POW! Did you know Donald Trump loves New York? Did you know he would like to share it with you? Oh, good. In case you didn't, that news is the opener for the new season, as we watch footage designed to prove the following: New York contains buildings. New York contains the Statue of Liberty. New York contains trees, and in the fall, they turn different colors. New York has "lots and lots of energy." Man, who wrote this copy for Trump? "Lots and lots"? Couldn't cough up the word "unlimited," or "boundless," or "spectacular"? Pay a little to the writing staff, people. Big vocabularies and subject-verb agreement are worth every penny! Anyway, from inside the Trumpicopter, the man himself informs us that we already know everything about him, including how large he is. He is speaking as a developer, of course. Not that he doesn't undoubtedly claim to be large in many respects. Wow, didn't even finish the first paragraph without a dick joke. Hi, I'm your recapper, and I just got here directly from the gutter.
Anyway, Trump owns a honkload of mostly-obscure companies, and he's been having trouble finding anyone to run them, what with the declining enrollments in undergraduate bootlicking programs. In what I guess is supposed to be one of his many offices, Trump is telling someone that "success breeds success," or, as he likes to put it, "bankruptcy breeds bankruptcy." A couple of American flags wave to remind you, to the bottom of your patriotic heart, that this is the land where any dipshit can become a billionaire, as if that isn't the entire theme of the show, kind of like Lost reminding you that air travel is dangerous, or American Idol reminding you not to smoke crack. And then Trump tells us that he only hires the best. Or, in the case of this show, the least worst. We are reminded that originally, there was Boyfriend Bill. Oh, yay, Boyfriend Bill! I miss you more than ever. Just seeing how lovely you and Kwame were at the finale brings back the entire bad experience of the Kelly/Jen-off, and I just never want to think about that again. But -- ack! There's Kelly, looking as smug and oily as ever. Trump claims that Kelly has been doing a great job in the...month since he was hired...much of which was holidays...much of which hadn't happened yet whenever this was filmed...so I'm thinking this is actually footage of Kelly's first day. I'm surprised they left out the part where they glued his pens to the desk. (PENS, people. Read carefully.) Because isn't that what you would do if a guy from TV were brought to work in your office? Yeah, I thought so. Me, too. And then we see Kelly, incredibly awkwardly, say, "Thanks a lot, Paul, I really appreciate it." You can tell he worked for, like, ten minutes on that line. In front of the mirror. And sometimes, he had a finger-gun at the end. At least Boyfriend Bill tries to sound genuine, Kelly. Oh, and then "Paul" tells Kelly to say hi to Trump. As if Kelly will be calling Trump right after this to set up dinner together or a night of action movies at his apartment. Whatever, "Paul."
New York skyline and city porn goes by as Trump claims to be looking for a candidate who "can handle the pressure" that going to reality television events involves, and who can be "a creative thinker" in terms of dressing for the People's Choice Awards. "I'm looking for...the Apprentice!" Trump says, pointing into the camera in a way that he also worked on for ten minutes. This whole thing is just sad with a capital S. And a capital A and D, also. In fact, it's only a shame it's not a longer word. Skyline porn! Bomp-chicka!
An airplane lands. Trump explains that this is a sixteen-week (!) (up another week from last time, ACK!) job interview. And a young woman with a startlingly blank expression deplanes. She has a fuzzy pink sweater on, and I have a feeling that's about as tough as she gets. She's all about being embraced by her own stuff. Quentin Tarantino's Husky Brother comes through the airport with a suitcase. That Guy (Fraternity President Variation) approaches from another angle. Green Ruffles Girl walks purposefully. Guy Who Seems To Have Just Been Indicted ducks into a cab and away from the prying eyes of the press. African-American Woman We All Really, Really Hope Isn't "Crazy" approaches through the subway as Trump explains that (if you haven't heard) this season will pit "book smarts" against "street smarts" -- the college grads against the not. Listen for the part where Trump tells you that not one of the people on his "book smarts" team went to an Ivy League school, or any other traditionally hoity-toity school. Oh, right. It doesn't happen. Note that this does not mean I am saying these are not good schools, so don't send me that email. I'm saying that it's not as if they went and recruited from Harvard and Berkeley, and they've actually had more impressive academics in past seasons when that wasn't the whole point, so I don't know. If you want to see the real academic snotheads get whomped, you'll have to make your own show.
But anyway. That Guy (Secretary-Humping Variation) gets on a bus, telling the driver -- who totally cares, and isn't at all going to tell this story later with a lot of uses of the words "fucking" and "girly" -- that this is his first time in New York. Morticia Raspberrysuit comes strolling down the street with her little wheelie-case. That Guy (Self-Amusing Proud Oddball Variation) walks along with his...guitar on his back. Also African-American Woman We All Really, Really Hope Isn't A "Loose Cannon" comes at us, and I'm pretty sure I recognize LaGuardia from the signs. Oh, my travel habits, how they are crazy. Captain Bow Tie is coming to save us, fortunately. And his sidekick, Tweedy Suit Girl, will be there to help. Her superpowers include faxing.
And now, the people who Trump claims "learned the ropes by skipping college," which is kind of the diploma-case-half-empty approach. That Guy (Round, Jolly Variation) comes around a corner. Skinny Blonde Could've-Been-A-Standup-Comic Girl gets off the bus. African-American Guy We All Really, Really Hope Isn't "Intense" is in the subway as well. Generic Dark Hair is a woman on the move. Marcia Crosselganger rides in a taxi. That Guy (Heavily Moussed Variation) approaches! Pink Sweater Girl! And that's full circle, people. The Trumpicopter has to leave us now, so it deposits Trump on the roof, where he gives us that "yooge salary" line we've all been waiting for. Doesn't it feel like we just got this spiel, like, a week and a half ago? It does to me. Sigh. And yet again, he repeats the classic line, "So they too can become a billionaire someday," and now I just think they're teasing me. Not that seeing all of these people glom into one super-being who was, in fact, a billionaire wouldn't be hysterically funny. Because oh, yes, it would.
Trump Limo 3000ZX pulls up to Trump Tower, where a crowd is waiting and cheering as he gets out, just to keep the tone realistic for a serious business event like a job interview. Trump repeats again how much he loves New York City. He thinks, but does not say, "Especially the parts that are MINE, MINE, MINE!" Instead, he yells over the cheering that, here at Trump Tower, the 18 candidates will get their shot at greatness. Or, of course, their shots at life as former reality show contestants. More shots of all the people we just saw follow. Trump wonders, as he does, "Who will succeed? Who will fail? Who will be...the Apprentice?" Only this time, a whole crowd of people yells, "The Apprentice!" with him, because do you know what any freak show needs? More freaks!
Oh, the O-Jays, the merciful O-Jays. In the credits, we learn the following: African-American Woman With Braids is Verna. Secretary-Humper is Alex. Morticia Raspberrysuit is Erin. Quentin's Brother is Michael. Ruffles Girl is Stephanie. Frat President is Todd. Tweedy Suit Girl is Kendra. Guitar Guy is Danny. Bow-Tie Man is Bren. Skinny Blonde is Tana. Round and Jolly is John. Dark Hair is Kristen. Wait, Round and Jolly is actually Brian. I think John was Heavily Moussed. Marcia Crosselganger, who looks nothing like Marcia Cross except in that original taxi shot, is Angie. African-American Woman With Straight Hair is Tara. Wait, maybe Heavily Moussed was Chris. See, I'm all thrown off because Just-Been-Indicted Guy was hidden from me. Goddamn grand jury confidentiality. Pink Sweater Girl is Audrey. African-American Non-Intense Guy is Craig. I apologize for my poor job of explaining who all those people are. If they had given me more than an hour and a half to recover from the last season, it might have gone better. Thanks, scheduling monkeys, for keeping me mired in work. I didn't want to clean my apartment or anything.
Music from a video from the '80s plays as we return to...yes, the New York skyline. Because really, couldn't you look at it all day? At Trump Tower, the elevator doors open, and a guy I feel like I haven't seen up until now, either in the intro or in the credits, steps off. Man, I am in the weeds. Okay, he says he's Chris. That's kind of what I was thinking, although I'd be lying if I claimed I was sure. Robin tells him to put his suitcase aside and wait. Chris explains to us that he's only 21 years old, but he works with super-rich people. And he doesn't see failure as an option, because you can't very well allow yourself to fail when you work with the rich, now, can you? They'll have you killed by offering their lunch money to the violent who have fallen on hard times. Here comes Erin, who, Sars would note, does not walk well in those heels. "Clomp, clomp," her feet say. Others file in. Tana interviews that while she's "not one to prejudge," she definitely sees some losers among the other candidates. But not in a prejudging kind of way. And just as she says that some of them are not "Mr. Trump material," the doors open, and Danny and his ugly red leisure suit enter the lobby. (Not that there's any other kind of red leisure suit, really.) John explains that Danny apparently "marches to the beat of a different drummer, and apparently, that drummer loves polyester." Hee. The Crosselganger -- now back to looking kind of Crossy during this sequence -- eyes Danny with disgust. I feel you, Crosselganger. Bren tells us that he is that most delightful of things -- "a little man with a big mouth." The caption says he is a "prosecutor" as he explains to us that people will underestimate him and put their guard down, and then he will...swoop in, or file a motion in limine, or something. He looks meek, but at night, he becomes Litigatron.
In other news, Alex rubs his chin thoughtfully, or in a manner that would be thoughtful if he had more thoughts. Michael gives his opinion that some of the women are spoiled, and they all got lots of help from their daddies. Which apparently, he was able to conclude by looking at them. Interesting observation, there. I don't suppose Michael is going to turn out to be Fuck Fuck Fuck How Can All These Chicks Be Smarter Than I Am I Can Feel My Balls Shrinking By The Minute Guy or anything. Erin reminds us in an interview that she's "an intellectual." Which makes sense, because that's what they cast for, after all. That's why there's an essay test on Great Literature Other Than Vanity Fair. Erin further explains that she intends to prove that women can be "sexy and powerful." Considering her hair and blank expression, it isn't clear just how proving this has anything to do with her, but I'm willing to wait and see what she comes up with. ["I'm not: Shut up, Erin. Reverse sexism is so '89." -- Sars]
Trump calls for Robin, who sends the Apprenti in to meet with Trump. She directs the women to go in first and stay on the left (their left? Trump's left? She doesn't say), and the candidates file in. Todd informs us that all the people in the group are "sharks," and they want the same job he wants. Those sharks. He says it will come down to the Boardroom. Survival of the fittest! I can't wait. Maybe blood will be shed. Or the entire thing will switch over to a documentary about Galapagos turtles.
In the Boardroom, the candidates are stared down by Trump, George, and Carolyn. Carolyn's Brain: "Hmm. Fewer tube dresses than last time, although the off-the-shoulder green dust ruffle is unfortunate." Trump welcomes everyone to the "job interview." What's awesome is that rather than leading with how awesome George and Carolyn are when he introduces them, Trump focuses on how "very famous" they've gotten. Not that he doesn't also say they're "great executives." Because he does. And they are. But...did he mention how famous? Trump goes on to say that for the last two rounds, he pitted the men against the women in an effort to prove that all stereotypes are secretly accurate, because women are all about backstabbing and lying and pettiness, and that's before you marry them. (Kidding! Happy wedding! Hope you got a toaster!) This time, Trump is eschewing gender warfare in favor of class warfare. What he's doing is splitting them into two teams with "approximately the same IQ" who are "approximately the same age." What's the difference? Have we mentioned the "smarts" thing, because...yeah, I wasn't sure. We did, oh, good. Anyway, the "glaring difference" is that half of them have college degrees, and half have "only a high school diploma." LoopTrump tells us that both groups have been successful, but then we return to LiveTrump, who tells us that it turns out that the high school grads make three times as much money as the college grads. So Trump's plan is to see whether "practical experience is more important than academic knowledge." And this will be a great opportunity to learn exactly that. Welcome to America's referendum on the value of higher education.
Trump repeats last year's rule that the PM who wins will get an exemption (if necessary) the week. He promises them that they're "very talented and very smart," but tells them that there will be only one winner. I also love the part where he tells them they're going to be "living in hell." Well, the kind of hell with boom operators, a giant pretend apartment, and lots and lots and lots of the attention you've been craving since you were an infant licking the lens of your Mommy and Daddy's video camera. Trump wishes them luck and sends them up to the suite, and they take their leave. Brian interviews that he was excited about the division of the teams, because he believes in "street smarts" in business. I do not believe in his shapeless gray t-shirt. And what does Brian think will happen if you don't have "street smarts"? Why, you will fall victim to a terrible act of circus-related violence. At least I assume that's what Brian means when he says you'll be "cut by the juggler." You have to watch out for the clown, too. Mean bastard.
More skyline porn takes us back to Trump Tower, where the candidates are ready to check out the suite. It's a new pad, although we don't get a suite number for it, so I'll be calling it the Love Palace until told otherwise. The decorating scheme can be described as All Neutrals, All The Time, as it is a veritable hodgepodge of dark grays and browns, with beige thrown in just to make it a little flashy. They all say, "Nice, nice, nice," and "It's just beautiful," but what they're thinking is, "Could we not get, like, one red chair?" Tana directs everyone's attention to the "dream kitchen," so named because its checkerboard floor will show up in one of your nightmares anytime now. I can't believe anyone put that floor in a space that's going to be on TV, because I don't think I've ever seen anything so distracting to the eye. Tana interviews -- and her curvy eyebrows underscore -- that she loved the suite and "could get used to this lifestyle, really!" At the sight of the typical champagne/chocolate/caviar spread, Stephanie and some of the other women clap their hands in delight, because that's what you do when you can't think of words. Champagne is poured, a toast is shared. "Oooooh, shall we read the card?" Tana squeals. Man. Less squealing, please. The card they open says that first, they have to sort themselves into who has a college degree and who doesn't, and then they'll need to choose team names. Oh, team names. Always the best part of any premiere, and by "best," I mean "most demonstrative of fundamental incompetence."
Banter follows in which John asks whether, rather than referring to the non-college-educated as "high school," they can please be referred to as "the wealthier of the two groups." Oh, snap! Those entrepreneurs. You can't keep them down for a minute. Plucky! The collegians are shown looking irritated, although God only knows where those shots come from. Verna tells us that she can assure the high-school graduates with their big paychecks that "it's only going to stay that way for a quick minute." For she is Verna, and she rules all.
A bunch of the Street-Smartians meet up and discuss how they'll win because they have nothing to lose, and how they want to call themselves Net Worth, and there's just so much plot here that I can hardly stand it. John explains that if he gets beaten by a Harvard grad (not that there are any), he'll play it off as losing to a Harvard grad (who isn't here), but the Harvard grad (were there one present) would have to be much more embarrassed about losing to him. So in short, do you think John is naturally inferior because he lacks a college degree? Hey, he does, too!
Kristen explains to the group that she was planning on being a lawyer, and then she found out how much money they make, and she dropped out of school and moved to L.A. Now...I'm the first to tell you that you won't automatically get rich as a lawyer (God knows). But the idea of deciding you affirmatively can't be rich as a lawyer is stupid. If, as she says, "it's all about the money" (and how fucking sad is that?), then you can certainly make a lot of money as a lawyer. Especially if you like boxes and boxes of documents. This story just doesn't make any sense. Tara tells us in an interview that she wasn't so sure about this arrangement of teams until she learned that "the net worth of [her] team was three times greater than the net worth of the other team," and then she felt better. That's not what Trump said, of course -- he said "make three times as much money," which isn't the same as Net Worth, but...that's okay.
The Street-Smartians have a team meeting, and John lectures (who died and made him Papa Smurf, by the way?) that one of Trump's very own books says that hiring "attitude and experience" is sometimes the way to go, rather than education. He orders them to agree to a pact to "work [their] asses off together," and also to keep everything that's said in the Boardroom to the Boardroom, which I guarantee you? Will not happen. That isn't the way people are. But it's a nice thought. Brian busts out his set of orders, which are that he will tell everyone what he's upset about directly, and if they don't do the same and they surprise him in the Boardroom, he has only one piece of advice: "Buckle your chin strap." Because he's taking your ass mountain-biking, dickweed, and he's not kidding around.
Over at the Book-Smartians, Danny is suggesting that they all get titles, and he wants to be the CMO -- Chief Morale Officer. I shit you not. A bunch of the women cheer, because they are stupid. And then Danny yells, "UNBELIEVABLE!", which apparently he wants to make into a catch phrase, having narrowly chosen it over "We're GRRRRRRREAT!" Stephanie, whose occupation is listed as "Supply Chain Consultant" (whuh?), tells us that Danny was just great and energetic and made everyone happy and excited. And if you're in a bad mood, Danny will be there to perk you up. Unless you're in a bad mood because you want to beat the small intestines out of Danny, in which case his encouragement won't make you feel quite as awesome. And then we see him say "UNBELIEVABLE!" again. He must die. He tells us, in an interview in which he is wearing a raspberry shirt and light salmon jacket (lovely), that the rest of the candidates might not see him as a CEO, but that's only because they don't see all his experience in business. And, probably, because he's acting like he's on speed and alcohol and uppers and downers and Sudafed and baby aspirin and Pez straight from the Popeye head.
So now, it's time for the Book-Smartians to discuss a team name. Bren suggests "Shiznit," and as much as I don't like Erin, she does respond to that with exactly the "yeah, HILARIOUS" attitude it deserves. Someone suggests Einstein. Cornerstone? ("Too long, or something," Erin says.) Ronin? (Uh, "Ronin"?) Hmm, Victory, Legacy -- ah, Legacy! This one seems to be on track, until Danny mocks it with his guitar, and nothing can stand up to the guitar mocking, so obviously, that name is discarded. Or maybe it's because Danny likes it and is serenading it with his guitar. I can't tell. Either way, his guitar kills it dead. Verna interviews that Danny's idea to write a team song was kind of ass, which...it's going to be a very long season if everything Danny does that's ass gets called out in an interview, so I hope everyone is prepared to pace themselves. Someone suggests Diplomacy, which...is that a pun? Like, from diploma? They know "diplomacy" doesn't have anything to do with diplomas, at least in English, right? And then Stephanie says, "Magna." Which is possibly the worst team name ever, coming right behind "Mosaic." But they love it, and they're really tired of listening to Danny play the guitar, so that'll about do it. Alex explains, in case you didn't know, that "magna" comes from "magna cum laude," Latin for "second best." ["And I liked Alex, but I will point out again that, if you fling that term around, you'd better know how to pronounce it. 'Loud-eh' or 'loud-ay.' NOT 'LAWD.'" -- Sars] Which is just how they hope to finish. Oh, those smarties. Seriously, is there any reason you wouldn't call your team Summa instead? Doesn't this suggest that they don't know what "summa cum laude" is? Because it kind of seems like it does. Tragically, Danny apparently gets the rest of the team to participate in a chant of "UNBELIEVABLE!" before their meeting breaks up. This is going so, so badly. (And I think that marked the first of about six times that Miss Alli's Mom remarked, "That guy has got to go." She said it over and over again, like Rain Man. Danny has reduced my mother to incoherence. Jerk.) Oh, and then Danny's like, "Rock and roll, brutha!", and I want to die. And then they say "UNBELIEVABLE" again and I want to get hurt bad and suffer and then die.
The Street-Smartians overhear the celebrating from Magna, and Tara declares it "corny." With which I agree. John comments that his team might not be as "rah-rah" as the collegians, but he thinks Magna is "all show, no go." Yeah, I had that car once. They start in on a team name, and Tana doesn't want a "little pussy name." How about "Dreadnought"? She wants a "powerful bang name." Hee hee. She said "powerful bang." Brian suggests "Brass Balls, Inc." Which is great, unless, of course, you're a girl. I really wish one of the women had come back with "Tits of Steel." Brian goes on to tempt the departing Michael Powell by interviewing that "in business, you have to have balls. Big balls." For, you know, the powerful bang.
In the end, the stupid, boring, non-brass-balls-having, non-powerful-bang "Net Worth" returns, and that's the final name of the team. Yeah. Net Worth. I have to say, if we're judging the teams by their ability to name themselves, this is not promising. John runs down the list of people on his team, and it looks just as auspicious as the other team -- that is to say, not very. And someone is drinking Red Bull instead of champagne. That's an interesting choice. There is much hooting.
In one of the bedrooms, Magna is listening to Danny as he bores the shit out of everyone with his guitar. He explains in an interview that he wanted them all to "have some fun." This is part of his philosophy that "you have to work hard and play hard," and if anything says "play hard," it's sitting around a bedroom listening to a guy play the guitar badly. Dude, I played harder in college than I thought. Oh, and Michael is providing percussion by banging a pot with a wooden spoon. This is good, because even if they lose, they'll still have the jug band. Net Worth is overhearing all this, and as they listen with contempt from the living room, Kristen gives an interview in which she manages to make herself sound like a bigger asshole than the person currently playing the guitar in the bedroom and singing about his team, which is quite a feat. Anyway, she says this is apparently what they all did in college while she and her team were working, so that's why Net Worth has so much more money than the Book-Smartians. Whatever. Nice lavender jacket, not.
Mercifully, the Team Magna song finally ends. Let's all breathe again, shall we?
The morning, the Rhonaphone rings, and Angie runs to answer it. They're getting the call to meet Trump on the roof at Trump Tower at 9:00 AM. High fives are exchanged. With Danny. Who is, mercifully, not singing. thing you know, the teams are assembled on the roof, being met by Trump and the Viceroys. Trump, looking even more orange-haired than usual, asks them for the team names. "High school?" he asks, addressing them in a manner rather more asshole-ish than necessary. "Net Worth," Tara says. Trump asks how they came up with it, and Tara volleys back, in the great rhetorical tradition of VCR instructions, "Collectively, we have a high financial net worth." And then she goes on to yap about how they "defied the odds" and "persevered." Not sure how they automatically defied any odds just by avoiding higher education, but...okay. , Alex tells Trump that his team is called Magna Corp. He says they wanted a name that "encapsulated [their] educational achievements." Not that we know whether any of them actually graduated magna cum laude or not. But Trump claims to like that name, too. Actually, I would have liked it better if they had called the team "Encapsulate."
Trump explains that New York is "the fastest-paced place anywhere on earth." Time is money, blah blah blah. So fast food in New York is yooge. Which I'm sure is true, even though in fact, New York has so many other food options, including a lot of things you can eat standing up, that it seems to me that a place like McDonald's should actually be less significant in Manhattan than anywhere else, but...whatever. Trump says that for their first task, they'll be working with Burger King. Each team will take over a BK franchise and help launch one of six new burgers they're introducing. You pick the item, you name it, you market it, and then you manage the restaurant and sell it. And whoever "earns the most revenue from selling the new product" will win the task. Trump asks Magna how they'll do against a bunch of high-school graduates, and says he thinks they should have a big advantage. "Blow 'em out of the water," says Erin, only too happy to play along. Trump asks them if they'd be embarrassed if the high-schoolers "kicked [their] ass." Verna says she'd be embarrassed to be ass-kicked by anyone, not just high-school people. Well, seriously. Trump reminds them that whoever loses will meet him in the Boardroom for a firing. So that much hasn't changed.
Back at the Love Palace, the teams try to sound like they have some idea what they're doing. John tells us that he's worked at restaurants and designed restaurant "concepts," so he knows what he's doing. "So you're it, bud," says Audrey, making her first and last contribution to the episode. Chris interviews that they picked John for PM, based on his copious restaurant experience. In their meeting, John tells everyone to just raise a hand if they'd like to be called on. Ew. John hustles the team out of the L-Pal to see their chef, because you can't market what you don't know anything about, not that 90 percent of modern advertising seems to be aware of that fact.
Over at Magna, Alex interviews that it's awesome to have both of these teams go flip burgers, because of all the burger-flipping jokes related to one's education. Not sure how that's quite so great, but he seems to think it is, so...all right. They learn that Todd once ran a restaurant, so he's the obvious PM choice for them. Or so it seems. Bren, not even bothering to keep that distinctive bow tie particularly straight, explains that they made Todd the PM because "he'd ran a restaurant before." Not a degree in English, I guess. Danny promises Todd at their team meeting that "one of [his] strengths will be getting people in the door." By, presumably, chasing them away from all other available locations with his guitar. Stephanie says that she, too, is awesome at "sales and marketing," so there's that team set up. Bren tells us that Danny stepped up, and with great stepping up comes great responsibility. And you have to "put out." Hey. You never have to put out if you don't want to. Ask Focus on the Family. Well, actually, don't, because they're busy getting the gays to stop falling in love and getting married and mowing their lawns and making out to the glow of Spongebob Squarepants cartoons. (Might be a little too Focused on certain parts of the Family, if you ask me.) There is yet another team cheer. There is yet another "UNBELIEVABLE!" Verna looks ill. I start pulling clumps of hair out of my head.
The Trump motto of the week is "Perseverance." We watch him negotiate a deal involving $250,000, so he's apparently negotiating the price of dinner or something.
Net Worth is at the Manhattan BK office, where the chef is explaining about the new burger that has onion rings on top. Now, some of the EEFPs expressed surprise at the idea of putting onion rings on top of a burger, but I have to say, I see that all the time. The room service cheeseburgers that the Couch Baron and I recently enjoyed while I was in New York staying at the charming Marriott Brooklyn Bridge (highly recommended!) had onion rings on them. ["It's a burger staple at Jersey diners." -- Sars] Kristen rejects several other burgers on the basis that nobody likes jalapeno peppers, the cheese one has too much cheese, another one is actually a piece of chicken pretending to be a burger...so they go with the onion-ring one, known as the "Western Angus."
Magna reviews the burgers, and Verna says that based on her experience as a fast-food-scarfing consumer (hee), she would frankly go with the three-cheese. Which also has bacon, which is nice. Danny informs us that they went with this burger based on Verna's verdict of, and I quote, "[tongue click] Right on." He so exhausts me already. Todd tells the team that now that they know what they're doing, he wants to send Stephanie and Danny off to work on marketing. He sends them to BK headquarters for a meeting. A meeting, that is, that we are all happy not to be attending.
And then Alex, who is working as the "restaurant manager," explains how he's organizing the staff, including Verna and Erin on cash register duty. Yep, only two of them. "At this point, what I'd like to do is start training," Todd says. By which he means that he would like everyone else to start training. He's going to be off scratching his head and making Smart Faces for the camera. String music kicks in as we watch Bren learn to make a Whopper Junior, because seriously, that is some touching ketchup application. And then we get a great shot of the cash register, which is awesome, because it has a button that says, "REDUCE FATMAY." I don't know why that makes me giggle, but it does. I do believe that the amount of FATMAY in the universe could stand to be reduced. While Erin is being trained for customer service, the trainer tells her not to put her hand on her hip. Like, you know, a bitch. Heh. Verna interviews with some exasperation that she doesn't think Erin's ever even visited a fast-food restaurant. I think that may be disturbingly close to accurate. Erin is indeed rather flummoxed by the cash register, and there's a great shot of George and Carolyn watching with amusement as these clowns try to master a task they undoubtedly find rather beneath their dignity. George tells us that he used to be a soda jerk, back in the day. Aw, George. You're no kind of jerk. It's why you don't fit in on this show.
Trouble begins to brew, though, as Alex tells us that Todd was kind of chilling in a booth, "collecting his thoughts," not getting any training himself on the prep or sales side. Alex tries to talk to Todd, but Todd's doing "notes." Oh, notes. The bugaboo of actual work. Alex thinks that Todd isn't managing enough, and is "not on the same playing field with the rest of the team." A shot of Todd thinking really hard follows. And as his brain attempts to heat up, if you listen carefully, you can hear something that sounds like wind whistling through an empty soup can.
Over at Net Worth, John is suggesting that if they're selling a Western burger, they make "Wanted: Dead or Alive" posters. He wants Tara to find a place to do cheap flyers. Brian tells us that he thinks John's doing very well as PM. Well, sure. He's got the balls. John also tells the team he thinks they should give something away as a promotion, and Tana suggests two tickets to Vegas. John goes for it, so at 3:00 tomorrow afternoon, it will be prize time.
Brian, Kristen, Angie, and Tara head out to, as Brian explains, "buy balloons and cowboy costumes." And why? Because he knows what things cost. Because he used to own a dollar store. For some reason, that made me laugh hysterically. "I know what things cost. That costs...a dollar. And that? Oh, also a dollar." At the dollar-like store they find, Brian asks for "bagged cowboy suits." Who knew? But there they are, the bagged cowboy suits. They buy a bunch of stuff, including balloons and bandannas and whatnot, and it all comes to just under $200. And even though it kind of has nothing to do with anything, Brian wants the guy to throw in a plastic Viking hat. Just because. Angie, in an interview, seems impressed that the guy threw in the Viking hat for nothing. Brian is a great negotiator, provided the booty he wants is worth about twelve cents. "Now that's negotiation, baby!" he yells as he's leaving. Yeah. You really scored on that one, dude. Kristen is totally disgusted in her interview, because they're here to do a job, and you can't do a job if you like plastic Viking hats. She is no fun at all. "If that's why you're here, you're not going to be here for very long," she snots. I don't think he would go so far as to say he's here because of the plastic Viking hat. The plastic Viking hat is a bonus. As random Viking hats usually are.
Elsewhere, Danny and Stephanie go to meet with the BK guy to talk about marketing. They talk about the triple-cheese burger, and the BK guy is a little sad that they don't have a name for it other than "triple-cheese Angus steak burger." And then the guy asks, "Who's your customer?" And Danny has no answer. Now, dude. I know about as much about marketing as I do about jai-alai, and I would have had some answer to "Who's your customer?" before I met with the VP of product development. This is basically what Stephanie says in an interview -- she thinks they just weren't ready to do this meeting at the time they did it, so it went kind of badly. Danny waffles about how they haven't had the chance to do as much market research as they'd like, and so forth. Danny also says that the slogan they're currently thinking of is, "Just Say Cheese." Which has some promise, I think. "That...that could be okay," says the BK guy with absolutely no enthusiasm. He calls his "certainly a straight-ahead concept," which is kind of like telling people that their concept has a good personality. Danny gets up to leave the meeting, and Stephanie voices over that the plan originally was to do a red-carpet-style thing, where you'd get a picture taken with the "Just Say Cheese" thing. Not too bad. Cute. But as they sit around, Danny apparently decides that he's dissatisfied after the meeting. So they go back to the drawing board. "He nixed the entire 'Just Say Cheese' campaign," Stephanie says, in one of the early classic lines of the season. I am totally using that on, like, a bank teller. Just in the middle of a normal conversation.
Danny and Stephanie brain-"storm." "Triple...something," she offers. "Trifecta!" Danny says with relish. "Let's think about the circus -- hey! Three-ring circus!" she says. Danny thinks the circus is dull. He should see himself playing the guitar. Stephanie complains that he basically shrugged off every suggestion she offered. She finally says, with obvious (and justified) sarcasm, "How about 'Win a Date With Danny'?" Well, seriously. They talk to Todd, who asks whether they need help, and they say no. Todd asks them for a timeline, and interviews that Danny has already been "very hard to rein in." He asks them whether they've started on anything yet, and Danny pretty much blows him off and hangs up. Todd does not look pleased. You have displeased Todd!
Now, Net Worth meets with the BK VP. They share their "Wanted: Dead or Alive" idea, and says they're giving away the trip. "And you're able to fund that?" the guy asks. "Absolutely," John says confidently. As if to underscore this, they call a person I guess is a travel agent, directly from the VP's office. It sounds like the guy quotes Tana a price of $201, which I assume has to be per ticket? Or something? Anyway, she finds out that he'll be "open" until 10:00 PM, so they can come pick up the tickets. We then follow Kristen and Tana on this little trip, and it turns out that the travel agent works out of his apartment, where he lives with his little dog. Kristen disapproves of buying things out of people's apartments. And...yeah, maybe, but with plane tickets...I mean, I buy all my plane tickets out of my own apartment at this point. Why couldn't I buy them from someone else's? Now, the part where the dog pees on Tana's foot, I'm a little more sympathetic about. Because that's no fun. I think they're happy to leave.
Danny and Stephanie are in the weeds, marketing-wise. Danny tells us that he's "the out-of-the-box guy," and he's looking for something great, and he always pushes himself, blah blah blah. He comes up with the words "Triple Play," and then they call Todd to tell him that the theme will be baseball, around the idea of a triple play. Todd loves it. He interviews that he put his faith in Danny and Stephanie, and they ultimately delivered. Or at least they delivered something. And Todd thinks the triple play is "a brilliant concept." Listen. Listen! Hear it? Todd's head: "[Faint whistle.]"
Todd then conducts a meeting at the BK, voicing over that the team is very united right now, and they're all working to win the task. And believe it or not, there's another team cheer. Of "UNBELIEVABLE!" I'm starting to understand how crowds used to do things like set hunchbacks' mansions on fire.
Net Worth holds a meeting with the existing staff of the BK, and John starts with what I think is a pretty good line of discussion by asking how many of the crew members have graduated from college. Predictably, none. "Well, guess what. None of us have, either," he says. He gives a pep talk about how they have to kick the asses of the "doctorate, MBA, Harvard, crazy education" (not) types who are working down the street. He says they'll have some fun proving that the smarty-pants types aren't as smart as they think.
Erin opens her register, and guess what? Hands on the hips! Just like she was told not to do. She absorbs everything. And nothing. Anyway, she says to the first guy, "I bet you're here to try our triple-cheese Angus steak burger, right?" "No," he says. "Whopper and [something]." It sounds like he says "toast," but I'm pretty sure they don't serve toast at Burger King. Maybe I'm wrong. Several people come in and don't order the triple-cheese, but finally someone does. And when he does, they all cheer and blow a whistle and stuff. Wow, that would completely freak me out and annoy me, I think. I don't think I'm in favor of being shrieked at while ordering. It makes me nervous. Alex says that as of this point, they were "feeling optimistic." But then he looked over at the promotional scheme. Now, if you've ever been to a junior-high carnival, you know basically what this looks like. Danny and Stephanie are out on the sidewalk, and they have a big piece of cardboard set up with a hole in it, and you're supposed to throw the ball through the hole. And it looks just that sophisticated. Also, Danny is walking around with his guitar. It isn't clear what you get if you put the ball through the hole, or why you'd want to do this. Alex describes himself as "horrified." He thinks the whole thing "looks like a bunch of drunk hippies." Not a bad description, sad as it is. Carolyn, too, is watching with some evident horror. "This is sad," she says. "This is very sad." Kendra interviews that she thinks that when Todd saw how shitty the promotion outside was, he should have had another plan, or intervened, or something. Because it's that bad. It really is. "Come on now, and try it," Danny sings. Twice. Wow, what compelling lyrics. I haven't heard their equal since "This ever-changing world in which we live in."
Net Worth, however, has Tara outside in a cowboy costume, and they have better-looking signs, and she's bringing George through the front door. Inside, Tana is telling a guy that for the price of a Whopper Junior, he can get the Western instead. He tells her no, but she pushes a little bit, telling him he's getting free cheese, and he caves. I have to say, it may have worked in this situation, but I hate that shit. If you offer me something and I say no and ask for something else, the minute you try again to get me back to the thing you want me to want, instead of the thing I want, is the moment I give up on you forever. It does make George laugh. John says that the chicks were great burger-movers. Well, you know women and retail. As the box of entries for the drawing fills up, Angie explains that because they're the high-school scrappers, they've all had these jobs before. "Nothing's beneath us," she says. Well...my sister worked at McDonald's for three years in high school, and she's a college graduate. I'm not sure all of the correlations being drawn here are quite as deadly accurate as they're being portrayed.
At Magna, the lunch rush is on, and they are not prepared. For whatever reason, they only are running two cash registers, although it looks like there are more than that. Also, Erin is slow, because cash registers with buttons labeled things like "Whopper" take a while to master. Alex comments that the way Todd was just milling around because he wasn't trained was a little unfortunate. And then we see a woman leaving the restaurant on the basis that, as she says, "Service is too slow." That's not good news. Todd looks tense.
Net Worth does the trip drawing, and the guy who wins looks a little underwhelmed. Maybe he doesn't like Vegas. Brian, also in a cowboy outfit, congratulates him. Tara says she'll be surprised if they don't win, but she doesn't believe in the chicken-counting. A good approach. She says it's "up for grabs."
Later that night, the candidates enter the Boardroom to get the results report. Enter the Trump. He talks about this being the "first battle." And then he mentions "book smarts" and "street smarts" again, as if you just can't get enough. Which I guess you perhaps can't. I, on the other hand, have plenty already. George reports that Magna sold 139 units, for revenues of $553.22. Carolyn reports that Net Worth sold 182 units, for a total of $596.96. Fortunately, the money spent on the promotion apparently doesn't count, so the fact that Net Worth spent $400 on plane tickets doesn't ding them. Which seems a little weird, but then I guess that depends on what you're trying to measure. Anyway, Net Worth gets the win, and Trump has to give the "geniuses beaten by high schoolers" line, and he reminds John of week's exemption. Trump says, "I'm a great believer in education, but I may have to start reassessing based on this performance." Yeah. It is pretty much an indictment of the concept of college. Anyway, Net Worth did sell about 30 percent more than Magna, so it's no small victory, in terms of the straight numbers they were apparently judged on. Although they only won revenue by about 8 percent, so not that big on that side. Magna, among other things, chose a more expensive burger. Smart? Dumb? Hard to say. Had they sold about 11 or 12 more burgers, they'd have won on revenue, so you've got to think they're sweating those cash registers that weren't open. (Miss Alli's friend Writer Guy: "Well, what do you expect? It's Burger King. The non-college-graduates are in their natural habitat.")
At any rate, Trump says that Net Worth will be going to the Twenty-One Club for dinner, and they'll be visiting the vaults, and Trump is apparently coming along. And Magna? You are headed for the Boardroom.
Later, Net Worth meets up with Trump and Melania at the club, and they're taken inside. Tara explains that they went to this slick place for their reward, and it was "an amazing experience." They take a tour of the old wine cellar, including the long skewer-slash-key that had to be used to get in during Prohibition. Trump leads them in, and that's where dinner is set up. Trump praises them for their victory, claims not to have been surprised, and congratulates John on his good leadership. John interviews that he was incredibly excited when Trump said he did well and reached out and shook his hand. Brian asks Trump about a story that has been previously semi-debunked on Snopes (though not as firmly as many things are debunked, in fairness) about Trump receiving roadside assistance from a couple of strangers and then paying off their mortgage as a thank-you. Is this story true? Brian wants to know. Trump says calmly that it is true. It's certainly not outside the realm of possibility, I guess, but it's weird that he would really do it after similar legends popped up about other celebrities. And really, it's not like there's anyone out there who could prove it isn't true, you know? I remain a little skeptical, unlike Brian, who says, "That is fucking awesome." Believe it or not, I would know enough not to swear in that situation, though, even though I have kind of a potty mouth at times. Your Boss Must Use The F-Word First is kind of a basic rule of business. Brian insists that this (the story about the couple, not the fact that Trump hasn't yet used the F-word) proves Trump is "a great man who believes in good karma." In other words, a great man who helps others in order to ultimately, by the balance of the universe, benefit himself. And that, certainly, I would go along with. Because isn't that what it's all about? Damn, I love spiritual capitalism. Brian continues to bluster about how at least none of them will be the first fired. As if that's the only looming humiliation.
Magna has a pre-Boardroom meeting in which Todd claims that "all the frustrations stem from the marketing/advertising." Which is fine, but...dude. Lines out the door? Idle registers? That wasn't frustrating at all? Danny, despite the fact that I still can't stand him, makes basically this point, asking what it means when they're getting people into the restaurant, and the people are leaving. Danny interviews that Todd was already unhappy about his work, and Todd interfered with Erin's happy-dippy idea for them to "regroup." I love these people who think they can do this with a totally warm, go-team spirit. Because you really can't, and it's always fun when their hopes are dashed. Because Trump's going to ask you whom you would fire, and you're going to have to answer. It won't work not to. Anyway, Danny accuses Todd of "a complete misperception of reality." Todd goes on to say that his frustrations with Danny in the task were "super-huge." He really is from a fraternity. Todd goes on to point out that Danny was basically unable to make any decisions about anything they asked him to work on, and this was a major problem. In a really weird clip, Danny tells us, sounding close to tears at times, that he was "the 'unbelievable' guy," as if that's a positive thing, and he was "the corporate cheerleader," and now they were accusing him of "being a traitor." A traitor? No. You just sucked. Bren offers some kind of a platitude I can only half-understand, because he says it in Southern.
More New York porn transitions us to the daytime hours, in which Todd is explaining to Alex that he's going to be bringing him to the final table, on the basis that he thinks Alex blew it on the production side, presumably on the staffing issue. Although he says "upselling," an expression that isn't entirely clear to me, but one that I think just means "selling," in this case. Alex tells Todd that he thinks Danny was a problem, but Todd failed to control him. "I don't know who's worse, Danny or Todd," Alex says. "Todd is a terrible leader. Danny is a steamroller with a drunk driver at the helm." Well...nice metaphor, except...is Danny his own drunk driver? Or is Todd the drunk driver? It's a short exercise in figures of speech, there, Alex. You don't want to be losing people in the middle. Todd assures Alex that Alex won't go anyway -- it will be him or Danny. They shake on it. Elsewhere, Stephanie and Danny have a chat in which she says that she thinks they did great with the marketing, and the claims that they didn't are a crock. "You and I did not lose this on marketing," she says. Danny says that Stephanie is smart, and she knows the marketing was successful (snerk), so only Todd remains to take the blame. Only Todd! Todd sucks! Marketing rules! The world belongs to those who make math jokes!
And then...the Uggs. Oh, Erin's Uggs. She's wearing a green minidress that is already very, very disturbing, and she's got it paired with brown Uggs as she flops face-first onto the foot of the bed where Todd is hanging out. She tells him she doesn't want to "harm" anyone on the team. He sympathizes with her desire to be positive. He does not share it, though. She interviews that "emotions are running so high." After, you know, the three days in which they've all bonded. And...and...then there's this interview, where Erin is wearing a...pink blanket? Bath mat? Horse cozy? I have no idea. Whatever it is, it's very, very furry and unfortunate. Erin just doesn't want to participate in the hurting. No hurting! But the hurting is inevitable, so you might as well throw yourself into it. To wit, the team picks up its luggage and heads for the Boardroom, as the distinctive music plays.
Ding! They get off the elevator, and Robin sends them in to see the Viceroys and Trump. Once Trump is seated, he berates them again for losing to high-school people. Alex says he's embarrassed, irrespective of who beat them. They can try to keep that up, but Trump isn't going to hear it. He returns again to how he himself went to college, and now he thinks it might have been for nothing, based on...you know, a day at Burger King, because isn't that what your degree in philosophy is supposed to help you with? Todd says he didn't. Asked what his strategy was, Todd says he divided the team into restaurant on one side and marketing/promotion on the other. Trump asks about the cash register problem, known to higher mortals as "point of sale." George points out that the other team had three people trained on point of sale, but actually, according to Brian, they had four, I think. Four of the women. Isn't that right? Maybe I'll go back and check. Anyway, George says the whole team "should be ashamed" that they blew it at the cash register. Yeah, I kind of agree. A pretty stupid way to lose what's supposed to be a marketing task. Carolyn, asked about how the team did, says she thinks "the promotion was horrific." Hee. "I have never seen a worse promotion, ever." Snerk. I'm not sure I have either, actually. With the guitar and everything? Man. Yeah, that hurt. George says he couldn't tell from the promotion what they were selling, or what throwing the ball had to do with anything. He asks how people on the street were supposed to know what was going on. Danny insists that it doesn't matter, because he was only supposed to get people's attention. Carolyn points out that that's not really right -- he's supposed to be getting people to buy a particular item, not to just come in the door because he gets their attention or obstructs the sidewalk or scares the shit out of them or whatever the hell he was doing.
Todd, sensing an opening, says that "Danny's inability to make timely, effective decisions..." But Trump jumps in, wondering why Todd is blaming Danny when he himself was in charge. Todd stammers that he doesn't entirely blame Danny. Apropos of nothing, Trump then asks Todd what he thinks of how Danny dresses. Todd says that he thinks it's "stylish," but not effective, necessarily. Todd says that in a company like Trump's, it wouldn't fly. Danny jumps in to argue that "it's all about character," meaning that he has definitely never met Trump or anyone Trump works with. "You don't want clones!" Danny says dismissively in support of the way he dresses. Carolyn's face twists into a smile. "Hold it, hold it," George says. "Do you think I'm a clone?" Hee. You are no clone, George. You are the unique granddaddy of competitive business jackassery, in the best way. Trump makes George shut up. Trump asks Danny whether the way he dresses is "a disadvantage" in a corporate environment. Danny insists that he works with all kinds of big companies, and it doesn't matter how he dresses. He connects with them for marketing expertise and "branding" and stuff, whatever that means. "Branding" is really one of my least favorite terms. Unless I'm burning my initials into an obnoxious person's arm. Verna is asked whether Danny's at a disadvantage, and she hasn't yet seen him display the goods to overcome that disadvantage. Trump then asks Erin why she's not talking. He's heard she's a lawyer, and she likes suing men. She claims, of course, that she will sue anyone. That's always flattering. Erin says she loves, personally, how Danny dresses, but she doesn't indulge her personal wish to "wear head-to-toe pink" all the time (ew), so she's not sure he can be all Scruffy Guy and get away with it. Verna is the first to actually be asked whom she'd fire, and she chooses Danny. She didn't think the marketing was good enough. Asked whom he'd fire, Danny offers up Todd, saying that the problem was obviously the lack of training for people, not the marketing. And he has a point in the sense that even if he didn't send in enough people, it wouldn't have done much good to send in more people whom the restaurant couldn't accommodate anyway.
Stephanie, in spite of their earlier conversation, offers up Danny's head. Oooh, traitor? Danny is surprised, saying that they worked on the same team all day. Danny asks Stephanie whether they collaborated or not, and Stephanie says that essentially, he blew off her ideas. Bren says he'd fire Danny, but Kendra says she'd fire Todd, basically for failing to handle Danny. Carolyn looks pleased. Alex says he'd fire Danny, because he's not sure that Danny is manageable. Trump challenges Danny on whether he's "difficult to manage." Danny denies it. He says he listened to everyone and took advice. But now, it's time for Todd to pick two people to come back with him. He picks Alex and Danny. The rest of the crew gets sent upstairs safely, and Alex, Danny, and Todd adjourn to the lobby.
Inside the Boardroom, George tells Trump that Danny is indeed kind of a nut, but frankly, he's not the reason they lost this one. They lost this one at the cash registers, and George rests that one on Todd. Carolyn basically agrees, saying that the team obviously decided to gang up on Danny, and she's happy that Kendra didn't go along, but focused the responsibility back on Todd. He calls for the three remaining candidates to be called in.
The first question Trump asks Todd is why he brought Alex. Todd says that he put Alex in charge of restaurant management, and that was where the decision to train only two people for cash registers was made. Trump asks if it isn't fair to say they should have trained everybody on point of sale, and Todd agrees. And it was Alex, they explain, who made that call. Trump tells Alex that this is not good news, because he was thinking Alex wasn't really at fault, but now, he thinks it was. Alex tries to shift the thing back to Todd, but now Trump isn't happy with either of them. He asks Todd whether he thinks Alex did a good job, and Todd says that he thinks Alex was good except for the major mistake of understaffing the front lines. George, however, counters that it was Todd's job to know something that significant, and you can't delegate that kind of decision. Todd nods. Because Todd is being schooled by George, and he's trying to look like he's smart and not just a weasel.
Trump returns to Danny, saying that he's looking safer and safer by the minute. Todd jumps in to say that Danny was "uncontrollable," and Trump tries to be all, "Well, you didn't control him," but I'm really not that sure how much more Todd could have done. ["From what we saw, he did…nothing. Didn't give Danny a deadline or boundaries of any kind, didn't require status reports…not that any of that would have worked, but it was never attempted. There's a difference between delegating and abdicating." -- Sars] "Todd, you couldn't manage him," Trump says. Trump then returns to Alex, berating him for doing "a lousy job." Trump is warming up for the boot, and he goes after Todd for not training enough people, and Danny for being "a total disaster," but in the end, he returns to Todd. No leadership, no controlling Danny or helping Alex. "You're fired." He sends them out.
As Todd makes his sad exit, Trump and the Viceroys talk about Todd being "a bad leader," and Carolyn says that "Danny was a convenient scapegoat for everybody." Todd gets in the cab and leaves. Farewell, Todd. I am sad that you never answered the phone shirtless, I think.
In his taxi interview, Todd says that this wasn't exactly the outcome he was looking for. "Really, really bummed" is his description. He says he overdelegated, and he was "hung out to dry" by Danny, who didn't do well. But he wishes everyone luck, except for Danny, of course. And then he begs for a job, if anyone happens to be hiring. Ow.
week: Fighting! Yelling! Motel renovations! Someone walking off the job! Trump being in a new position! I just can't wait. I mean, I can, but they chose not to give me more than five damn minutes between seasons, so there's no waiting, I suppose.