agree that the only person who would know that is her. There's an unspoken but agreed-upon point here, among the three of them, that she's really been the only true player on Capital Edge for weeks. Like it's these three actual players sitting around knowing they are the real competition, and not even having to talk about it. I like that. Alla interviews that, "on a personal level," she's more interested in seeing Felisha return to the suite. Frankly, me too. I think part of the irritation you get with a Markus or a Clay or Jennifer W. is, "There's no way this person is going to win, toss 'em out," and while both Felisha and Adam pretty much fall into that category, Felisha's still more interesting as a contender. Also interesting is how suddenly Rebecca and Randal don't even bother with speaking out loud anymore, they just send each other psychic messages using their eyeballs and massive brains. It's awesome.
Alla then does something really bizarre. Because she cannot handle the stress of waiting, she pulls this Cruel Intentions-esque chair out into the middle of the front living room so she can stare at the front door, and stare and stare, and maybe run Adam through with a fireplace poker if he's the one that comes back. Rebecca and Randal accompany her in this pursuit, even though it seems like they also find it kind of creepy. It reminds me of those lordships or whatever that spent the whole Black Plague sitting between giant bonfires so that no germs could get through, and all their visitors had to deal with the drama of that. Alla interviews how she "didn't let [her] friendship with Felisha affect" what was done in the Boardroom. Dude, we know. She does say that Felisha is the stronger player of the two, and cites this as another reason she would rather have Felisha back. I don't know if that's exactly a lie, but it's not really the truth either.
“ Trump asks whether this was 'weakness' or 'just a poor decision.' The terms of the question dictate your implicit failure. Reject them. ”
Felisha starts saying how whenever Bill was around, Alla would start in on her with this whole spiel about "I want this, I want that" and Felisha was just trying to be a team, and Alla interrupts again: "You said, Don't make me look bad." Felisha shakes her head like she was just smacked, and Bill says, fairly, "Alla, you were clearly taking charge." Like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, she does this whole routine about "I embrace my responsibilities and do the best job I can," and Carolyn asks flat-out whether she felt she was "the leader on this task." She responds in the negative, giving Carolyn her opening: "Honestly, neither did she, and that's why you lost: there was no leadership there." It's not exactly true, but it's wonderfully put.
Alla complains that Felisha wouldn't let her lead, but wouldn't let her be subordinate either, and Carolyn -- who seems to have made up her mind -- asks whether Alla takes any responsibility for the failure whatsoever. Alla does, kind of, but frames it in a very tricky "it was a collaborative effort" kind of way where she actually does not. Carolyn pushes her to explain what makes either of them better than the other: "What's the point?" I like Carolyn generally, but I liked her a lot in this Boardroom. "She was the PM," says Alla, "and she lost focus." Felisha finally gets her breath back: "I lost control of you!" but Alla's not deterred, yelling, "You told me that I gave you 100 percent, so why are you saying that?" Felisha reiterates that she was doing her best to take some kind of leadership role, but that Alla fought her all along the way, and then makes her most cogent point in the entire episode: "I wasn't getting Alla. Alla is very creative, she can lay it all on the table, but she has to be in a leading role to do that." Brilliant interpretation, Felisha, and key to the whole dynamic, but I've gotta point out that you're still only addressing half the issue, because the fact is that you should have noticed that was the case about eight weeks ago.
Trump asks whether Felisha feels Alla is actually unmanageable, and Alla jumps in again: "Felisha, have I ever given you a problem on any other task?" Trump shakes his head. "But you are difficult." He starts babbling about how his parents sent him to military school because they said he was difficult, and probably they were right, but suddenly realizing he's making no sense and isn't talking about anything all that related to the task at hand, he switches back again. "You were the director?" Alla flat-out lies again, that Felisha never actually gave her ownership over the direction of the video, but Trump's not fooled, asking her again and again if she wasn't, in fact, the director of the video. Alla, Carolyn, and Felisha somehow get to the point that Alla was in fact the director for the shoot itself and that Felisha was the actor. Even still, Alla's in there hissing and pinching: "I said I'd do either one." Stupidly, Felisha decides this is the right moment to bring up how awkward the whole actor/director thing got, how it was weird to take the subordinate acting role, and Trump asks whether this was "weakness" or "just a poor decision." The terms of the question dictate your implicit failure. Reject them. But Felisha, of course, says the worst thing possible, that it was a poor decision, and says for neither the first or last time that most of her missteps were predicated on the belief that if they won the task, she wouldn't be going home. Basically handing her career over to Alla right there, every time she says it. So regrettable.
Trump decides he wants to see their commercial, and it's tiny seizures all around. Bill clenches his fist. Carolyn clenches her face. Trump explains that he's not a "big computer person," than in fact he "love[s] buildings," but that in essence he doesn't know what the hell that was about. Carolyn points out the big problem, that it was too much info in too little time, which is the point. The guy told them it was 2.5 minutes of material, and instead of cutting it down, they just shot it at you like that guy with the mustache who sold Matchbox cars back in the day. As a person who might be described as "somewhat wordy," I can kind of identify, but, like, just give me a limit and I'll find a way. There was no reason to chop out the storyline in favor of the word explosion, except that they were both exhausted and Alla is pretty much nuts. The responsibility for explaining this falls upon Bill, and he asks if this was, in fact, Felisha's idea. She truthfully says it wasn't, and Alla gets nuts. She goes like this: "You're kidding me. Felisha, shame on you. I'm sorry, shame on you. Shame on you!" It's amazing. Just amazing.
Felisha explains that it was Alla that wanted the words, and Alla goes, "Wow. You didn't let me make one move!" Trump draws it out: "But I thought she wasn't a leader? Whose idea was the text?" Alla jumps on it: "We did it together. Are you denying that, Felisha?" Felisha's like, "Yes? Insofar as that was the one big thing you demanded? And you threatened me with the hose again? So we did it?" Trump asks whether Felisha was "outdone" by Alla, and Felisha equivocates with her belief that "one person" is not better than the other, that they both have strengths, all that schoolyard bullshit, seemingly having missed the memo that that kind of talk is rendered irrelevant since one of them will be going home in a few seconds, and I start feeling the balance shifting: Felisha's inability to take step one in covering her own ass or even making a basic case here is almost to the point of frustrating me more than Alla's outright evil and deception. ["Which, in my opinion, Alla could have pointed out without all this nastiness. Why she went with this strategy instead of just repeating the phrase 'Felisha is a follower' is beyond me." -- Sars] Felisha spends most of the time, bizarrely, talking about how awesome Alla is, strong in "embracing" and "executing" her tasks, but "when it came down to the punchline, this was my task." This is funny, but none of the people in that room are ready to laugh about it.
Bill says he respects that Felisha stood up to Alla even the miniscule amount necessary to ask for the PM role, but Alla can't even let that one go: "Well actually, she totally pussy-footed around and tried to give that to me numerous times." Felisha finally gets mad, albeit in a kind of Melanie Griffith way: "Why must you steamroll? Be nice. Please?" Alla responds that Felisha is being a huge liar and needs to tell the whole and not the selective truth. Nobody knows what the hell she's talking about, including herself, and Trump ixnays it: "She's truthful." Carolyn points out how gross it is that Alla would interrupt Felisha in the middle of complimenting her in order to further attack her. "She speaks so kindly of you, and you're just killing her. If you'd left her alone she would have said I should fire her," Trump exaggerates slightly, and Felisha literally jumps, like she's been electrocuted or poked by a tiny needle where we can't see it. Carolyn asks if Felisha is giving up, and Felisha responds that she is "not giving up, at all!" Then shebursts into tears.