Tarek heads into the suite sighing and grateful for the reprieve, as the entire group collectively gets weird and culty and relieved. They've got palm fronds waving and he's riding the ass of his own specialness and they're singing hosannas and throwing down rose petals on the berber and Bryce grabs him and holds him up to the sun, like Simba or a pre-rhino Jennifer Grey. Brent runs around in shorts looking gross, looking for someone to hug, and Tarek is just trying to keep it together in the face of this madness. Tarek tries to explain that he was "this close" and that the only think that saved him was Summer's idiocy, but they're like, "What? Can't hear you. Blinded by the greatness." It's telling that this display somehow makes Tarek the most sympathetic person in the suite: "I'm not going to tell Trump he was wrong for calling me out. Second place is first in a long line of losers, right?" Well, he's still kind of a dick, because I really hate it when they're like, "I'm not gonna tell Trump how to do his job, but..." and also because: What a winning attitude, my friend! I think you get further by trying to win, not by trying not to lose. If you take my meaning. Which is basically what he's saying, but I think he's standing on the wrong side of it. Credits, which Stacy seems to think are hilarious. "I think I like her a lot," say my notes. This should be interesting.
Hanging out on some street corner, as they do, the group welcomes Trump, Bill, and Trump's daughter Ivanka. Bill's hair: What color is it? It's so mysterious. Trump calls Ivanka "a true apprentice," and Tarek smiles, because what better way to prove how classy and smart and successful you are than by hitting on Donald Trump's daughter? As long as somebody sees you do it, it means something. Ivanka went to Wharton, so insert the usual Trumping about Wharton, and then...Ivanka's a funny little thing. She doesn't look smart, or all that pretty, at rest. She has the Paris Hilton face where it's just this tiny mouth on a dumb-looking mask of nothing. But then when she speaks, everything changes, and she becomes beautiful and sexy and smart and cool. Well, that sounds mean, and I don't mean to be rude, because I think she's really cool. Like Miu Von Furstenburg levels of cool. I just mean -- you know Trump's face when he's not talking? How it shuts off and he looks like a cadaver, or a stuffed toad on a bookshelf? She has that problem too, only when he talks, he turns into Trump, and when Ivanka talks, she turns into awesome.
Listen up, because I think Trump's having a paradigm shift: "Even though we're outside, people are still getting their work done...by Text Messaging." You can hear the capital letters. We cut through a bunch of suits tapping away on their Sidekicks. Everyone involved smiles indulgently as Trump explains -- in fucking depth -- how text messaging works. He ends the ridiculous speech by admitting that everybody on earth is familiar with the concept, except for him, who has never heard of it before. It's very cute, or maybe I just miss George this week. But also, I can see him not knowing that, because can you imagine him actually doing work? Without a huge oak desk and Miss Universe all slatternly in the corner and a ten-line phone he can pretend to yell at people on? So then we learn about Gillette, who has been making razors for a hundred years, and of course Trump uses them, like every second of the day, and of course Trump loves them, like he's actually married to one. Other things Trump has never heard of: multiple-blade razor "systems," women shaving, or cell phones. He makes a weird, nonsensical "joke" about how men and women can use the five-blade razor "system," but women can only use it on their legs, but not their faces, but maybe their faces, because who knows what women do, or something. As if women exist when you're not looking at them. But then, it's not like you bring your trick to watch you get the Brazil, you know -- although I assume there are cases -- so why should he know anything? His women probably arrive in those dry-cleaner bags. "I had no idea grown women had pubic hair and used text messaging out in the open like that. I have not seen that before. It kind of makes me want to throw up, if I'm being honest." Each team will choose one keyword, so that people can text those to a number, and then receive annoying, stupid messages to their phones all the time about what's going on with Gillette. Whichever team's keyword is texted to Gillette the most times wins.
“ All we've seen from Brent is a real willingness to tell us, and the team, over and over how awesome he is without backing it up at all, because how could he find the time to do that, when he's so busy telling us what he's going to tell us one day that is so amazing? ”
Showtime, Synergy. Pepi has volunteered as PM and thinks "it's going to be a great task," but I don't know why that would be. It sounds like a shit task. Everything sucky about sales, none of the fun marketing stuff: just harassing people on the street in New York City and asking them to text message somebody they don't care about to get useless updates on a product they don't care about either. Didn't they have a lemonade stand one, once? This is like that, only instead of a lemonade stand, it's a vinegar smell-test. "Which is more irritating a scent?" He asks his team what they think might make people stop, and I think the answer is: outright lying. "Text Gillette and enter this contest." Michael makes the very good point that there are two demographics at play, the ones that use text messaging and the ones that don't, so they have to be smart about location and harassees. Brent tries to tell them all something stupid, but Stacy rudely interrupts him, trying to finish the sentence she was in the middle of when he had his brilliant fucking brainstorm. What a bitch. The team attempts to discuss the task, and Brent continues to yell about "I have a couple of ideas, I have a couple of ideas," but doesn't have the basics necessary to wait for an opening and just say them. Basic reading-the-room skills kind of come with the territory. Stacy interviews us that she "can't imagine how somebody gets anywhere with zero skills, zero ability to make a decision, and who constantly has to be the center of attention." I cannot disagree with any of that. All we've seen from Brent is a real willingness to tell us, and the team, over and over how awesome he is without backing it up at all, because how could he find the time to do that, when he's so busy telling us what he's going to tell us one day that is so amazing? Everybody's getting annoyed, and yeah, he has a point that they're ignoring him, but they're ignoring him because he's not saying anything, and he's not playing by the rules, so it's kind of a zero sum.
Quick Quiz: Nobody will listen to your great idea! Do you:
A. Preface it over and over into the space over the table, interrupting everyone else without actually saying anything worthwhile?
B. Address one person by name with the gist of your idea?
C. Continually stray from the topic and say over and over again how great your idea is and how rude everyone is to not listen to your idea, which you have still not mentioned?
D. Take note of how nobody else seems to have this problem, because they're all getting along just fine in life, and wonder why this is the case?
E. Take note of how nobody else seems to have this problem, because they're all getting along just fine, and assume that, yet again, the entire world is against you, because you're just such a fucking victim, so you better start screaming about nothing, repetitively?
F. Choose one person at random, decide that they have it out for you, and then attempt to dress them down publicly even though the whole group hates you and is doing the same thing? And then switch to somebody else? And then somebody else?
Answer Key: Optimally, D followed by B. If you're Brent, everything but.
“ But on the other hand: the fuck you're going to take me out of the room and lecture me about my interpersonal skills when you smell like cheese and everybody hates you. ”
As Brent interrupts the entire process over and over, rambling about some "guy with shaving cream on his face," everyone laughs openly at him. Due to his weird focus on Stacy, Roxanne puts her arms around her, and we're back to last week's team-building exercise, with Brent as the self-selected scapegoat. Brent attempts badly to kiss Pepi's ass, throws pens around, refuses to stop even though Stacy asks him politely, and interviews, sickeningly, hands aflutter: "My team doesn't know how to handle me! I stand out from the crowd! That's the way it's been my whole life!"
Hold It Right The Fuck There Quiz! How old are you?
A. Five years or younger.
B. Other.
Answer Key: That's what I thought. Nonconformity is one thing, but being conscious of the fact that at no point has anybody put up with your bullshit? In your entire life? And somehow that's not your problem, but in fact the problem of everyone else in the world? That's the definition of actually crazy. That's "everybody else is a robot" thinking at its finest. He has no business being here anyway, except as an object lesson in the fact that no matter who you are, in the corporate world, your boss is going to be a Brent-Omarosa-Michael Scott-Gervais with no concept of time or space or social interaction. Which is good TV, so it's good for us, but it's really, really sad for Brent.
Brent officiously takes Stacy out of the room into the hall, and yells at her about how she has to stop interrupting him, because he's brilliant and she's nothing. She, of course, tries to get back into the room so she can get to work, instead of getting the finger in the face and the crazy unloading of a bunch of shit that really has nothing to do with her, and he won't let her back into the room. She finally ducks under his arm and asks for "some team support." On the one hand, this is a nice way of using the rest of the team's exasperation to get him out of her face, and it's kind of bitchy, because I'm sure he's had at least one good idea and hasn't been able to get it out, because they are kind of ignoring him out of habit at this point. But on the other hand: the fuck you're going to take me out of the room and lecture me about my interpersonal skills when you smell like cheese and everybody hates you. You want us all to play the roles in this thing you've set up where the whole world is against you because you're just this secretly wonderful Harry Potter wizard that requires only the magical touch of Donald Trump so everybody will recognize and bow down to your brilliance? I'll do the first part, motherfucker, but the rest is up to you. She tells them about the finger in the face and the fact that he got all up in her personal space, and then interviews that she wants him "out of here," totally pissed.