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Alex, all alone, selects Tana to come over to his Loser Team for the task, leaving Craig and Kendra all alone together, which is a little funny. Each team is assigned to collaborate with a pop artist to create a t-shirt to commemorate 50 years of t-shirt culture, whatever the hell that means. Both teams create shirts that incorporate wings and stars and hearts and things, and Kendra and Craig promote their shirt to art lovers, while Alex and Tana promote their shirt to no one. Oh, and Tana becomes obsessed -- and I am saying she is obsessed -- with "improving" the work of their artist with a Bedazzler. I absolutely kid you not one tiny bit. In fact, when she can't get an actual Bedazzler anywhere, she drags Alex to Staten Island on the theory that -- get this -- Manhattan is out of rhinestones. Let me say that again: Manhattan is out of rhinestones. She proceeds to glue five fake stones to each of her shirts and price them so outrageously that she sells one-third as many as Craig and Kendra do of their unimproved shirts. Despite the fact that Kendra and Craig probably set their price too low, they still manage the victory by quite a large margin, becauseâ¦did I mention the Bedazzler, and the fact that nobody came up with any marketing ideas besides having Alex stand on the sidewalk? In the Boardroom, Alex points out the incredibly poor management that Tana applied to practically every part of this task, which is absolutely correct, but Trump freaks out over Alex's win-loss record, and before you know it, Alex is fired. And overall, I suppose that's right, butâ¦I'm still messed up over the Bedazzler thing, people. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on We're Not Gay, Sir!: A Staples task had Alex and Bren designing a desk with topless drawers (not dirty!), and caused conflict within Magna over the topic of file folders. Yes, file folders. Yes, really. Also, Craig and Kendra hated each other. Ultimately, Staples decided that one desk per cubicle is usually enough and gave the victory to Magna, sending Alex and Bren, who were Best Friends Forever, to the Boardroom to chew on each other. Alex: "RAR!" Bren: "Whatever." Trump: "You both suck. You're both fired, but Alex, you will have to wait your turn to actually leave, so Bren, you can go now." Four candidates left, all of whom have now done better than Troy -- something I simply can't stop mentioning. Who won't make it to the interviews?
Evening. New York City. Backwards reflect-y stock ticker. Cabs. Steam. The ceremonial washing of the dark sidewalk. The ceremonial menacing of the lone jogger. 56th and 5th. Up in the L-Pal, we look at Magna's portrait gallery, and we pause to linger over the shots of Bren and Alex, which truly make them look like the grimy tools they are, which is why I love the people who make this show. Craig is shining his shoes, as he does, and he's got that pick in his hair again. Tana and Kendra are chatting, and Tana says she doesn't expect the fellas to take each other apart too viciously. Kendra isn't so sure. Kendra interviews that "[her] boys" are in the Boardroom at the moment. Just Alex and Bren. Bro! Man! Buddy! Dude! She refers to this epic smackdown as "attorney versus attorney." And believe me, the fact that it's attorney versus attorney doesn't mean both sides have a fair chance, or that the discussion will be remotely interesting. But it sounds better than "tie versus tie," which is what it is, kind of. Kendra tries not to laugh while she tells Tana that Bren might actually make it back if Alex was stupid enough to die on the hill of the Pack Rat. Kendra then interviews that Alex is tougher competition than Bren, so she would rather see Alex get bumped off now. Well, I can see her reasons for being fearful. He is the guy who came up with the Meatball Masterpiece.
But in fact, it is Alex who comes strolling into the L-Pal, dragging his rolly-case behind him. Craig nods somewhat grudgingly, like, "Well, I guess they both couldn't be fired." And for once, I can honestly say that I totally feel Craig. Tana and Kendra both give hugs, as morons and their mascots do. (Sidebar: The best reason to have friends who watch the same bad television shows you do is that things happen like the moment today when one of my friends called me "an oasis in this vast, imbecilic wasteland." Best compliment ever!) Alex calls the Boardroom experience with Bren "tough," by which he means, "I almost peed my pants." Because…bro! Dude! Man! Alex ruefully tells the group he's been to the Boardroom four times, so he has no "equal" among those who remain. Tana looks at him sadly, second-guessing his skin-care regimen in her head. Alex interviews: "I feel that, like, it is me against the world." In my favorite visual of the week, he says to us that the worst person to try to fight is someone "who has nothing to lose." And then he says, "That's me," but he points right to his head. Yes, indeedy, nothing to lose in there! Nowhere to go but up! You'd think the guy could at least point to his own chest without fucking it up. No wonder he keeps winding up in the Boardroom. He explains that just like it says in Sun Tzu's The Art Of War, he's decided to allow Magna to (erroneously!) think he's weak. Ah, yes. Sun Tzu does recommend those four consecutive defeats, I think, in order to lull your opponents into submission. In fact, didn't Sun Tzu specifically mention the Pack Rat? I think there's a diagram. ["Few things on this planet bug me more than when a corporate wrench like Alex who couldn't win a slapfight with my dead grandmother refers all smugly to Sun Tzu. Watching Wall Street on basic cable a couple of times doesn't make anyone a strategic giant, son." -- Sars] In his bedroom, Alex tells Kendra that the experience "wore on [his] spirit." That's not even a good bluff, because everyone knows Alex doesn't have a spirit. We knew that all the way back at "bling-bling."
Kendra reminds us that Alex is the only survivor of Net Worth, and that tomorrow, somebody will be sent over to work with him. Tana asks Kendra about the prospect of Alex picking her, leaving Kendra to work with Craig. Knowing, of course, how well those two get along. Kendra rolls her eyes at the very thought. "You guys have had a problem for five tasks," Tana stage-whispers. Tana wonders aloud whether Alex is "mean enough to do that." Well, sure! I mean, he will if it says to do it in The Art Of War.
Night falls. A dude sleeps in a chair on the street. But, uh, don't think about that part. We didn't mean to show that.
The morning, Craig answers the Rhonaphone, and Rhona says that they need to meet Trump in the lobby of Trump Tower in an hour. The thing you know, there we are in the lobby, where the candidates await Trump and the Viceroys. When they arrive, Trump welcomes them to Week 14, and tells them that they are the final four, in case they have trouble with counting. He tells them, however, that three of them will be losers. Got it? He tells Alex that he needs another team member, and it's his choice whom he wants from Magna. Alex selects…Tana. Kendra and Craig both make gritted-teeth smiling faces as Tana heads over to be with Alex. Alex and Tana hug. Craig and Kendra do not. Trump reminds them that this means each team is made up of one Book Smart and one Street Smart. Like anyone cares. Trump then tells them that the task this week somehow relates to his way of putting his name on everything, which it totally doesn't. He claims to put his name on t-shirts, and then says that when you think "t-shirts," you think of Hanes, and that's who this week's task is for. Hanes is yooge! For this task, each team will design and sell a commemorative t-shirt "celebrating 50 years of t-shirt culture." Is that a thing, "t-shirt culture"? Because I would argue that that's not a thing. Anyway, Trump tells them that they'll each have access to a "pop culture artist." Magna will be working with Romero Britto, and Net Worth will work with Burton Morris. I have to say, based on their names only, Romero sounds like a better artist than Burton, who sounds like your cousin's roommate, but I admit, that's something of an uninformed opinion. Once they've designed their shirts, they'll sell them out of Scoop stores. Whoever makes the most money wins, and the other team goes to the Boardroom.
Alex tells us that he knew immediately that Tana should be the PM, because she "has a clothing business." He then says that Kendra "was crestfallen, because she didn't want to be stuck with Craig." And then he sort of dork-laughs, like…a dork. Would laugh. You know?
We take in a few clothing-related transition shots, and then we are at Hanes, where Tana and Alex are discussing their shirt design. Alex sketches out something he refers to as "tight," and Tana agrees that it's "tight," and neither of them is or ever could be "tight," ever, but all right. Tana interviews that they were trying to come up with a slogan, and Alex came up with "Rock Star." Wow, how original. Nobody ever does anything like that. You have to go to the girls section at T.J. Maxx to find t-shirts with an edgy slogan like "Rock Star." Tana says, however, that she went for it, and their logo was eventually "Rock Star Couture." Then Burton shows up, and he shows off his portfolio, including a coffee cup image they used on Friends, as well as a stylized Fedora Guy of some sort that was used on the Oscars. Alex voices over that Burton does art that "can work really well for [their] design." Burton offers to work with them on some "sketch concepts," and Tana breaks the news that they've already been sketching, which I'm sure Burton is just thrilled to hear. Doctors always are glad to know you got started on that appendectomy while you were waiting for them to arrive. "I'm almost through the first layer of skin!"
Net Worth shows Burton their "wing" idea, and then they want to know how quickly he can make a star that has their "Rock Star Couture" thing on it. I love how he's sort of disbelieving that they actually want to work that dorky logo into the design, but he plays along, because what's he going to do? I basically hate everything about the design they wind up with, in that it incorporates a star, and a flag, and wings, and the words "Rock Star Couture," and I'm just so dissatisfied with the whole phony, watery, bloodless, red-state nature of it. It's like the Clay Aiken of shirts.
Kendra and Craig are in a cab with Romero, and Kendra asks him whether he designed his shirt, which is covered with hearts. He admits that he did. Kendra voices over that they were on their way to Hanes, and then we are watching Craig and Kendra have their first little flare-up, which is basically about nothing, but they have it anyway, because that's what they do. Kendra says that she became the PM because she knew that Craig wouldn't listen to anything she said if he were the PM. Probably quite true. "I would not be able to do anything my way, and therefore we wouldn't win the task." Heh. While they're working with Romero, Kendra tells a woman who seems to be his assistant that they'd love to get the information about Romero's fans so that they can do a blast email to the list telling everyone about the shirts' availability. Kendra explains that this went to 3000 collectors of his work. Good plan. Romero, meanwhile, shows them a couple of sketches, one of which is based on a heart, and one based on a star. Kendra says she likes the heart, but Craig -- of course -- takes the opposite position and says he prefers the star. He claims that the star is "more universal." Please. What the hell does that mean? Nothing, that's what. Ultimately, they can't agree, so Kendra chooses the heart. Craig interviews that she only wants his opinion when she's not going to obey him anyway, so why bother? Which is great. If you don't do what he says, you're not listening to him. Great attitude. Romero says that he'll get going. Craig laughs that the decisions that were getting made were hers -- once again, God knows he didn't do anything, so he wouldn't be on the hook if they lost. I just cannot abide that attitude, and he's, like, the king of it.
The Trump motto is "Keep Your Eyes On The Prize." The ensuing segment has very little to do with eyes, prizes, or keeping. Got it? Good.
Later, we check in with Net Worth, which is reviewing its design. It is a pretty design, although the star with the cartoony wings looks a little bit like something that would be a parody of itself on The Simpsons. I just don't see what fluffy wings that look like they're made of mashed potatoes have to do with "Rock Star Couture." The thing just doesn't hang together for me. Tana then starts talking about how maybe they could "stud it" or add rhinestones. Ewwww. EW! Alex, too, acts like he thinks the idea of putting three "stones" on it would be just the best. Tana grins, because arts and crafts are her favorite thing, to pretending to be awesome. And this is where Tana says the word for the first time: "Bedazzler." Alex doesn't even know what the Bedazzler is, although TWoP readers sure as hell do. That's how you can tell just how kitschy it really is -- it's been currency around here for years. In fact, it's probably been flogged more than a congressional filibuster in these parts, so you know it's on the way out. (Like the congressional filibuster, apparently.) Anyway, she's all happy, and tells Alex how this is an amazing machine you use to attach sparkly beads to clothing. She claims to have made $10,000 selling Bedazzled t-shirts in the past. And then hilarious Housewife Of The Future music plays as she gets on the phone and starts calling around, looking for one of these magical things. But she can't find one. And moreover, every time she's disappointed, she makes this irritating "oh, nooooooo" noise that I guarantee you is not making people want to help her. She does find someone who tells her they have the studs like a Bedazzler would use, and when Tana double-checks that it's in Manhattan, she learns that actually, it's in Staten Island. The woman says she's probably a 45-minute to one-hour trip from where Tana is. Tana makes the following claim in an interview: "I called every arts-and-crafts store in the New York area." Oh, sure. And Manhattan was out of sparkly things. She called every arts-and-crafts store in the New York area, and none of them had any rhinestones. Unless the city had been surprisingly invaded by the Elvis Impersonators On Ice Tour, the Elton John Tailoring Slam, and an enormous pack of rhinestone-eating dogs all at the same time, I'm not buying. She tells us that when she heard that this woman had the rhinestones, she decided she'd go, no matter how far it is. Because Manhattan? Has no beads.
In the cab, we watch Alex and Tana's long, long trip to Staten Island. As they go, Alex tells her that they need to be thinking about how they can get people into the store -- that is, about marketing. Tana says that they can "hire somebody on the street holding a banner," which is the worst idea I ever heard. In fact, my family once debated whether it was even ethical to hire someone to stand on the street and wave a banner outside a Pizza Hut. Although that person appeared…"special," and they're unlikely to choose someone "special," unless Alex takes the job himself. Alex explains that as they were riding out there, he kept trying to get Tana to engage in a discussion about marketing, and she kept putting him off. She takes some phone call or other, and then when she's off, she says they can finish the marketing conversation on the way home. When they arrive at the craft store, Tana is in paradise with the rack of Bedazzler rhinestones. "Long drive for something so small," Alex says unhappily as he loads up the, like, tiny bags of rhinestones. He's thinking they had those in Manhattan, and I'm thinking he's probably right. He steps on his moment of correctness, however, by interviewing most smarmily that he's been keeping a list of Tana's "decisions," which he won't call mistakes until the Boardroom, har har, and he thinks the Staten Island trip was "really dumb." And I can't disagree there.
Magna is having a meeting, and Kendra is talking price. She suggests selling the short-sleeved shirt for $20 and the long-sleeved for $25. "Or something," she adds, waiting for Craig to offer input. "Or something," he says sarcastically. "What is that something?" Well, asshole, that something is a suggestion from you. She's trying to make a proposal while leaving the door open, and that's what the "or something" is, and while she may not have found the most articulate way to say it, you know that's what it is, and you're intentionally being an asshole here, and you're not hiding it very well. Kendra starts to say that if they price it too high -- and he cuts her off. "What's too high?" he asks. "Like, 40 bucks," she answers. "You think 40 bucks for a hoodie is too high?" he asks. God. He is the most passive-aggressive person I have ever seen. He refuses to offer a suggestion when she's clearly asking for one, and then the minute she opens her mouth, he mocks whatever she just said. He's just horrible this week, not that he's been great in past weeks. He goes on to ridicule her notion that 40 bucks is too high for "a unique, limited-edition piece of art," and she says, "I don't feel 100 percent comfortable with it, but I value your perspective, and I'd rather meet you in the middle." She proposes $25 and $30 as prices for the shirts. She also offers the very reasonable suggestion that they can always adjust the price during the day depending on how it goes, to which Craig says -- with no conceivable reason -- that they have to stick with whatever price they choose. Why? Why would you have to do that? Again, that makes no sense, and it thus comes off as just trying to sandbag her completely. He interviews that she "manages time poorly," but it looks to me like that's partly because he simply refuses to engage in a conversation with her without forcing her to pull teeth. I'm no great booster of hers, but I think that in this particular interaction, she's not to blame for how badly it's going. It takes a year to discuss anything with Craig, because he just repeats back whatever she just said and then acts like it's the stupidest thing he ever heard.
As they're leaving at the end of the day, when it's too late to fix anything, Craig starts bitching about the way Kendra managed time, and he insists that he gave her suggestions, but that she scheduled the day the way she wanted. She asks him what things he brought up that he thinks were important, and because he's clearly lying through his teeth about having done it at all, he says, "It's irrelevant, it's gone -- that time is gone!" She tells him she'd like to know, because she doesn't feel like he made her aware of what he was concerned about. "Kendra," he says with utter condescension, "can't you understand you can't hear from me?" So…is he admitting that he didn't actually tell her, but that he thought about telling her and only didn't because she wouldn't listen, and she's somehow on the hook for that? He is such an ass, I swear. He goes on to bitch about how she doesn't listen to him, and she shoots him looks when he tries to talk, and all of that nonsense. Carolyn looks on. Carolyn then interviews that the two of them clearly aren't communicating at all, and their inability to deal with each other is potentially going to hold them back as far as the task. And…seriously. If she was really there for any of that, I can't imagine that Carolyn didn't file that away in the vault, and I can't imagine it didn't reflect more poorly on Craig than on Kendra, because he looked like a total…well, right. Jerk.
Craig and Kendra are still arguing as they get on the elevator, and he insists that she specifically goes out of her way to go the opposite direction from whatever he suggests. Which is patent bullshit, given that she raised the price of the shirts at his suggestion. It's not like she lowered them. He's completely making this up, and one can only hope he's duly embarrassed by it in retrospect, because he has no argument. Kendra asks him again to tell her what he thinks she didn't pay attention to, and he tells her again that "it's irrelevant," because he's still full of shit. His only suggestion is that they have a heart on the shirt after he specifically told her to do the star. So unless she does exactly what he says, she's clearly not listening. No such thing as making a different choice in her capacity as PM -- nope. She's not listening unless she obeys. Typical, and condescending, and -- I fear -- quite a bit sexist.
And then there's this great moment in which Kendra looks at an interviewer and says, "Is it me, or is Craig just a butthole?" And they bleep it out, but she emphasizes the word "butthole" with such enthusiasm that you couldn't miss it unless you were watching a different channel. She adds that because there are only two people on the team, she has nobody to back her up and tell her whether she's being crazy in thinking that he's kind of a dick. Dear Kendra: He's a dick. Sincerely, Miss A. They get in the cab, and they're still arguing. Sigh.
Scoop, the day. Magna is setting up to sell. Kendra tells us that the task was about selling "wearable art." She reminds us that only 288 of these were made, and that's what you want to emphasize. Until, that is, they start selling them at Wal-Mart. (Oh, no. I'm not linking to it. You can find it yourself.) Craig sets up a display that shows the design, and…again, I'm sure pop art is very cool, and I'm sure somebody could tell me why this is supposed to be cool, but again? I would say…this design is lame. At least, "not impressive." If asked to treat it as art, I would decline. I might buy it on the theory that it was a real artist's doodle. (Not that I'm advocating auctioning off the doodles of real artists, or of anyone else, because that's an invasion of privacy.) George comes to visit them, and Kendra tells him that they emailed a bunch of collectors in the city to try to get them to come out. She also says that they're getting ready to "educate" anybody who doesn't already know who the artist is.
They move a few shirts, and Craig tells one guy that the shirts are $25 for the short-sleeved and $35 for the hoodies. Craig says that the decision they made to get the art people into it was a good decision, so at least he's happy with something that went on today. Another woman buys two, and when Craig goes into the cash box, he…maybe doesn't find change? Or something, because he tells the woman that although she's got two hoodies she's buying, he'll give them to her for $60. That's $10 off, you'll note. And it's after the woman has already agreed to buy, so it's not a negotiation. The way the woman is apologizing, I get the sense that it was exactly a change issue, and he just didn't bother figuring out what to do, and just gave her back her last $20 instead of finding $10. Kendra overhears this and comes over to Craig, asking him not to give discounts, since they need every dollar in order to win the task. He tells her that he was only doing it for "multiples," and then snots that it was because she was so worried that the price was too high. And if you think about what a dick move that was if he really did have basically a making-change issue, which I think he did, it will really start to annoy you, I predict. It annoyed me. Not only that, but he uses the naturally condescending word "appease" in claiming he was trying to "appease" Kendra on the price, so…that sucks, too. He sucks!
Net Worth. Alex constitutes "marketing," and he's basically out on the sidewalk bothering people. Great job! He sets up a big sign and just starts hanging out. Inside, Tana giggles that she really hopes everyone likes the glued-on beads. And her explanation of how the rhinestones make the shirt more "ooh," and "a little fancier," is so irritating, she could be a Bravo reality show star. "You feel like you're wearing diamonds," she says. HA HA HA! Yeah. Totally. Diamonds glued onto your t-shirt. That's exactly how it feels. Outside, Alex tries to stop a few people, but they're all totally uninterested. And I can't really blame them. Tana shows a woman inside their shirts, and after talking the woman into the shirt, she asks if the woman would like Tana to "stud [it] up" for her. Eww. The woman agrees, but she looks kind of skeptical. Tana claims in an interview that they sold more of the rhinestone shirts than the non-rhinestone shirts. Nothing like glued-on rhinestones that interfere with the art and make the thing much harder to wash. Tana shows off their shirt for George, and Tana reports that the men's shirts are $42.99, and the women's shirts are $54.99. Because of the rhinestones. Bleeeech. George interviews that he thinks the task will be won on price -- Net Worth picked a price about twice as high as Magna's, so they'll have to see how it pans out. And…not twice the price, but I get the idea. "I don't know," he says. "We'll see."
It approaches 3:00 PM, and when the witching hour comes, the sales are over for the day.
Later, the teams enter the Boardroom, still wearing their respective shirts, to receive the task results. When Trump enters, he asks how things went, and Tana says it was "a lot of fun." He looks at their shirts and admires them, and asks both teams how they did. Of course, both teams think they did well. Magna is asked who did the selling, and Craig initially says, "That would be me." But when Kendra points out that they both did, he admits that's right. So then why did he say it was just him? Jerk. And: dishonest. Trump tries to start a fight by asking who sold better, and Kendra says she thinks she did, and Craig says he doesn't agree, and blah blah blah. I'm so over them sniping, because she bores me, basically, and he just plain sucks. Trump asks Alex how it went for them, and Alex said great -- he was on the street, and Tana was inside.
And now, results. George reports that Net Worth sold 33 shirts for a total of $1,147.95. As someone pointed out, that's an average of $34.78, so it appears that they may have had to cut those prices and they still only sold 33 shirts. Carolyn reports that Magna sold shirts for $25 and $35, and "tapped into the artist's fan base." They sold 101 shirts for a total of $2,705. That is not a close result, y'all. That's a righteous whomping. Trump congratulates Magna, then taunts Tana and Alex about having been winners, and now being losers. Losers! Sigh. Trump tells the teams that the teams will be buried, and after this, no more teams. But one more person will be fired from Net Worth, and then the final three will go against each other. And Kendra and Craig are going out into fighter jets to dogfight each other as their reward. No, really! He asks if either of them has a problem with airsickness, and Kendra excitedly says, "My father was a Top Gun instructor!", which forces Craig to point out that his father was in the Air Force, and I actually think it's fairly genuine when Kendra puts her hand on his arm, kind of like, "Okay, that time, I wasn't trying to one-up you, I swear." Trump tells them that they'll have a great time. Net Worth? Not so much. They'll be coming to the Boardroom later.
Later, Tana tells us that she was "devastated" at the loss. "For the first time," she says, "Tana doesn't have her happy smile on." She sits down with Alex, who tells her that in all likelihood, he'll be the one going tomorrow, with the four consecutive losses. You can tell she thinks so, too, even though she pretends to be nervous that it could go either way. Alex tells her "it's been a good ride," but he interviews that the last five tasks have been "rough." He doesn't know if "offensive weaponry" could turn things around.
Kendra and Craig head out for their reward. She interviews that the task was a catfight, so it made sense that the reward was a dogfight. They suit up, and Craig interviews, a little nonsensically, that he could take Kendra on in aerial combat "without a plane." Like, jumping on trampolines? I'm so confused. They are locked into their planes. There's not much to report about this, except that it looks like low-rent Top Gun, and Kendra wins. Which is cool, because Craig was such an asshole throughout this entire episode. I hate rewards.
Later at the L-Pal, Alex and Kendra chat. Alex says his attitude is that Trump will want to fire him, and he has to give a reason why Trump should fire Tana instead. Kendra looks at him sympathetically, because she really hopes he gets fired. Kendra asks him if he has "enough arsenal," and Alex insists that if it were just this task, Tana would be fired "in a heartbeat" for all her dumb mistakes. Tana, meanwhile, talks to Craig, who tells her that she should push the marketing failure off on Alex. "He doesn't have the drive," Craig insists. Tana returns to her record as project manager, saying she's won twice and lost once. Craig nods. Out in the suite, Alex and Tana hug and pretend to like each other. Alex insists that he's "smarter than Tana" and "harder than Tana" (ew), and thus, he won't be fired. Snerk. "Just because I'm friendly and I'm nice, doesn't mean I can't whoop you up and down the street," he adds unconvincingly. The only thing Alex has ever whooped up and down the street, I guarantee you, is a tennis ball chased by a lapdog. Ridiculous.
Ding! Alex and Tana go into the Boardroom and meet up with George and Carolyn. You know, again. Tana is wearing an insane quantity of blush. Trump enters, and he tells them they're getting near the end. He asks Tana how Alex did, and Tana says he was "fair." Asked how Tana did, Alex says that as the PM, Tana didn't focus on the objective, and that she was terrible as a "delegator." He comes up with this gem: "Nobody was specifically in charge of marketing." "There are only two people," George says in disbelief. "Who's going to be specifically in charge of marketing?" Heh. Well, seriously. When there are two of you and it's a marketing task, it's a little incredible to be like, "Not my department!" Alex says he volunteered for the "signage" and the flyers, but he thinks they failed by selling t-shirts, rather than "art." George says he thinks they had certain advantages in that they had an artist and a limited edition, but they didn't advertise that it was a collector's item. Tana argues that she told people in the store that it was a collector's item. "We learned very quickly that no one was interested in our artist," she snots. Well, sure. Because you didn't go get his fans, dummy. Does she really believe they'd be given an artist no one cares about? You just have to find the people, and they're not necessarily going to come and find you. Alex says that they didn't "target art connoisseurs." Just hearing Alex use the word "connoisseurs" makes me want to punch him.
George asks this question: "What did you do right?" Well, seriously. Tana insists that they designed a great shirt. Pfft. She also congratulates herself on the beads. She claims that the beads were the reason she could add $12 to the price of the women's shirts, not that she tried selling the women's shirts without the beads for the same price. Trump asks her if she thinks it mattered, and she tells him the story of her Salt Lake City Bedazzled t-shirts on which she made $10,000. You know what aren't exactly identical settings? A family-oriented tourist trap like the Olympics on one hand, and a self-consciously hip t-shirt store in Manhattan on the other. Seriously. And you might think one of those would favor glued-on rhinestones more than the other. I mean, the Olympics are basically like Branson, Missouri exploded. Tana has another theory, fortunately: "We would have beat Magna if we would have sold 20 more t-shirts," she says. Dude. That's more than half again as many as you sold. "We would have won if we had just sold way more than we actually did! If we had done a much better job, we'd have beaten those guys!" Mm-hmm. Exactly.
Carolyn chastises Tana for not making any use of the artist or the artist's fan base. Trump agrees, and he says that they might have even had a better shirt, in which case their marketing failure is even worse. Alex says that he told Tana they needed to come up with a marketing plan, but Tana was freaking out over perfecting the shirt so much that she didn't pay any attention. Which appeared to be sort of true. Trump says that you have to do both, and Alex agrees. Tana agrees that they lost the task on marketing, and she says that in tasks, Alex had been "the marketer." So of course, she figured he would be here, too. "I assumed that he was the marketer, he was the marketing king," she says. "I figured he would have covered all the areas," she says, with her blush still totally distracting me. Trump asks her whether she just assumed Alex would do marketing, or whether she put him in charge. She claims to have put him in charge, but Alex insists that she didn't. Trump asks Alex who was in charge of marketing, and Alex says nobody was. "That's probably the most accurate answer given tonight," Trump says. Trump sends them out so he can talk to the Viceroys. As they leave, Tana whispers, "My beads, they didn't like my beads!" Okay, when you're already the lady who glues rhinestones on t-shirts and says "bling" inappropriately, you can't really afford to talk to yourself a whole lot.
George says he thinks Alex showed "more fire," and they agree that Tana has none. Carolyn says that Tana is a good salesperson, and a "nice, sweet person," but when Trump asks if she can see Tana working for him, Carolyn says she can't, really, after the conversation they just had. He has Robin send Alex and Tana back in.
Trump asks Tana why the other team killed her in marketing, and Tana says that it happened because the other team targeted the art galleries and marketed the shirts as art. "Why aren't you blaming Alex?" he demands to know. Because Trump loves blaming, of course. Tana says she is -- he asked who was in charge of marketing, and she said Alex was. Alex protests that he told Tana they needed to take a minute and think through the marketing issue. And she wouldn't, because she wanted to go to Staten Island. This causes Trump to ask what was up with Staten Island, so Tana has to tell him. You know, how Manhattan was out of sparkly things. "You couldn't have gotten them in Manhattan?" he asks. "No, they were sold out," Tana says. "Sold…out," Trump says in disbelief. And, heh, exactly. Trump calls this "inconceivable," that in the world's fashion capital, there were no sparkly things. Furthermore, if Manhattan ever ran out of sparkly things, Trump would die. Tana defends herself by saying she was looking for the machine, the Bedazzler itself, but Trump returns to what a long trip that is, and how dumb it was when time was short. Carolyn asks Tana whether she ever stopped to think whether maybe she was spending a little too much time on the bead aspect, and needed to put energy elsewhere. Tana starts to babble, and Carolyn says, "Tana, they're beads. They're five little beads, on a t-shirt." Tana insists they made a difference, and Trump says that they certainly did make a difference -- they took up so much of her time that she didn't get her ass in gear, sales-wise. Alex jumps in, probably unwisely, trying to pile on with the fact that they should have sat down and figured out a marketing plan of some kind.