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No one can argue that sex sells. However, we could make the argument that not everyone should try to sell sex. For instance – Donald Trump and his offspring (well…maybe Ivanka). The very idea of Donald Trump having sex is icky, and that’s just imagining what his hair looks like afterward. In fact, just hearing Donald Trump talking about sex makes me throw up a little in my mouth. This week’s episode should have come with a viewer discretion warning…although you could also make the argument that EVERY week should have a viewer discretion warning.
Team Pretty and Team Pretty Crazy
Last week, everyone mourned the loss of Mahsa. And by “mourning”, I mean “celebrated with insults and champagne”. Brandy congratulates herself for getting rid of Mahsa – and by “getting rid of” I mean “throw temper tantrum in the boardroom until Mr. Trump saw things my way”. Meanwhile, Anand and Stephanie engage in an odd and random (and by “odd and random” I mean “manufactured by the producers”) fight over who was really responsible for Fortitude’s loss.
There’s a tiresome but mercifully short segment where Steuart reaps his reward as project manager – a meet with Snapple CEO Larry Young. Stu flashes his pearly white caps while he & the expensive suit exchange inane pleasantries for the camera. Then it’s on to the week’s task, but first, Trump amuses himself by switching up the teams. Team Octane is now comprised of Liza, Stu, Brandy, and Clint, while Stephanie, Anand (Ah, so that’s why they were shown fighting – clever producers!), Poppy, and Crazy Dave. The teams are to produce a 4-page magazine advertorial featuring the Donald J. Trump Signature Collection of men’s dress shirts, ties, and cufflinks. (Cufflinks? The last guy I saw in cufflinks was Don Corleone, circa 1972.) They’ll be judged on creativity, brand integration, and presentation. Trump sons Eric & Don Jr. will be hanging around and contributing very little. Project managers will be Brandy, for Octane, and David, for Fortitude, who’s hoping to cash in on the praise he received from Trump in the previous boardroom.
Fortitude – Bromance blossoms…not that there’s anything wrong with that
For thirty seconds or so, we’re lulled into thinking that perhaps a team led by Crazy “Virus” Dave might not provide any silly over-the-top dramatics. The team brainstorms and comes up with black and white photos of the models, while featuring the Trump line shirts et. al as being the only articles in color. Kind of a nifty idea. Then…the models arrived. David, father of 5, falls all over the tallest, darkest, and handsomest male model, whom he immediately christens his cover boy. Anand is taken aback by Dave’s “man crush”, and maybe a little jealous. (And I would just like to point out that Anand was the one who was channeling his inner Carson Kressley, arranging the shirts and ties to match.) He & Poppy complain that the shirts are too big for the model’s apparent pencil-neck. Dave is no less enamoured, insisting that his guy will be the featured model in the ad, and goes so far as to admit that if he didn’t have so many kids, he would “go gay” for this guy. Thereby ensuring that said kids will have to wear paper bags over their heads to school for the next 6 months or so.
Anand and Poppy are no match for Crazy Dave and Loud Angry Stephanie, but bravely attempt to contribute something to the task by offering opinions on photo choice and the layout for the back page of the ad. Don Jr. arrives and is disappointed that Anand and Poppy have failed to order lunch for the models, as it’s already 5 pm. Anand is defensive and huffy after Dave tells him to go sit in the corner, but the team pulls it together for the presentation. David puts his mask of sanity on and delivers a nice speech to go with the advertorial, duly impressing the Macy’s folks, though they’re displeased with the ill-fitting shirt on Dave’s model and the photos in the shape of a “T” on the ad’s back page.
Octane – Barbie and Ken go Maxim
Trump, according to Clint, is all about money, power, and sex. But what does a guy the approximate shape and color of Spongebob Squarepants know about sex? Brandy, one of the season’s interchangeable blondes, decides on an ad featuring a day-in-the-life of a Trump-type guy (except the Trump-type model will be a guy good-looking enough to get sex even without money and power). Clint and Liza are conveniently dispatched to “run errands”, while Stu & Brandy go to the photo shoot – but wait! Even more conveniently – no models have shown up! Gosh, I guess that means that they’ll have to step in and model for the bedroom scene portion of the ad! Stu thinks he’s a pretty good-looking guy, and is unconcerned about his ability to mug for the camera. Via cellphone, Clint voices concern about Brandy’s legs. Are they long and luscious enough? Liza assures him that she’s seen them – you know, when the girls have their nightly pillow-fight and group shower afterwards – and they are up to the task.
Eric – or as I like to think of him, Junior Jr. – arrives as Brandy is being primped for the shoot, and worries that she’s spending too much time on her hair and makeup. Junior Jr. also thinks the whole bedroom scene might be too racy. Oh, Junior Jr., how little you know your daddy. Brandy pretends to be unhappy about being “forced” into modeling, like she probably doesn’t have a portfolio full of head shots already. As Trump lauded Brandy’s public speaking ability in a previous task, she takes on the presentation, but stumbles over her prepared speech. Looking pretty is much easier than talking. The judges are slightly disapproving of the racier pics in the ad, and annoyed that Brandy left out the “Donald J” part of the brand name.
Don’t ask, don’t tell
Trump must have got all his anger out of his system last week, as he’s positively genial at the start of the week’s boardroom session. He chuffs Clint a bit over whether or not he’s missing David, and gets a subdued Dave to politely admit that Poppy was his weakest link. All to soften us up for the politically incorrect portion of this broadcast. Anand opens the door with some commentary about David’s “homoerotic” fixation on the scrawny-necked male model. Trump’s eyes light up, and he asks David if he’s gay. Dave squirms awkwardly and denies it. Trump offers the boardroom as an opportunity for Dave to come out of the closet, and everyone chuckles uncomfortably. The Trump sons, not quite impervious to being embarrassed by their father, pull out the team’s respective advertorials and shove them across the table for perusal.
The teams mutter over each other’s work, and Donald complains about the ill-fitting shirt on Dave’s model. Did they not have a size to fit him, he wonders? I wondered that too, but apparently you must have a manly-sized neck to fit the Trump brand. Donald also wants to know if Brandy and Stu are having an affair. Brandy replies that she prefers older men, while Stu is already in a relationship with his mirror. Brandy, having given the correct response to Trump’s inappropriate and invasive questions, is rewarded with Donald naming Octane the week’s winners. The Macy’s execs liked their ad enough to use it in a national campaign, and Brandy will be treated to a meet ‘n’ greet with the store’s CEO.
After Octane shuffles off to the viewing room, Trump revisits Shirtgate with Dave. The fight’s gone out of David, though, and he dully admits that 90% of the task was his responsibility. He does, however, blame the tiny pics on the back page of the ad on Poppy. Stephanie, Grace to Dave’s Will, taps another nail in his coffin by praising his “vision” but backing Poppy with a recommendation that David should be fired. Anand agrees as well, but Dave opts to keep Poppy and Steph (his “wingman”) with him for final boardroom. Trump sends Anand away but as the saying goes, it was over before it was over. David is fired, and calmly thanks Trump for the opportunity, etc., etc. He hugs the girls goodbye and in the taxi ride, admits that firing him was the only option. Nowadays, he’s heading up his own company and he and his model are living happily ever after. But they stick to V-neck shirts. And no cufflinks.
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