You should know that I have a bunch of seldom-seen friends from out of town here for a one-night-only visit, M. Small is with the grandparents for the night, and all the circumstances are in place for a rare evening of partying and debauchery. And yet instead I am doing the responsible and grown-up thing, namely, sitting in my basement and making fun of Donald Trump on the internet. It sucks being an adult sometimes.
So Trump has just informed the final four -- Carol Alt, Trace Adkins, Lennox Lewis, and Piers Morgan -- that two of them are going t be fired tonight. The deal is that they're all going to be interviewed by two business reporters: Erin Burnett from CNBC, and Jim Cramer from Mad Money (and earlier this season), who will then tell Trump who their favorites were and weren't.
Out in the lobby, Piers has already commenced trying to psych out his fellow competitors. He's confident in what this means for his chances, since the one thing he's good at is talking. That he is. There's a montage of each of the four competitors talking to each of the two reporters, who start with softball questions about their respective charities. Carol, Piers, and Trace do well, but Lennox flounders and stumbles over his words. The questions move on to how each of them thinks they have been doing in the competition, and who each of them thinks should be fired. The editing speeds up to simulate rapid-fire questions, which doesn't really earn me any sympathy for the contestants until I remember that they've been going full throttle since that morning, and already completed a task and survived a board room earlier in the day. I probably wouldn't want to face Jim Cramer under those circumstances. Not that there are many circumstances under which I would want to face Jim Cramer, but you get my point.
When the interviews are over, they're back waiting in the lobby. Trump breezes past them into he interview room to get Erin's and Cramer's opinions. Erin's least favorite was Piers, due to his "edge." But Cramer points out that Piers raises plenty of money. However, he warns, if Trump is looking for teamwork and leadership instead of just huge amounts of cash, then "Piers must be stopped." Lucky for Piers, Trump has never been more interested in anything than huge amounts of cash. Cramer's favorite was Carol, but Erin liked Trace the most. Cramer's picks for the final two are Trace and Carol. We don't hear who Erin's two favorites are, either to create suspense or because Erin is a girl and thus Trump will ignore her anyway.
Back in the boardroom, Trump (flanked by the Trumplets) again congratulates the final four and asks them how they thought they did. Lennox thinks he did well. Trace enjoyed talking with Erin, but not so much the mad ferret Jim Cramer. Piers thought he did well, and is surprised to hear that he came off as harsh or ruthless. He says he's just been playing hard, in Trump's honor. Trump nods thoughtfully, scowling and trying to figure out if he's just been insulted.
Trump asks Carol who she would fire. She says she would keep herself and Piers, since Piers thinks ahead. Piers adds that Lennox couldn't win as much as he has without Piers. Lennox readily admits as much, but also says that Piers couldn't have won as much without Lennox to use as an asset. That's a fair point; Lennox has been the keystone in any number of Piers's victories, but it's not like a big hunk of masonry can do a whole lot on its own, either. Trump appreciates Lennox's honesty, but in light of his admission and the input from the two reporters, he's firing Lennox. Which surprises me, since I expected Trump to keep his hero around until the bitter end. In a non-limo interview, Lennox says he's happy to have earned $40,000 for his charity. Wow, that was a nice, short episode! Bravo, NBC! Oh, wait, we're not done. Trump has Trace move over to sit to Piers and take Lennox's vacated seat. Trump says he doesn't want to fire Piers, even though he's not the nicest guy. Piers starts to object, but Trump shuts that down and asks Piers who he would fire. Piers says he could more easily beat Trace than Carol. For Trace's part, he says he's tried to play the game with integrity, but probably wouldn't be friends with Piers after the way Piers has played the game. He wouldn't accuse Piers of stabbing anyone in the back, though. "He'd stab you in the forehead," Trace says. "You'd see him coming." True enough. Piers cops to it, and maintains that he's never claimed otherwise. You can accuse Piers of lots of things on this show, but hypocrisy is not one of them. Or at least it isn't at the top of the list. Trump asks Carol what he should do, since he wants to see the two guys fight. Literally, that's how he says it: "I want to see these two guys fight." Which was in last week's promo, causing me to be sure that Lennox was going to be in the final two. Ah, well, it's not like I had any money on it. As Trump goes on, Carol doesn't say anything. And Trump fires her. In Carol's non-limo interview, she says she did everything she set out to do. Okay, goodnight, everyone!
Fine, we're still here. I'm just used to the firings coming at the end of the episode, you know. Back in the board room, Trump faces the final two and frames the upcoming battle as "good vs. evil" and "U.K. against the United States." They'll get their last task tomorrow, and they're dismissed for the night. "You're going down, cowboy," Piers says. "Take your best shot," Trace responds, and they trash-talk each other all the way back to the suite.
morning, Trace and Piers meet with Trump and the Trumplets at the Trump Building at 40 Wall Street (they show the address on screen, so I didn't have to look it up or anything, not that I would have). Trump hasn't come up with a better hook for the final showdown overnight, and although Piers says to Trump that he isn't as evil (and Trace isn't as good) as Trump thinks, he privately interviews that this was just what he wanted to hear. Before getting into the explanation of the task, Trump brings back four of the previously fired celebrities: Carol, Lennox (so Trump didn't really get rid of him after all), Stephen Baldwin (because just like on Celebrity Mole, you just can't eliminate that guy for good), and Marilu Henner. Trace wins the coin toss, and picks Lennox, mainly to keep Piers from picking him. Piers chooses Stephen, to Trump's surprise and Stephen's disappointment. Trace picks Marilu. So Carol, the last one fired, is the last one picked. She takes it pretty well, though.
Trump then explains the task, which is to throw a charity event right here in the building. Yes, that's only one event to share between the two of them, but they'll have to do different things. One team will handle catering and a live auction, while the other will handle décor and dealing with the "entertainment," the Backstreet Boys. The finalists will be judged on tickets sold, how well they handle their part of the event, and money made on the stuff each finalist sells at the auction. Which is stuff that Trump will be giving them to fight over.
So let's get that fight started. Except that Piers and Trace both agree to play to their respective strengths, with Trace taking on the show and Piers handling the catering and auction. The selection of the charity items goes similarly smoothly, as Piers and Trace simply take turns picking. We don't get much of a look at the stuff, but I see at least one Gene Simmons bass in there and something to do with Taxi, so obviously the items have connections to the celebrities from the show. Piers is particularly excited about getting to auction off a shopping trip with Ivanka. What, no visit to SuperCuts with Don, Jr.? After the meeting breaks up, Trace compares Piers to a Chihuahua: a tiny dog who makes a lot of noise but isn't really much of a threat. Easy for him to say. I was terrified of a Chihuahua named Tater when I was five. Hated that little fucker.
In Piers's war room, he lays out his strategy: sell stuff to the highest bidder at the auction, and sell the ticket prices for more than face value. Stephen warns Piers that he thinks Trump cares about more than money in this competition. Which is an odd thing for Stephen to say, considering he's been inside Trump's apartment.
Trace tells his team that Piers is going to beat them on money, so he's going to beat Piers on the celebrity front: specifically, he plans to charter two jets to fly a bunch of country stars up to New York. All three of them get right on the phone to gather up celebrities, and Trace is also having his people try to sweeten the pool of auction items by signing guitars and shit.
Marilu and Lennox are dispatched to a prop house, where Lennox kind of has to rush her along to pick out tables and linens for the party. "Done!" he keeps barking at her.
Carol and Stephen head over to the caterers for a little horvy-dorvy tasting. Stephen crunches them loud enough for the microphones to pick up, which Carol claims to find charming.
So what's Piers doing? Hitting up Fergie. Not the incontinent meth-head, but the actual Duchess of York. He goes to her office in New York and gets her to offer a tea with her as an auction item. Piers thinks that might be enough to win the auction all by itself. Which might be a little optimistic. But throw in the incontinent meth-head and an octagonal boxing ring and he'll be unbeatable.
Trace's team goes through the Backstreet Boys' contract rider, which is the list of the stuff acts request in their dressing rooms so they can showoff how high-maintenance they are. Trace isn't too worried about keeping them happy; he makes a comment about them being the "Backstreet Old Guys" now, not being boys any more. Well, they were never particularly backstreet, either, so at least now they're consistent. Trace doesn't think they'll actually need to provide everything on the list, thinking that he can get out of most of it just by talking to their tour manager. Trace has experience of his own with this, you know. And of course all musical acts are as laid-back as Trace. Still, it's a good idea, but once he gets on the phone with the tour manager, Fitzjoy, the conversation doesn't go too smoothly. For one thing, they have a shitty connection, and for another, Fitzjoy has no idea who Trace is or why he's calling. "What's your function?" Fitzjoy asks the multiplatinum recording star. Trace defers the actual negotiation until the following morning -- that's the day of the event -- but he's not filled with confidence any more.
Piers meets with a rep from his charity, Intrepid Fallen Heroes, and suggests giving twenty free tickets to wounded veterans. Piers is aware of the cost to his team, but thinks Trump will be impressed by his embracing of the spirit of the thing. Plus having a bunch of uniforms with pinned sleeves and pantlegs in the room will encourage people to bid higher, what what (my words, not his)? He asks his rep, "Just for the record, you don't care how mean I am, do you?" He laughs it off, just so we all know this isn't actually bothering him that much. "The meaner the better," she laughs back. Trace goes to the Trump Hotel and meets in an otherwise empty dining room with the four Backstreet Boys and who I assume is Fitzjoy. He starts by pointing out that they're only going to have one dressing room instead of two, so can they cut the shopping list in half? Nope; the Backstreet Boys still want two of everything. So Trace realizes that they're "a group of kids that were going to just bust my balls all day." Nick asks about the possibility of getting wheatgrass, which Trace has never heard of. "Are you punkin' me?" he interviews. He's disgusted by them on every level. Once again, Trace and I are on the same page.
Piers, meanwhile, has assigned Stephen to rustle up celebrities. "You tell Gandolfini that it's me," we hear Stephen blustering into a phone. Alas, we do not hear the raucous laughter that would be the only possible response. He also strikes out with Lindsay someone (Lohan or Buckingham, we don't know which), and Ben Stiller, and God knows whom else. In fact, he comes up entirely empty, which has Piers pretty worried. Stephen interviews that there wasn't much he could do on such short notice. He gives an epic not my problem shrug.
And on that note, we're done until week's finale. As long as it's not one of the live two-hour extravaganzas of old, I can't wait. But I suppose I will.