It's raining as Lee gets dressed and heads to Temple for Yom Kippur, the "most holiest day of the entire Jewish calendar," he [sic]s. Lenny laughs but not meanly, and hangs out with Leslie and Bryce in the kitchen -- for a second I get scared we're going to play another round of the Lazy Jew game, but we don't (yet) -- and at least there's no fucking klezmer this time around. Which, I would be interested in thanking the show for that, but like -- this is still so stupid and on purpose and creepy. It's not like Judaism fucking sprung this on you. You've had almost six thousand years to get your daybook in order, motherfuckers.
Downstairs, Trump Tower -- everybody but Lee shows up for Trump's more-embarrassing-than-usual screaming fit. Andrea, and I guess other people but Andrea most dramatically, is wearing her gigantic baby-blue scarf from last week. What's with the giant scarves? Did I miss that trend last fall? Trump tells them that "building a brand" is a "very, very wonderful thing," and we pan across a sad, shitty cabinet full of ugly Trump and Apprentice merchandise. It's so ghetto. It looks like a Showcase Showdown. Like if there was a Milton-Bradley counter at Tiffany. There are light-up signs that say "You're Fired!" It's...it's just sad, man. "Behind me I have my entire Signature Collection [his caps, not mine] on display -- the fragrance�" Okay the list continues (the ties, the shirts, the watches, whatever) but: the fragrance? I imagine it's woodsy, with some saddle leather accents. Like what he thinks men smell like, that's what Trump Fragrance is going to be like. Today, though, we're talking about "another" great brand: Arby's. Trump: "I happen to love their roast beef sandwiches!" I've never wanted to be Trump's personal assistant, but just now? "Yes, Mr. Trump. Five sandwiches at fifty dollars each comes to...$250. I'll just grab that out of petty cash, shall I?" In the interests of full disclosure, I need to tell you a little bit about me and Arby's. The place smells like an armpit, due to the food they serve. A literal armpit. The food tastes like dead armpit, and makes me feel sick inside just thinking about it. Roast beef is not supposed to be chewy. Bread is not supposed to drip. And the fact that they incorporate not only au jus, which is like eating in the bathroom to me anyway, but something called "Horsey Sauce" is not helping. God, I'm getting sick just thinking about it. It's cheap food, served cheaply, which means that the overhead is lower, which means that the stores are not typically staffed by the most heartening persons one might find in customer service. There is no fast food I hate more than Arby's, and I'm being completely serious. I'll go hungry instead, even if I were driving across the country without stopping I would rather starve than eat fucking disgusting Arby's. Jack In The Box fancies itself organic and healthful compared to that shit. So of course, Trump loves it the best.