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The task this week takes the teams to Staples, where they're told to come up with a design to eliminate clutter. Kendra, Tana, and an increasingly obnoxious Craig come up with a rotating desk caddy that looks a hell of a lot like a lot of other rotating desk caddies, but they pull it off relatively well. Over at Magna, Alex and Bren demonstrate that they have never worked in normal office environments, ever, by concluding that what a person with a messy desk needs isâ¦another desk. No, really! They come up with a dumb rolling cart thing, and Staples hates it, and they lose. In the Boardroom, Alex blathers about how much he wants the job, and Bren kind of goes, "Eh," and Trump throws Bren to the curb for not caring enough. Understandable, really. In other news, Craig is the most condescending condescender that ever condescended, and in fact, he creates some kind of universal vortex when he tells Kendra she doesn't know what "condescending" means. Jerk. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on Riding In Cars With Knuckleheads: Bren, Alex, and Chris were sure they couldn't lose when they were assigned to promote a "sexy" car opposite Craig, Kendra, and Tana. Because nothing says "sexy" like greasy lawyers and freakishly underage millionaires with anger management issues. Hott! Craig and Tana walked off the job in the middle of the night, leaving Kendra to her own devices, which turned out to be pretty advanced, with GPS and all kinds of flashing lights and tricked-out doohickeys. Meanwhile, Alex fumbled the studio photography, Bren wrote the most uninteresting copy since The Nuts And Bolts Of Bolts and Nuts, and Chris thought "blurry" was short for "stupendous." Magna took home the victory following a shocking refusal on the part of Pontiac to recognize the brilliance and forward-looking nature of The Horizontally Oriented Rectangle as an artistic statement, and Net Worth went back to the Boardroom -- again. There, everyone seemed to be at risk, but it was Chris, our seven-time loser, who finally took a walk. But not, of course, before he wept tears of sorrow at the loss of the opportunity to work for Trump. Chris: spitter, shouter, screw-up, future criminal defendant. Stopped exactly one week short of where Troy wound up, which seems wrong. On the other hand? Lasted one week longer than Heidi. Ha.
This week's New York porn opens with a close-up of the flashing red hand on a "Don't Walk" signal, and...you know, it's like they're telling you not to watch the show. Oh, but then it turns to "Walk," so I guess they're just telling you to look out for the strutting white guy all telling your ass what to do. And I think we all know who that is. We listen to the rhythm of the falling rain and observe the proliferation of taxis to which it leads, and then we make our way into Trump Tower and up to the Love Palace for the Aspiring Corporate Weasel Death Watch. And it doesn't get much more weaselly than Alex, Chris, and Bren. Tana asks Kendra who she thinks will go, and Kendra names Chris. Craig, by the way, is lying face-down on the ottoman at the moment, so I guess he didn't get enough sleep, despite his giant flake-out. Tana and Craig both predict that the non-returning Aspiring Corporate Weasel will instead be Bren. Tana interviews that indeed, she expects to see Bren go home. "He's a funny guy," she says, "but I've seen him on tasks and he's a big zero." That's the kind of comment I just don't understand. If you like somebody and think he's a good guy, there's no need to look into a camera and say he's "a big zero." She just seems to be getting meaner and meaner as she becomes cockier and cockier. I liked her better when she seemed a little surprised at her own success. To tell you the truth, I don't think I'd buy a lipstick from her now. Mean!
The door to the L-Pal opens, and Bren and Alex return. Hugs are exchanged. Alex interviews, however, that returning to the L-Pal without his little buddy just "wasn't the same." Yeah. No spitting, no paranoid fantasies...it was like there was a hole in his little baboon heart. Tana asks the guys how Chris took his firing, and they report that he "got real emotional." Alex refers to Chris's demeanor as "teared up." Tana says, "He was choked up, but he walked out all right?" And Alex says, "Yeah." Which is awesome, because Tana was exactly asking whether Chris managed to exit without making a big slobbering scene like a leopard just ate his pet hamster, and he totally didn't. But it's not like Alex can say that, I guess. Especially since he and Chris were such close buds, once they got over the threats of physical violence. Alex and Bren compare notes and determine that they both thought they were going . Bren then interviews that he believes that he's now "lower than whale crap at the bottom of the ocean" to Trump. Bren gives Tana the lowdown on the beating he took for writing such bad marketing copy. "I just bit my tongue," he happily reports to her. "I wasn't a smart-ass in any way." And then Bren tells us in an interview that he's actually done a lot of tongue-biting during this experience, and is "tired of the blood in [his] mouth." Then he adds, "Then again, maybe the blood in my mouth is just making me thirsty for more." You know, a guy with that particular look really doesn't need to go down the road of talking like a serial killer. You always have to look out for the stumpy ones who don't shampoo.
Alex and Bren leave the L-Pal together, having decided to just kick back for some drinks. As they enjoy a beer, Bren voices over that he showed up wanting "fame and fortune and working for Mr. Trump," and he never anticipated making a "best friend." But now he has one. And it's Alex! They're best friends! That would be so cute if I liked either of them. I also would like to take this moment to mark the place in history when Bren's tie was straight. Bren's tie, in this interview, is straight! Bren's tie, so frequently convinced that it's 10:20 (tm Miss Alli's Mom), now believes that it is 9:15 on the button. Imagine that. Back at the bar, Bren gives Alex a couple of cigar lessons, because that's neither clichéd nor homoerotic at all, and Alex calls Bren his "oasis in this vast, imbecilic land." And he's kind of an ass, but boy, do I ever have friends about whom I would say that very same thing. Not that this particular land is vast or imbecilic. Like, at all. Because it's totally not. And then he adds, "I'm surrounded by morons and their mascots." "Mascots"? Okay, he lost me there. At least the dumb people I know manage without big foam-rubber animal heads. Still, you know, it's kind of ironic that I sense that I know how Alex is generally feeling, in part because of all the time I spend watching Alex. It's the circle of life, with more contempt and fewer lions.
Alex goes on to say that Bren is awesome, because if you give him a task, it will get done. Like...marketing copy, I suppose. "It" might come out sounding like the voicemail menu at a Styrofoam-peanut factory, excitement-wise, but oh, yes -- "it" will be completed. "It's been a very nice night," Bren says. "Tomorrow, let's go balls to the wall." Man, poor Alex. I hate it when dates start out promising and then end like that.
The morning, the Rhonaphone rings, and Tana -- in her pink zip-up that looks like she got it for selling her first $14.95 in Mary Kay products -- answers it. Rhona tells her that Trump wants them to meet him in his office "right away." Trump will be introducing them, Rhona reports, to "two important executives." We get a series of grooming shots -- Craig shaving, Bren combing back his hair, Alex blow-drying his armpits, Kendra putting on eye makeup, Bren putting on -- wait. Alex was blow-drying his armpits. Did you see that? That is hardcore, people. Kyan Douglas is like, "Dude, that is some girly-ass primping." Anyway, Tana puts on makeup, Craig shines his shoes, and then we are on our way to Trump's office. To meet with very important executives! I can hardly wait.
We then move to an entirely unfamiliar lobby where an entirely unfamiliar secretary is answering phones and holding the candidates in a waiting room we've never seen. Inside what we are to believe is Trump's office, Trump is having the usual Things Are Going Great™ conversation with a couple of executives from Staples, who tell him that...things are going great! I breathlessly await the first one of these in which one of the executives says, "Well, our backs are against the wall, sir, and we're dearly hoping that this desperate stab at notoriety will rescue what was once a proud and thriving company." And then Trump would beat them about the head with his telephone for "inspiration," and then the task could begin. The stakes? Higher than ever!
Trump lets the candidates in. He tells Ms. Staples and Mr. Staples that "these people are very talented," which is false advertising if ever there was such a thing. Let's see...Kendra...Craig...Tana...Bren...Alex. Are "very talented." I mean, honestly. When the final five have gathered, Trump welcomes them to Week 13 of their 16-week "interview" process. He tells them that Staples does $13 billion a year in sales, and is the big kahuna of office supplies, both nationally and around the world. Trump tells them that every year, Staples has a national contest for inventors who present ideas. For their task, they're to come up with a new product to "make office life easier by cleaning up clutter." In working on the product, they'll have a design and manufacturing team to work with them. They'll present the product to Mr. and Ms. Staples and a group of office managers at a Staples store. Most innovative product wins, and the other team goes to the Boardroom. Kendra is exempt, but this is the last exemption that will be available, he reveals. After this, everyone will rise and fall by his or her individual level of suck. Or, I should say, by his or her relative individual level of suck. And then he sends them out.
Back at the L-Pal, the candidates are joined by Carolyn and George, as Bren interviews that after 13 weeks without a break, it's now "about survival." Carolyn sits down with Bren and Alex and asks if there's a PM. Alex takes on the task. He tells us that he did that to put himself in a "do or die" situation. "You do great, or you get fired," he says. He goes on to tell us that he was willing to take a risk, because the person who wins the job will have to be a risk-taker. Hmm. Theme? Alex tells Bren that they need to talk to some office managers to find out what their big problems are, and Bren agrees to take care of this part. In an interview in which he looks even scragglier than usual, Bren tells us that it's important that he and Alex win, because his ass, among other things, is riding on it. I immediately feel like I have maxed out on Bren's-ass references for the week.
Over at Magna, Craig is the PM, and he tells Kendra and Tana to brainstorm in writing. Which...I'm not crazy about, as it seems a little artificial and motivational-seminar-ish and makes me want an easel, but okay. He then tells us, all confidential-like: "The biggest obstacle at this point would be Kendra. I want her to understand that, you've had your chance to lead the way that you lead, and I want you to respect mines [sic]." Yikes. Putting aside the rather unfortunate use of the word "mines," did Craig really give Kendra the opportunity to lead the way she wanted last week when he totally ignored everything she asked him to do and made her finish the entire task by herself? That sounds like a fairly weak argument to me. Back in the L-Pal, Kendra tells Craig that she thinks they'll definitely want to ask some people who buy office supplies what they think. Craig's response is to chastise her for talking when she's supposed to be writing. He's just really cranking up the overbearing-dick thing already. Kendra interviews, "Craig and I have really dysfunctional and poor communication." Heh. Exactly. She says that whenever he's talking to her, she's never sure what he's trying to say. And indeed, I'm not sure I'd know what he was getting at either, particularly if he did what he does right here, which is to solemnly tell Kendra that he's "experienced lives being changed" by brainstorming. Yes, I remember the day I started spitting out possible career aspirations and shouted, "Maybe someone could pay me to talk back to the TV!" My life was changed, that's for sure. ["Good thing I happened to be walking by." -- Sars] Basically, Kendra then interviews that it will be more productive to just let him talk for a few minutes, and then do what she thinks is right. And while she can't ignore the PM, I sort of agree with her that you hit a point with people where you just have to kind of let them listen to themselves talk for a while until they run out of bluster, and then you do the best you can. In other words: sit back, relax, and enjoy the remainder of the recap.
Bren and Alex road-trip to Smart Design, which is a company that helps design products and build prototypes. The guy offers to show them some metals and plastics and such, and indeed, they are taken to a workroom and shown a block of plastic. You know, that totally inspires me to invent a Block-Of-Plastic caddy to hold all my blocks of plastic! Alex then explains that "it was time to call the executives." But in a blow to the Space Communicator Company, whatever reception they're getting in the Smart Design conference room isn't doing it for them, because they're unable to complete their phone calls to the people at Staples. As it turns out, there's a whole team of folks whom Alex has decided not to meet with, because he thinks he can "get the same thing out of a phone conversation." He goes on to say, unbelievably stupidly, "They're not a client. They're just judges." Idiot! Semantics. The point is that they're the decision-makers. When you want to influence a decision, you reach out to the decision-makers. How freaking hard is that to understand? Alex has social skills markedly inferior to those of my parents' dog, who has been known to throw up under the dining-room table. In fact, Alex admits that as the telephone tag fell apart, he started to wonder if perhaps he should have met with the executives in person. Gee, I wonder. (My parents' dog: "Arf!") He refers to his terrible decision-making in this instance as "a huge risk." A-ha! Turn a negative into a positive! Way to go, Alex! You didn't fuck up, you just rolled the dice! Who knew they'd come up snake eyes! Time for a cocktail! I can't stand him; I really can't. He's Beneath My Argyle Sweater Beats The Heart Of A Champion Guy, and there is no one who bores me more than that guy during a group endeavor, with the possible exception of They Broke The Mold When They Made Me And My Long Hair And My Ironic T-Shirts And My Black Trench Coat Guy.
"Take Control" is this week's Trump motto, so accordingly, we watch Trump order someone working on a building to do a "perfect job." I'm sure that's exactly what the guy needed in order to meet his full potential, by the way. Just a blowhard blowing as hard as he can, all, "Do a perfect job!" Trump goes on to say that "if a leader can't control his subordinates, he's not a leader, he's not a good businessman, he's going to be a failure, whether it's a he or a she, it's going to be bad." We watch a meeting in which he says nothing of substance to a young-ish woman, and then we are blissfully done with this part of the show, which I hate every week almost as much as the Things Are Going Great ™ conversation.
Now, we are at Staples, where Magna is meeting with the executives. In person! No Space Communicators required! Tana interviews that not only could they find out as much as possible about Staples this way, but they could form a little bit of a relationship with the judges that might be useful later. Because if there's anyone who knows about building apparently harmless social relationships that she will later use against you, it's a cosmetics lady who comes to your house. Asked whether Staples has a slogan, Ms. Staples says that they do, and it happens to be, "That was easy." Which I think is a horrible slogan for a retail store that doesn't specialize in DIY projects, but all right. She says that their customers are people who just want a really easy way to shop for office supplies. So that's the "easy" part? The shopping? Sometimes I think I'm more qualified for this show than I think. I think their motto should be "Tape-N-Such." That would be awesome. I await my check, Staples! Anyway, she says that last year, the winner of their inventions contest was someone who brought them a padlock, except that instead of numbers, it used letters, so you could remember a word. Kendra explains that what they were told was that you don't need to invent something from scratch -- you should concentrate on improving something that's already out there. Welcome to today's accidental lesson in How Mark Burnett Got All That Damn Money.
Kendra and Tana wander in a Staples store, and they ask some shoppers about clutter and possible solutions. They meet up with one guy, who sort of looks like Les from WKRP in Cincinnati, who turns out to be an office manager shopping for supplies for a bunch of employees. They're struck by the fact that he has a whole bunch of what they persistently refer to as "stackables" in his cart. And...I'm not sure that's really the right word for those things, which appear to me to be top-loading, and therefore, by definition, not "stackable." They're stand-up, I think, and you wouldn't stack them, but "stackables" is the name Kendra and Tana assign to them, and I freely admit that my office supply identification superpowers are limited indeed, so...whatever. "Stackables" it is! As they go to interview another person for suggestions, we see that Craig is basically walking around the store on his own, paying no attention to the discussions they're having at all. Kendra says that she really doesn't have any idea what Craig was up to while she and Tana were working. She just knows he wasn't part of their market research. As we watch, Craig sits in an office chair and pushes a drawer closed, as if he's communing with the desk or something. Sarcastic Music Guy puts in some music that combines Honking Bassoons of What-The-Hell with a twinkly little noise like, "Aaahhhh." You can tell Sarcastic Music Guy kind of couldn't make heads or tails of what Craig was doing with that desk drawer either.
And now, we are with Net Worth, where Bren is asking Alex how exactly they can do a "focus group." Alex tells Bren to just find four office managers on the phone. Which is more "a series of random phone calls" than a "focus group." In fact, it appears notably lacking in both focus-like and group-like qualities. Bren starts looking through the yellow pages, apparently determined to rely on cold-calling, which is perhaps the dumbest idea ever. He sort of mocks the process in an interview, which it deserves, because he's chosen a stupid way to do it. Why not do something a little more rational, like start with calls to some temp agencies, who probably have a lot of contacts with office managers? If you could get one temp agency to hook you up with some contacts, then you would have somewhere to go besides cold-calling, because when you're asking for a favor? Cold-calling is the worst. I think Bren decided very early on that this was a stupid idea and didn't try very hard to make it work, because there were infinitely better ways to go about it, had he made any effort. You're going to ask to be the CEO of an organization, and you're left flummoxed by the instruction, "find any four office managers"? And visiting a Staples store, as Magna did, is only one of the ways they could have done it. Ultimately, Alex tells Bren to try to get at least two people to talk to him, and Bren says that "two people's a group," and then he laughs, which...just, really. It's not as if the idea of talking to people who are within your target market is some wacky scheme dreamed up in a lab by scientists with crazy hair and half-eaten tuna sandwiches in their pockets, zooming around on rocket-powered roller skates.
Magna shows up at Smart Design. They're buzzed in, and Kendra explains that they went over to choose their concept and start on the prototype. She tells Craig that she and Tana were really struck by the use of the stackable file holders. Craig asks her what's her "concept," and then he complains in an interview that she "could not conceptualize it." Oy. I'm so very suspicious of remarks like "she could not conceptualize it." Craig is suddenly talking about how they can make a thing with four of the stackable thingies as the four sides of a cube (roughly). Kendra interviews that he kind of swiped her idea, which wasn't great, but in the end, they got an idea together that worked. George pops in on their meeting, and Craig explains what they're doing. George says he thinks it sounds tough to execute, and Craig says that his big thing was to make the bins "portrait" instead of "landscape," meaning you'd put in papers vertically. The idea, not a bad one in and of itself, is to keep the thing from taking up too much desktop real estate.
Over at Net Worth, Bren and Alex are working on their product, and Alex is suddenly talking about a standalone cart of sorts that you can "wheel out." He's working on a "drafting table" with a flip-up top. Bren calls it a "little table," and when the design team visits, Alex tells them that his brilliant idea is that there will be two baskets under a Plexiglas top, so that you can look down into them. Provided, you know, that there's nothing actually on top of the desk. Bren says in an interview that Alex is a lot better at risk-taking than he is. As Alex explains the project, one of the designers says, a little dubiously and very uncomfortably, "So this is an extra desk...to your normal desk." Alex equally uncomfortably confirms that that's it exactly. And then he laughs. Uncomfortably. It's safe to say this moment is uncomfortable. Because it's a very stupid idea, and nobody is sure whether it's okay to tell that to Alex. I just love the fact that Alex has emerged as the "idea guy." Alex! Has emerged as...well, you know.
Night. Magna is at Staples, and they're shopping for the stuff that they're going to put in the organizer for the presentation. Kendra suggests that they buy some file folders, because after all, that's the way people actually keep papers in offices -- mostly in folders or files, and not just loose. Tana points out that Kendra is right, but that file folders are generally aligned horizontally, and the organizer is vertical. Kendra wonders aloud, probably a little too late for it to be productive, whether this, then, constitutes a "design flaw." Craig says no, the point is to file loose papers in the "stackable." And...you could do that. You could tell people that it's for loose papers. My problem with that is that if you make it so it can accommodate folders, then it can be for loose papers or for files. Whereas this is just for loose papers, and I don't think loose papers are the cause of most clutter. And to the degree that they are, they're loose papers that should be in file folders, so at best, this would be just a temporary solution until you get around to filing the loose papers, you know? Maybe I am allowing my own messy office to create a bias in my thinking. ["Perhaps you could just conceptualize it better for us…?" -- Sars] At any rate, Craig gives an exasperated interview about how dumb it would look to put horizontal folders in a "vertical product." Putting aside the questionable phrasing of "vertical product," I'm not sure why they can't just use regular stand-up folders, then. You know, like Duo-Tangs? It would seem to me to be better than nothing. Kendra says that she thinks they'll "misrepresent [the] product" if they don't have folders, by which I believe she means (and is not doing a good job of saying) that they'll be showing the product in a way people would be unlikely to actually use it, since people mostly keep office papers in files. Craig says to her, "I'm trying to show you how we're not misrepresenting our product." And then he says, "We're going to run this by you slowly." Which really is very rude and unbelievably -- well, I'll let Kendra take it, since she gets it right. "That's condescending, and that's not very nice," she says, a little pouty, but spot-on. Craig tells her that he's just trying to talk "in a common-sense way." Kendra interviews that this is the tone she gets from Craig all the time. "I'm just offended that somebody thinks that they can talk to me as if I'm five years old." Not a big Kendra fan, but I have to agree with her there.
The morning, Alex and Bren go in to look at their product. What they have designed, basically, is a big, bulky side table. It has a wood top with two rectangular holes in it, and there are two wire baskets hanging through those holes. There's a Plexiglas lid over the whole thing that's on hinges, so the idea is that you'd put crap on the top of it, and then you'd have your in/out baskets hanging there so that you could see them. Alex is all kinds of excited when he sees the desk, because he thinks it is incredibly awesome. He interviews that an enormous "burden was lifted" when he saw it, because he was so blown away by his own brilliance. "We have knocked the ball so far out of the park," he says, and then he tells Bren that he desperately wishes he could really have the rights to sell the thing. "You could make a million bucks," he says. Here's the thing: It's a cart. On wheels. It's a wheeled cart. Basically, what it does is multiply your desk. It doesn't really solve clutter to just have more horizontal surfaces. But Bren and Alex are positively wetting themselves over the awesomeness of this design. Bren says that despite his usual pessimism, he finds that he's optimistic about this. "I fear the lashing that Magna Corp will take in the Boardroom over this," he tells Alex. It's like he's having a premonition, but he's looking at it upside-down.
Magna's desk organizer is being fabricated. Tana explains that it's being painted and finished up, and she thinks the presentation will be fine, but Kendra still seems to think they're going to use "those damn files." Heh. Indeed, Kendra now has some vertical folders, and is wondering, apparently, if they can use those. "I want to make this as realistic of an office scenario as possible," she says. "And what you find in offices are folders." Craig gets on his favorite fucking obnoxious jaunt, saying, "Now, you have to watch how you do your generalities. I do want you to know that I'm very much more experienced than you, 'cause I've been around a little longer than you." Kendra has now had enough. "You're very condescending to me," she says. "And you talk to me like I'm six years old and I 'haven't been around.'" Craig tells her, essentially, that if he seems to be talking down to her, it's because he is. "If I sound like I was talking to a child, that's how I'm going to talk to my children when I have to continually repeat myself." I don't suppose it might ever occur to him that it might be inappropriate to talk to colleagues the way you talk to children. Too easy? Kendra leans toward him. "Well, maybe you're just not an effective communicator," she says. "It's you that is always going to be condescending." And then Craig creates some kind of weird hole in the universe when he's like, "You don't know what that means. You really don't know what that means." It's like, "Oh, little cupcake, I would never patronize you." The irony is eating itself. Kendra, I think, is probably right in seeing no purpose in going any further. "I don't want to have this conversation anymore, because you're being condescending. This conversation is over." "No, it's not, because I'm still talking," Craig says. Well, you can talk all you want, dude, but if she's not talking back, it's not much of a conversation.
And it's not like Craig is done yet. "Now," he says, trying to seem commanding, "I've given you respect that you don't even deserve, young lady." Wow. Nothing like telling people they don't deserve your respect to make them do great work. And "young lady"? Oooh, we love that. Kendra immediately points out that "young lady" is rather a shitty way to talk to a grown woman in a professional situation, which is exactly correct. She goes on in frustration: "Every time I've asked you to do something, you've told me, 'no.'" "Every time?" he asks sarcastically. "Listen to your use of...of verbage [sic]." As was pointed out to me this week, you can technically use the word "verbiage" and pronounce it kind of like that, but it still has a meaning that makes "use of verbiage" not really appropriate there, even indulging the (in my opinion) incredibly generous notion that that's what Craig is doing. "Okay," Kendra says. "Almost every time." "Okay, now you're a liar!" Craig nearly snarls at her. Jesus Christ, what a fucking asshole. "So is that condescending?" he adds. Well, no. That has nothing to do with being condescending. That's just nasty and illogical and kind of weirdly, spasmodically moralistic. What the hell is he talking about? He makes no sense. I kind of understand what Kendra and some of the rest of the folks on the show have been talking about, because the way he explains things is seriously very hard to make heads or tails of. "If you're trying to create a positive team dynamic, you're doing a piss-poor job," Kendra finally says. And...honestly. I mean, she's no great shakes, but his behavior here is just appalling. Appalling and gross and deserving of a punch in the kidneys.
And then Tana just takes a big bite out of her sandwich. Which is awesome, whether it's a little apocryphal or not. Sometimes, there's nothing to be gained from getting involved.
As they head for the presentation, Tana says that indeed, she was pretty unhappy about trying to pull off a major presentation with two teammates who despise each other. Hope the sandwich was good! The executives and the office managers walk in as Kendra voices over that while Craig is "an ass," they at least have their desire to win in common. Heh. She says that for that reason, they could fake their way through it. "It's kind of like faking a marriage that went bad years ago," she says. Living rooms all across America grow strangely silent, until someone laughs hoarsely and says, "Ha-ha-ha, good one!" Craig kicks off the presentation with a welcome, which he does while seated behind a desk. He then passes it over to Kendra, who starts by explaining how they talked to some consumers to get ideas for their product. They proceed through a little role-play where Craig plays the part of a beleaguered office type with a desk full of crap, while Tana brings him the organizer caddy thing, and he puts all of his stuff into it. The least convincing part is that they fill up the big, unnecessary box created in the middle of the thing with reams of paper, which do not belong on top of your desk to begin with. I think it's generally true that the major cause of clutter is failure to throw things away, not lack of little places to tuck things. So...whatever. Craig fills up the organizer with pens and whatnot, stuffing it full of notebooks and highlighters. Why anyone would have, like, fifteen highlighters on his desk, I'm not sure, but maybe Craig is playing the part of an office manager who's also in high school...or possibly several high schools at the same time. The executives have a few questions, including whether the lazy-Susan mechanism can be locked (it can't), but generally, they seem impressed. One of them comments that it's a little big, but it's "interesting." So that will do it for that presentation.
And now...Net Worth. Alex and Bren welcome the executives to their presentation for the Pack Rat. Oh, jeez. Alex highlights the storage space for the electric stapler, which is kind of...dude. I mean, really. When I clear clutter out of my office, my stapler is actually one of the few things that's allowed to stay on the desk. I'm surprised they didn't make a little drawer where you put away all the pictures of your family. Alex tells us that he's just sure that George and Carolyn "really liked the design." He also says that the other folks at the presentation he was looking at looked like they loved it. Loved it! He shows how your out box and your in box will be under the top of the desk. And here's the problem -- in maneuvering around the in box and out box, Alex has Bren lift up the top of the desk while he moves things in and out. Which just makes it look more elaborate by making it look like it would take another person to make the thing work smoothly. You want to demonstrate the product so that it doesn't seem like it would actually have a negative effect on productivity by requiring you to bring in another employee for a Team Lift. Alex, of course, is firmly of the opinion that having baskets you can look down into through the top of your desk is very, very brilliant. And then the questions start. The first guy wants to know how it helps you to have your in box and out box there if you have to open your desk to get things out and put them in. One lady adds that she would wind up just piling stuff on top of it, so there's no way she'd be opening and closing it all the time. "It doesn't seem functional," one voice says, and that can't be good.
Later, Trump gets out of his limo and heads into Staples, where he meets up with George and Carolyn, and then with Mr. and Ms. Staples. They report that they did indeed like one of the products better than the other. Trump asks the teams how they think they did, and unsurprisingly, they both figure that they won. Bren thinks his team did "spectacular." But now, it's time to hear from Ms. Staples and Mr. Staples. Ms. Staples explains that the Magna cum caddy "clearly connected" with the needs of Staples customers. The office managers at the presentation even said they would buy it. Tana makes a hilariously goofy "ooooh" face, because that's totally who she is. Mr. Staples takes over for Net Worth, telling them that they just "didn't hit the mark." The flip cover thing doesn't work, the whole thing is too big, nothing slides out, and it's just goofy. The winner is Magna -- again. Trump tells them that their reward will be breakfast with George and Carolyn at the Rainbow Room. Of course, it's a chance to get to know the Viceroys, as well as a good breakfast, one would hope. About half of the rewards they provide on this show are vastly inferior to a decent stack of blueberry pancakes, so at least there's that. Bren and Alex, on the other hand, will go to the Boardroom, and one of them will be fired.
Skyline! We arrive at the Rainbow Room, where Magna is escorted in for breakfast. Tana talks about the spectacular view, and then George and Carolyn arrive. Craig talks about the importance of getting "access to Carolyn and George" outside the bad environment of the Boardroom. George starts by congratulating them on a good presentation yesterday, and asks Craig whether it was intentional when he knocked over his box of pencils. Craig says that it was. Kendra interviews that she was rather stunned to hear George and Carolyn being funny. Carolyn tells them about her awesome kids, and the fact that her husband's name is also George. George's wife is named Trump, and...no, not really. Tana calls it a chance to meet "the best." George, taking a gusty walk down what must be a fairly rainy memory lane, recalls for the candidates that he met Trump when Trump was only in his twenties, and had some wacky hotel scheme that George considered insane. He doesn't say how it turned out, but I'd say that from what I know, it's about 50-50 that George turned out to be exactly right. Carolyn says she's been with Trump for ten years or so, and George teases her about not having known what she was in for. "Yeah, what the hell was I thinking?" she wonders aloud. Everyone laughs. Aw! Camaraderie born of Trump-related wariness! I can relate. Breakfast ensues.
Alex and Bren go out for coffee before one of them has to be banished. Alex says he thinks they should take responsibility for their mistakes, but remain "steadfast" in insisting that they made the better product. So...they'll be specializing in internal contradictions, then. Because...what? "I take responsibility for all of my mistakes! Of which, fortunately, there were none." Anyway. Bren makes some weird-ass comparison to arguing in front of judges, and confirms that indeed, he believes that the judges were clearly wrong. Apparently, not only the Staples people were wrong, but the office managers who said the product didn't meet their needs and they wouldn't buy it were...also wrong. They would buy it, apparently, and they just don't realize that they would buy it. They'd find, once they returned to their offices, that there was such an outpouring of passionate desire for the Pack Rat that it would become a company benefit, like health insurance, that you simply had to offer in order to keep your top-level people. Bren tells us that he continues to have "faith in that design." He also says that he doesn't want to be told that he's a loser, or "have [his] nose rubbed in it." Boy, he picked the wrong show, didn't he? Bren tells Alex that he's been "meek" and "humble" in the Boardroom, but that's not how he wants his kids to turn out. Yeah. Humble, yuck! He says that he "doesn't care what it costs [him]; principle is more important." Yeah, principle! Principles like the Pack Rat! Principles like folding desktops! Those are both in the Bible, by the way. Alex tells Bren that he's only concerned about how long he will now go, one way or the other, without seeing Bren. Tragedy! Alex interviews that the only thing on his mind during coffee was "saying goodbye." He insists that all he felt was, "I don't want to lose my buddy." You're a great man, bro! I love you, dude!
But for now...Boardroom. Ding! Alex and Bren stroll past Robin and are seated with Carolyn and George. Trump enters. "So you're both lawyers," Trump says. "Can lawyers be creative?" (I, personally, want to take this opportunity to vote "no.") "Absolutely," both guys insist. Trump refers to their design as a "monstrosity," which isn't a really promising start, except in the sense that the best Boardrooms are sort of explosions of hyperbole. He asks them what they think of their stink-o secondary desk in retrospect, and Bren says it's "spectacular." Alex repeats his wish that he had the rights to sell it, and Trump basically offers the rights to him, since it sucks. Trump really hates this design, you have to understand. In fact, I think if they don't take it back to the L-Pal, Trump is going to have it crushed into dust and sprinkled on top of a sundae that will then be served to whichever guy remains. The words "eat it, boy" may be used. Trump brings up again the stupidity of the Plexiglas top, and Alex argues again that this will allow you to see what's in your in and out baskets. He tries to explain it as people having "two periods of work," sort of the now-work and the later-work, but...it's not flying. "I don't get it," Trump says. Not that that's really determinative. Trump asks whose design it was, and Alex says that it was his. "Every component on there came from an uncreative lawyer," Alex says, missing the...complete lack of irony, I guess. It's hard when you accidentally hit a completely accurate declarative sentence when you didn't mean to.
George says that as a lawyer, he's embarrassed, actually. Heh. He asks them what their design has over a drawer that you don't have to lift the top of the desk to access. It's a good point. The baskets are, after all, like drawers, only much, much harder to open. Alex again argues that you can see down into the baskets, but he is still missing the point that you can't see into them if you have stuff on the desk, and what's more, you're only going to see the top papers anyway. George points this out. Trump asks Carolyn what she thinks of it, and Carolyn says, "I still don't get it." She also asks if they really think this is better than what Magna came up with. And again, the guys stick with "absolutely" as their answer. "Are you saying that the Staples executives are wrong?" she asks. George starts to jump in, and she says, "George, George, hold on, are you saying that the Staples executives are wrong?" She reminds them of the negative comments they got about how big and useless this product really was. Moreover, the focus group didn't like it either. Alex asks whether the Staples people saw any use for it at all, and Carolyn said maybe it could be used for a child. Or a home office. Carolyn goes back to the idea of having had some kind of a focus group to at least ask people what they wanted. Bren asks her how that could possibly have been done. "They did it," she says simply. "The other team did it." Bren goes right past declining to bootlick and lands on obnoxious sarcasm when he says, "And obviously, if I had done more on a focus group, I would have realized that that was just a horrible, a monstrosity..." Trump now asks why they didn't meet with the executives, and Alex takes the blame for that one, saying that he basically didn't think it was necessary, as compared to the conference call. Trump tells him that the phone is never as good, even if your only objective were to forge a bit of a relationship. Four bazillion online dating veterans agree. Alex then "subtly" redirects the blame back to Bren, saying that he made that call because he believed Bren would put together a "focus group" for them.
George makes the call that they went about the task "backwards," in the sense that they designed the thing first, and then considered asking people whether it was what they wanted. Trump also chastises Alex for starting out strong and finishing up...you know, lame. "I thought you were a star, and you're not really a star. You're not a star. And I'm disappointed." Alex says that he put Bren on marketing, and Bren "dropped the ball." Trump tells him that you can't put that much reliance on someone else. Alex says that with two guys, you have to just take the risk that the other person will carry his half. It's not a horrible argument, this part of it. Trump tells them that he thinks they both sucked, but he has to do something.
Trump asks Bren why he should be kept over Alex. Bren says that he works harder and is "more consistent." "There's nobody in the suite who works harder than me," Alex interjects, "and I'm the hungriest person here." Bren tells Trump flat-out that he has "trouble taking risks." Ooh, that doesn't seem like a good move. He calls himself "conservative," Cucumber Dick, the Homosexual Commercial notwithstanding. He does argue in his own defense that he's better at getting along with people. George asks him to confirm whether he just said he has trouble taking risks, and Bren agrees that he does, but claims he's getting better at it. Trump asks what that means, and Bren says that among other things, he risked trusting Alex to do a good job. Heh. Carolyn says he can't exactly put the entire thing on Alex. Trump asks how Bren is going to work for him or being entrepreneurial if he can't take risks. Of course...working for Trump isn't being entrepreneurial, is it? Whatever. Anyway. Trump points out that "life is a risk," and Bren tries to defend himself by saying that he took a big risk by quitting his job to come on the show. He quit his job? Oy. Trump says that doesn't count, because everyone did that. Bren says again that he's "learning" to take risks, but a lot of them aren't paying off. Heh, again.
Trump asks why Bren should be fired, and Alex says that indeed, Bren is no risk-taker. And then Alex gives some weird and irrelevant speech about his past as a ski racer, which...what? Who cares? Ski racing? Shut up, Alex. ["Was he also president of his fraternity? God, he's a prat." -- Sars] Anyway. Alex says that he then went to college and law school, and took risks by studying in Israel (okay) and working as a lobbyist (ha!). Alex says that he has "passion" and "desire" that can't be taught. Trump returns to Bren, pointing out that Alex is "killing" him, and he's not fighting back. Trump takes this opportunity for an incredibly awkward and highly irrelevant preen about how he knocked off Branson and Cuban and their knockoff shows, which...talk about a stretch. Bren, essentially: "Eh." No, seriously. That's about what happens. Bren tells Trump that he and Alex are different guys, and he should just pick who he wants. Carolyn asks who wants it more, and Alex insists that he wants it more, and Bren says that he wants it too, or he wouldn't be here. He points out that if he didn't want the job, he would be at home with his family instead of "being in here, getting my ass chewed on." Okay, just another image I didn't need in a week that's had quite a few of them to offer. Trump again brings up risks, and Bren again brings up "trying to learn." Trump tells him that learning is one thing, but starting from ground zero is something else. "You might be a very good lawyer, but you're really very far behind," he says. He tells Bren that he's sure he'll be very successful, but at this point? Fired. Fired! Bren and Alex leave. There is no crying. But out in the lobby, Bren and Alex love each other, bro.
Trump and the Viceroys agree that Bren is probably a good lawyer. I'm sure he's quite comforted by that.
In his taxi interview, Bren points out that Alex didn't exactly follow the plan of sticking up for their amazing desk concept and yelling at Trump and the Viceroys for having no vision. But in the end, he says that he realized that he didn't want to be there as much as Alex did. "The truth is, I'm exhausted, and I'm tired." He says that he's made some good friends, and basically learned that he'd rather be back at home with his family anyway. Well, I never! The absolute nerve!
week: Fighting! Final four!