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In an episode that clearly delineates the ways in which the interests of a fan and the interests of a recapper diverge, we begin with a 20-minute -- I kid you not -- recap of the entire season to date. And we wind up with (I counted!) approximately 25 minutes of actual content, in which Tana's team gives her lukewarm reviews, Kendra's team loves her, and we learn that the two women are not being offered construction jobs, but instead a choice between the Miss Universe pageant and remodeling a pretty house. Which is either disgustingly sexist or wretchedly clumsy, depending on whether it was intentional. At any rate, they do everything they can to convince you that the really odd-looking Tana is in the race, even after she freaks out and cheers for herself and acts even more obnoxious than she's ever been before. But it's Kendra all the way, and indeed, she takes the crown, such as it is. We have swung, in short, from one extreme to the other, from last year's bloated, endless, navel-gazing finale in which everyone down to the ushers at the theater was asked to opine about the candidates, to this year's flash of non-brilliance in which a weirdly unsatisfying season ends not with a bang but with a whimper. Of course, it's not a whimper in which Tana wins anything, so at least there's that. Look forward to the three-page recap. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Okay, there's really no way to say this except to just say it: the previouslys and the first set of commercials take 20 minutes. I'm not kidding. They take 20 minutes. One-third of this one-hour finale consists of Trump voice-overs in which he tells us about things that have already occurred. He reminds us of every fool he's already fired, and he fusses over the stories of the final tasks. You can read all of the recaps for the 16 episodes if you like. Because I'm saying? Twenty minutes. Great for those of us navigating the end of threecap season; not so great for those of us who have better things to do than look at each other going, "Oh, yes, I remember that early episode, in which the task was to run a dinosaur-washing business out of Central Park." This makes 17 episodes plus a clip show, people. Ken Burns couldn't drag this out any more. Can we get on with it, before my retinas have to be replaced by futuristic doodads? Because I don't want to say it's possible to make me tired of watching TV, but…really, y'all. Really.
When the long national nightmare of nostalgia is over, we swoop into the live hall, where a big plasma screen is presenting the show logo, and the live band is playing the music -- not the O'Jays' opening theme, but the end theme that accompanies the non-fired contestants back to the suite. "Dum-dum -- dum-dum -- dum-dum -- da-da-da-da-da-da dum-dum -- dum-dum," and so forth. Only they're doing it with sort of a hipster beat that's not working for me at all. I feel like I'm at the worst awards dinner ever. Which, come to think of it, I sort of am. The announcer informs us that we are at New York University, which apparently really needs money to pay for…I don't know, khakis and beer or whatever. ["More like nose rings and beer, but: same principle." -- Sars] We see Tana and Kendra. And it wasn't until a few people pointed it out that I really put my finger on it, but it does look -- and I emphasize look, because I have no information -- like Tana had a little something done between the shooting of the episodes and the finale. Her nose looks different, her teeth look different…her entire face looks more flat and balanced. It's possible that it's just that she had access to proper television makeup and somebody to tell her to make her hair less poodle-rrific, but I'm voting for Extreme Makeover: Iowa Edition.
For whatever reason, the Boardroom set has been rejiggered to resemble a courtroom instead, with Trump sitting up on the bench. It's like Trump isn't just hiring and firing -- he's granting pardons and condemnations. Trump judges you and your mortal soul! To one side of him, and at a lower level (obviously) are George and Boyfriend Bill. To the other, Carolyn and Kelly. Off in the "jury box," scribbling notes to each other and waving to their moms because almost none of them will get to talk, are the previously eliminated contestants, sorted into Magnamians and Net Worthians. Book Smarts! Street Smarts! No smarts at all! And at what would be counsel table, we see Tana and Kendra. I really…don't understand taking a show with an iconic set, like the Boardroom set, and moving the entire thing to what looks like a courtroom. I mean, don't get me wrong -- I love Judge Mathis, and I really, really love Marilyn Milian. But if there's nobody there to look at Trump and tell him he's not fooling anyone and he did too key that person's car, it's just not the same.
Anyway, the audience burns some more time as Trump ineffectually -- and looking rather bored, I must say -- waggles his hand like the audience is supposed to shut up. Of course, Trump doesn't really want them to shut up, because Trump never wants anyone to shut up, because he's Trump, after all, and the more noise you make, the more important he becomes. From the mad cheering, I would say these people clearly believe that they are here to see something else entirely and are about to be sorely disappointed. I'm not kidding -- if you consider the amount of substance in this show, the screaming live crowd will indeed begin to look a little funny. And borderline tragic, because they aren't even going to be here long enough to need a potty break.
Trump turns immediately to Tana. "You lost control of your team," he tells her. "Absolutely not," she cuts in. Because this was not a question, Trump ignores her response and goes on. "You laughed at your team. You called them the Three Stooges." Tana says that she "did poke fun," and Trump wants to know why. He doesn't believe in making fun of your employees, after all. He thinks you should just call them total losers and be up front about it. Tana calls the trash-talking "a mistake on [her] part," because she kind of has to. The stooges are in the room, after all. It's not like she can start talking about which one is the Shemp.
Tana does everything she can to suck up in case her team is asked to comment on her performance, saying that she couldn't have done the task without her team's help, which would be a lot more convincing if she hadn't been not only shit-talking them to Carolyn endlessly, but also insulting them to everyone she could find at the event. This is one of those "how dumb do you think we are?" moments that make you wonder whether people hear themselves. Or see themselves on television. Or read about themselves on the internet, not that I recommend that. The fact is that nothing she says now is going to make up for those little faces she was making for the camera behind Kristen's back and all of that. I mean, talking about how you "had to depend on these three idiots" is not the kind of thing you can later claim you were saying to rally the troops. Tana says she shouldn't have "judge[d] them on their experience," which is a hilarious and passive-aggressive way of saying they still sucked, but she shouldn't have assumed the sucking would continue. I think she honestly believes that she's being called out for misjudging them, which is totally not the point. Idiots or not, stooges or not, Trump is talking about how she talked to and about them, not whether she correctly assessed their talents or lack thereof.
Incidentally, my favorite thing happening over in the jury box while Tana tries to dig out of this particular hole is that Audrey is looking at Tana like, "Are you fucking kidding me?" Angie is smiling a little bit encouragingly, and the rest of them are stone-faced, but Audrey is unmistakably amused. Tana tells Trump that her team "pulled through," which is apparently why she complained in the Boardroom about how bad her team was. Does she forget about the part where she was already on camera? Talking about this stuff? After the fact?
Trump also asks Tana about the way she toddled off to the car in that juvenile way, waiting for the team to get in the SUV and yakking about how she wanted to feel like an executive. It turns out that Donald Trump, of all people, finds it a little tiresome when you endlessly act like a complete preening jackhole. Tana, still scrabbling around looking for that exit door, insists that this has something to do with the fact that her "sense of humor didn't come out." What? That sequence was supposed to be funny? When…she was going on about letting them leave so they could feel like employees? Oh, right. I remember that. It was right up there with rubber chickens and sprayed seltzer when it comes to the big-time hilarity. You know, I used to think hypocrisy was my least favorite thing on reality television, but I have to admit that sometimes, especially when I'm tired, it's just utter fucking nonsense that I hate the most.
Tana makes some weird comment about her teammates being the ones who can afford the limo, and then she's back on the topic of her "sense of humor," and I don't get it at all. I realize that she fancies herself a pretty adept salesperson, but I don't think anyone in the room, or anyone in America watching on television, is buying this particular line of crap. Why doesn't anyone ever take the opportunities that are presented to save their dignity? Reunion shows, post-show interviews…suck it up! Take your medicine! You'll come off so much better! Ah, well. Trump points out to Tana that her team kind of hated her, which she probably knows. She says she doesn't blame them. Again, she kind of has to say that, because everyone has seen what a total jerk she was. The best part of all, perhaps, is where Tana says that in the end, she led her team successfully. So let me get this straight. They walked away hating her, and she walked away saying that she did the whole thing herself. Remember, she said: "The reality is, I did this on my own. There was no love." Tana was not ambiguous about what she thought of her team, either personally or with regard to their contributions, including after the task was over. What does she think she's going to say now that's going to change that, as opposed to just making her look like a big weasel? I'm not saying Trump might not understand a certain level of weaselocity (represented, of course, by the Weaselocity gnome), but I'm not sure this "I sincerely love my team, sir" thing is going anywhere. Anyway, in spite of her team hating her and her devaluing of their contributions, she continues to believe that she successfully led them. One has to wonder what inept leadership would look like.
Trump says it sounds like Tana is saying she made a mistake, and she agrees. He wants to know, then, why she should win. After all, no one who makes mistakes is good at anything! She calmly says, in a speech it appears she's been through a bunch of times in the bathroom mirror (which is pink, natch), that she learns from her mistakes. She also proudly points out that she's "personally apologized" to everyone on her team. I'm sure her apologies were totally sincere, too, and not at all motivated by this here live finale that was upcoming at the time those apologies were made. And I bet the conversation between Tana and Brian was as warm as a pair of fuzzy mittens. Interestingly, this is the part where Trump basically tells Tana she's probably going to lose. Which he states in the form of "you have an uphill battle." It's tempting to think Trump is messing with us, but what's funny about Trump is that he's often weirdly guileless, for a guy with that hair. Sometimes he plays the hand open, which is exactly what he's doing here. "You suck," he is telling her. "Got anything else you'd like to say?"
Now, Trump returns to the (I think) fairly idiotic matter of the American flag, which I think there are a million reasons not to be able to find, not to mention the fact that he already freaking asked her about it last week. I'm not sure why we're repeating the entire set of questions, as if he's giving them a second shot at explaining everything according to the new version of reality that they have had the chance to construct in their heads while watching themselves on television. Tana, for instance, has a new explanation for the flag. Her explanation was that she had believed the American flag would be in the box of world flags and it wasn't, but her new explanation is that someone stole it. She says she had a volunteer "assess all [her] flags," and the American flag was there, but then it was gone. (Incidentally, if you were one of those people who believed Tana had the harder task, which she probably did, keep that mention in mind. It's hard to know how hard the task was without knowing what the resources were, and I suspect Tana may have had a veritable platoon of volunteers to work for her that would never have been available to Kendra, since videogame championships don't so much bring out the philanthropists.) Anyway, Tana suspects flagnapping! And you know, if you call John Ashcroft, he will totally take some FBI guys away from their hard work polishing his guitar case to look into that. Because the flag is precious, and it's actually too precious to be squandered on anything as stupid as, like, rights. At any rate, in spite of having just deflected the blame for the disappearing flag onto someone else, Tana apologizes anyway for "let[ting] Governor Pataki down." She shouldn't feel bad. She did offer him a donut.
Now, Trump turns to Kendra. "I don't like crying," he declares. This in spite of -- say it with me -- having told her last week that he doesn't mind crying and there's nothing wrong with it. What the hell is going on with this? Is this just the alternative mix of the Boardroom from last week, where everyone says the opposite of what he or she said the first time? Is this Rashomon, and this is Tana's version? ["And I'm going to wonder, probably not for the last time, why they didn't show the Boardroom footage of the teammates instead. Because unless they used racial slurs while product-placing Hilton Properties and Pizza Hut, there's really no reason we didn't see that." -- Sars] For whatever reason, Trump now hates crying, and he asks Kendra if it's a sign of weakness. "Absolutely not," she says. "I've seen 300-pound linebackers cry as they raise a Super Bowl trophy." So now she's having to come up with a new way to defend something about which she was previously reassured by this same questioner in an episode we just saw. I am not taking the remedial class, here, people. God. I don't need a gold star just for not poking myself in the eye with a crayon. Anyway. The audience screams wildly at the linebacker thing, because Kendra's rehearsed line was way better than Tana's. For a split second, Kendra narrows her eyes at Trump and sets her mouth in a pouty line that makes me think she's about to do -- I am not kidding -- her Richard Nixon impression. Call me crazy; that's what I see. But then she grins, and Trump laughs, and Nixon is forgotten, and Trump's red tie bobs with this merry air of inevitability. Oh, Kendra. You had him at "300-pound linebacker."
Kendra has more, though: "I learned very quickly in business that one person is quickly trampled by the right team." Like Tana was! Although that was her own team, and I'm not sure that's what Kendra means by "right team," but it was still funny. Instead, Kendra says that she had the "right team" herself, and she was "touched." They trampled her! Or they trampled Tana. Does "trample" belong in this discussion? Because I sort of can't stop saying it myself. Trample! Maybe it's because it sounds like "tramp." I am so tired. Okay, so Kendra says she felt pride and stuff, even. Trump admits immediately that the crying about which he just complained was "a pretty nice cry." Which he said last week. Why are we here? WHY? I NEED A MARGARITA!
And now. Trump goes over to Kristen, who is now blonde, which looks ridiculous on her. He says to her, "Kristen, she cried, in a certain way, over you. What did you think? What did you think of Kendra?" Now, of course, Kristen wasn't on Kendra's team and doesn't know Kendra, so Kristen sits there like she's thinking somebody is about to tap Trump and tell him that he meant to say "Erin." Or else he meant to say "Tana." Or else he meant to waggle his fingers in his ears and sing "Camptown Races." But nobody provides any reminders. So Kristen just sits. Un! Comfortable! "Come on," Trump repeats impatiently. "Kristen." Somebody tries to bail out the big guy by softly saying, "Erin?" but Trump says, "No, I'm talking to Kristen." Because he is a trifle confused, but that doesn't make him any less determined, which is how many of his extremely not-successful casinos have been built. Poor Kristen has to soldier on, because she just kind of…does, but Trump does hedge just slightly at the end, saying, "What did you think of Kendra, what did you think of Tana?" Kendra almost looks like she's about to correct Trump herself, then she thinks better of it. Because perhaps that's not the best foot to put forward, the correcting-Trump foot. Kristen gamely wanders into the muck of answering this question, saying that she has, ahem, "never worked with Kendra before." She talks about working with Tana, and says Tana "did a great job," and claims that Olympians came up and claimed it was "one of the best events they've ever been to." The small pro-Tana contingent in the crowd cheers anemically. You can hear individual "woo!"s, though, so you know it's not much. So, Trump says, it sounds like Kristen thought Tana did well. Kristen says she did, and talks admiringly about Tana's decision to "humble [her]self" and admit she was wrong. Is it real humility when you still want something? I'm thinking it's not. I'm telling you, I can't see accepting that apology. It's not like Tana lost her temper with them. She sat around afterwards saying that she did the entire thing herself and there was "no love," and she talked all day about how they were all "idiots," and she made all those faces…why accept her apology? I'd be tempted to tell her to go get bent, myself. ["It's telling also that the apology wasn't repeated on-camera. Tana said she apologized, but she merely told us that; she didn't apologize again, so it came off all, 'What? I said I was sorry.'" -- Sars]
Now, Erin is asked about Kendra. Erin does not share Kristen's bad hair situation nor Kristen's fundamental tentativeness. Erin thinks Kendra was "inspiring," and says with enthusiasm that when she was fired, she and Kendra weren't even speaking, but they wound up doing great. She manages not to even say it with her teeth clenched, like Kristen did. Erin reminds Trump that the returning "employees" basically had no reason to give a damn, and somehow, the Magnamians wound up giving a damn. That actually is fairly high praise; more than "she did a good job apologizing for ridiculing us on national television." "We certainly weren't stooges," Erin says, getting her dig in, "we were valued employees." Michael starts to applaud, and Kendra makes this really funny face like, "Dude, that was so awesome! You rule!" and applauds a little herself, but with her arms mostly out, like she's clapping at Erin. You know who else claps? Brian. The "stooge." Ohhhh, burn! Maybe Tana's apology wasn't 100 percent effective.
Trump asks Kendra how she responds to that compliment, and Kendra says that she's "very flattered." Trump shows his usual grace in telling her it's such a softball that she shouldn't even try to answer, and they'll just take a commercial. Seriously. I'm winded, aren't you? We've had four whole minutes of content!
When we return, we peek in on "Tana's Hometown Party" in Altoona, Iowa, where all the ladies are putting powder on each other. Well, I assume they've just finished doing that. And Tana will be around to collect, believe me. Tana waves as if she cares, but secretly, she thinks Iowa is made up entirely of stooges. And then we are back to Trump, who nods gravely for some reason, apparently at random. Oh, here's why -- he's talking about how seriously he takes this hiring process, hee hee. And then he points out that he's already hired two people who have been awesome -- Boyfriend Bill and non-Boyfriend Kelly. Everyone claps politely, because they're splitting the difference between the Boyfriend Bill level of awesome and the Kelly level of not really caring, in a sort of detached, military way. Trump tells someone to "roll the tape," and then we are watching a bunch of total bullshit about how these two guys are totally setting the world on fire. They're practically running the Trump empire, you know. We watch Boyfriend Bill say -- and, tragically, this is no lie -- "Another day, another dollar." I think Boyfriend Bill is his own grandpa, in a certain sense. There is pimping of the Chicago process, and an attempt to make Bill's big-boy job sound really awesome. There's Boyfriend Bill, sitting in a meeting! Important! I will bet you a hundred dollars that Boyfriend Bill carries around several sharpened pencils.
Kelly, meanwhile, has been spending part of his time selling Trump Ice, which is…seriously the saddest thing I ever heard. When they finally hire someone to sell Trump bobbleheads, the circle will be complete. Kelly turns out to be an even worse actor than Boyfriend Bill, as he tries to look tough in a meeting with a guy who could probably tear him in half like a pixie stick, in spite of being ten years older than Kelly and a Democrat.
And then, we are back, live! Sigh. Trump asks Kelly for his opinion of how the Army experience has been helpful in business, and didn't we all just totally tune in to see this? I care! I do! I care! Okay, I don't. Kelly blathers some hoo-hah about teamwork and passion and the inspiration provided by green undies and whatnot, and I could not be more bored. "Excuse me," Trump says, "do you love working for Trump?" "I love it," Kelly insists. Trump isn't satisfied. "You love it?" he asks again. "Absolutely, absolutely," Kelly says. "WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" Trump demands to know. Okay, I'm exaggerating. But not much. What he does say is, "Say it like a West Point cadet. Come on." You know, I may make a note of that line. I might find occasion to use it. "Say it like a West Point cadet." Seriously. Purr it to yourself. See? Promising! Anyway. Kelly: "Hoo-ah." He is a giant ball of personality, that one. The upside is that he makes Boyfriend Bill look like a real lampshade-on-the-head kind of guy.
Trump makes a rather porny reference to having just "extended Bill" (hee), and Bill grins, and…wow, he has aged a billion years. His face is suddenly all skinny and pointy. It's like all the fluid has drained out of it or something, and his teeth look funny, and his hair is too square, and…Boyfriend Bill, what have they done to you? Bill tries his hardest to say it like a ten-dollar hooker -- I mean, "West Point cadet" -- when he insists that he "had a great year." And he's learned a lot, et cetera. Boyfriend Bill is asked for his opinion on the remaining candidates. He says that they should both be honored to be here. He tells Tana that he thinks she's a "hustler," which is oddly appropriate, but that to lead people successfully, you kind of can't ridicule them constantly, because you have to "bring out the best" in them. Kelly, over on the other side, makes a face and mocks Trump, all, "Nyah, nyah, 'say it like a West Point cadet.'" At least that's what's happening in the version playing in my head. Tana jumps in to insist that her team was very motivated, and they think she was "a great enthusiast." She insists that it wasn't a "Tana task," it was a "Net Worth/Street Smarts task." So don't listen to the part where she declared right after it was over that she did the whole thing herself. She totally didn't mean it. "I still don't think your team likes you very much," Trump says. "Why don't you ask them, Mr. Trump?" Tana chirps, thinking this is in the bag. He says he's going to. But not before a commercial. We must have a commercial! What do you think this is, a marathon? Trump is made of flesh and blood, people. Flesh and blood! (And space-age polymers.)
When we return, Trump explains that he has "over a hundred companies," but there are two from which the ladies -- and I do mean ladies -- will be choosing. And they'll be picking before they know who wins. The first company is Miss Universe, which Trump calls "one of [his] favorite enterprises." I'll bet. Anyway, so this is the Beauty Pageant job. The other job is renovating a giant mansion in Florida, with Trump not even saying what the mansion is ultimately for. His personal residence? Hard to say. So that's the Decorating job. Jesus Christ. I'm not saying those aren't both huge jobs, because they totally are, and it's totally dick to devalue a corporate job in fashion or -- actually -- makeup, just because it's in fashion or makeup. It doesn't mean they're actually lesser jobs. HOWEVER. All of a sudden, we have two women in the final, and now it's a choice between a beauty pageant and a "remodel" of a fancy-schmancy hideaway? That's a coincidence? I don't believe it. Where's the job with the hardhat? Oh, right. There isn't one. Because girls don't like to get their fingernails dirty. These assholes.
So we first go to Tana. Which job would she take? "Absolutely the Miss Universe pageant, without a doubt," she says. Bleh. She would. She applauds for herself like a seal. Is it over yet? When Trump goes over to Kendra, she is equally certain that she would take the mansion. Real estate is her thing, the property is in Florida…not even close. She also refers to what a good "transition into the Trump organization" it would be for her. Trump calls this "very good." Seriously, is it over?
The audience cheers, and then Trump starts in about the sponsors, including Pontiac, and how well everyone did. It has nothing to do with anything, but he has to say it, because the Mark Burnett Accounting Firm and Alligator Wrestling Company promised everyone another mention before the end of the season.
And now? It is time to speak to Chris. What did he think of Tana? Chris calls her a "good leader" with "an incredible personality." However, he says that after seeing the show, he has to question her lack of "loyalty and integrity to her team." Hee. Meaning, "I cannot believe how much she shit-talked us, and that the best thing she could think of to say about me during the Walk of Dead Apprentices was that I was good-looking." Tana has an absolutely numb, flat-eyed expression as he says this and she realizes that Chris is actually about to sandbag her. Which he is. But first, Trump asks Chris whether he was "disappointed" or "excited" by Tana. Chris can't make heads or tails of that any more than I can, so he's like, "Er, excited?" I really, really hate where this is going, but then Trump suddenly blurts out that he can't believe Chris is so calm, like he expected him to get into a fistfight or something, which sucks a little bit, because I'm sure Chris can feel embarrassed by his failings without help. Chris plays it off and tries to get back to his answer, which is that he wasn't "overly inspired," and he thinks that Kendra and her "real estate background" are a better fit for the organization. Tana jumps in, insisting that Chris never worked with Kendra. In other words, "She could suck just as bad! He doesn't know!" Good one! Trump points out that Chris did live with Kendra, after all, and knows a little bit about her. Chris adds that while he didn't work with Kendra on the show, "Outside the show, I've been involved in some things that we are potentially going to be doing together." The entire audience is twelve, so they all go, "Ooooooh!", and someone wolf-whistles. So Chris starts loudly clarifying that he's talking about business -- BUSINESS! Seriously. Chris would never sleep with a girl like Kendra who balances her own checkbook. Trump encourages Kendra to respond "quickly." "We're trying to save your reputation here," Trump says. Of course, it would be her reputation and not Chris's at stake, right? Right? Because she's the girl, and if they were having a fling, that would make her a bad person. Sex is wrong for girls! Unless they are models! Sleeping with billionaires! You know, between his old-fashioned beliefs about purity and his ownership of the Miss Universe pageant, I am sometimes amazed that Trump's head doesn't explode from all the cognitive dissonance he must be experiencing. Maybe he's not bright enough to experience it. Kendra clarifies that she and Chris are working on something in Vegas. But not like that! I'm not helping her reputation any, boy howdy! Now, Trump cuts her off. Which is a relief.
Because…Carolyn! She needs to talk now, before we run out of time. Carolyn says that they're both "spectacular women," but as to the last task, she has this to say: "I don't think a bad sense of humor is an excuse for the way you led your team." Carolyn rules all, as usual. "I was not impressed the way you led your team," she says simply. "However," Carolyn says, "up until that point, I think you were fantastic." And she calls Tana "a very good salesperson." Which is basically what a lot of subpar candidates on this show have been. All sales, no management potential. Carolyn turns to Kendra, complimenting her on the great job she did on the final task. She thinks Kendra came to the PM job too late, however.
And now, more commercials before I pass out from overexertion!
When we get back, we find that Assorama is at the finale. And with her busy schedule. It's great she fit this in.
Trump scowls. He turns to George, and everyone cheers, because who rocks the house? George rocks the house. And when he rocks the house, he rocks it…well, you know. Anyway, he opens by saying that they're both good and he's glad not to have to make the choice. But as to Tana, he also did not like the way she treated her team. Very bad. He also brings up her bullshit answer during the Pontiac task about taking her exempt ass to bed. Awesome! Man, I love it that he brought that up -- love! George, you are my hero, totally. "That didn't sit well with me," he says. Yay! However, he says that she has "more brilliant ideas and raw enthusiasm" than maybe anyone he's ever seen. I'm not sure I saw her come up with any brilliant ideas, but I'll take the raw enthusiasm -- again, it's why she's a good salesperson. Moving over to Kendra, George says he didn't like it that she "stayed under the radar" for so long. I cannot tell you how awesome I think it is when George uses the internet lingo. I want him to tell Kendra that she could have been Pagonged. However, he does say that Kendra had "times of brilliance," as it turned out. He says that with Pontiac, she "hit a home run," and on the last task, she "hit the ball out of the park." So George sees it as a balance between two women, either of whom would be a "great acquisition."
Trump asks Kendra if she thinks her education is an advantage. As carefully as she can, Kendra says that she believes it is, but she also believes that the nine people from Street Smarts are very good at what they do. She thinks education is about "learning from other people's mistakes," while experience is about "learning from your own." So she thinks combining the two is ideal. Tana, on the other hand, says that she might have some disadvantage not having her degree, but she does have a "college education." In fact, she happily points out, she's only 28 credits short of her degree. That's a full-time year, y'all. Incidentally, Villanova, not the University of Virginia. I went flopsy in the head there last week, and I hope some of you (read: the University of Virginia) will forgive me for being wrong, while others of you (read: Villanova) will forgive me for revealing the truth. But anyway. She's suddenly claiming that in addition to her degree from "the school of hard knocks" (yuck), she's "almost ready to graduate college." Yeah. Only a full-time year away. Planning on taking one class a semester at night, dear? Yeah. That's going to take you about four years. So not quite almost ready. Trump doesn't really care, so he cuts her off, saying she's "doing just fine," by which he means, "doomed anyway, so shut it."
Now, Trump asks Kendra why, when she did well with the brochure, why she allowed her team to take credit for it in the presentation with Pontiac. Kendra says that she's "a team player." She says that she wanted to present it to Pontiac as a team effort, and whatever went on behind the scenes in terms of people sleeping or whatever, Pontiac didn't need to know about. She also says that she believes in giving credit where credit is due, "even if it's one small decision."
And now, the Self-Destruction of the Tananator begins in earnest. Tana jumps in, saying that on that task, she was "the reason that the Pontiac CEOs loved that brochure." See, we were denied the information that Tana is the one who came up with the idea to make the brochure round. …Round! Tana's idea! To make it round! What I love is that the audience at this suck-up fest actually starts booing her, which is, like, amazing, like someone being openly booed on fucking American Idol. The crowd openly booing one of the final two? Shocking. Anyway, Tana says you can ask Kendra, and Kendra says that Tana did "come up with the idea that it should be a circle." "Thank you! Thank you!" Tana yells as her smallish contingent in the audience cheers. And then she starts to loudly applaud herself. And then she pumps her fist. Tana crazy! Trump says that until that point, he hadn't been aware that Tana was behind the round shape. "Thank you!" Tana says, thrusting her fist out again. "I knew it!" Trump says the shape was part of the reason Pontiac liked it, and Tana starts leaning right over Kendra towards Trump, pointing her finger and insisting that the fact that it was round was the reason -- meaning the only reason -- it was successful. Yep. Nothing to do with the striking colors, the awesome photographs, the spare but effective copy, that great front cover that incorporated the grill… no. Just the fact that it was round. That was the whole thing. Anyway, she continues yelling about "the shape, baby!", and she's pumping her fist harder and harder, and she looks more and more like a total loon. "The shape!" she yells again. "Was the reason that they loved it!" And her insane harping on this one point is just about the most desperate, inappropriate, can't-read-the-room thing she could possibly have done, really. Up until this point, she was really just kind of a little much, and sort of a bitch. Now, she's a nutbar.
"DON'T GET ME STARTED!" Tana says aggressively toward Trump. "THAT SHAPE IS THE REASON THAT THEY LOVED IT! AND I DIDN'T GET CREDIT! AND CRAIG DIDN'T GET CREDIT!" Tana asks Kendra how she responds, and Tana keeps making snorty noises, like, "I bet you weren't ready for the fist-pumping part, bizznatch! Let's see you eat some of that chili!" Tana even cuts off Kendra from answering, saying she was determined to make sure Trump knew this. About the Pontiac thing being a circle, in case you forgot as soon as she started pumping her fist. Apparently, this was the one good idea she's had? It's so stupid, because what does this have to do with what have been the most persistent criticisms of her? Nobody ever said she didn't have any ideas; they said she was horrible with people…like she's being right now. Nothing proves you're personable quite like fist-pumping, I guess. Anyway, Trump refers to Tana's approach as "very aggressive," which Tana totally thinks is a compliment, and Tana gets all, "I'm a little freaked out," in kind of her "bling-bling," "we be talkin'" voice, and this is like a world gone mad at this point.
Anyway. Kendra could not be less fazed by this display of insanity, saying that the shape was definitely "an important element." "But," she says, "there were photographs, there were colors, there was writing, there was a continuity." And that, right there, is a really good explanation of why the brochure was good -- not so much "there were colors" and stuff, but the "continuity" part. That was it exactly. That thing hung together in a thematic and visual way that went far, far beyond its being a circle. I know, I'm kind of trying to introduce rationality into what is clearly an explosion of something far darker, but stay with me. Because it's almost over. Tana is actually trying to talk again, some more, determined to make the entire fucking show about the Pontiac brochure, which it just isn't, and Trump doesn't care that much, so he tells them that we'll just assume they both did well on that task. Tana's problem here, in part, is that she was on camera saying that she was going to bed because she was exempt. The damage, in that respect, is pretty much done. How are you going to argue you contributed fully when we saw you saying you were going to bed because you couldn't be fired?
I'm sweating, people! Time for a commercial!
When we return, we are nearing the moment of truth at last. Trump tells the two that he's known them "for a long while." He insists that they're both winners, especially the one of them that's going to win, presumably. Trump goes on to explain that in his eyes, Tana was sucky to her team, and that's not good. He thinks Chris was too nice about it, really. However, earlier on, he felt that Tana was "a star." "More so, I think, than Kendra." But Kendra, on the other hand, on the final two tasks, "stepped up to the plate and just knocked it out of the stadium." He turns to Tana. "She was fantastic. Would you admit that?" Rather than say yes, as she should, Tana tries to clarify the question, and Trump just asks her if she's admit that Kendra did great in the last two weeks, which Trump points out is his version of "crunch time," baby! Tana goes along halfheartedly. Trump now turns to Kendra. "I hated the fact that you cried," he says. He does allow, though, that it's kind of awesome to cry over people you used to hate. He says it less well than that, though. "You had a great sort of a team going. It was amazing what you did with that team. Very much the opposite of Tana. And for that reason, I'm saying Kendra, you're hired."
Kendra explodes with the gush and grins her toothy grin. She and Tana hug, and one of them says something about it being an honor, which makes me need a drink, all things considered. Kendra walks over to the bench and shakes hands with Trump, thanking him for picking her over the crazy lady. She then shakes hands with George and Bill, and Carolyn and Kelly. Kendra's party in New York goes wild. She hugs her Magnamian teammates. She hugs a bunch of random Net Worthians and her family and stuff. Trump tells her that her eeny, teeny Pontiac Solstice awaits. He tells her to go and get her car. And don't come back! Just kidding. But he does say he wants to tell us what a great season it was, and Apprentice 4 will be on in the fall, and there will be a Broadway musical (!), and don't forget to watch the Martha version!
Well, that was an unexpected ending. I'm certainly glad it was worth 17 episodes and a clip show. I hardly know what to say.