Season Finale

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Lesson Thirteen: People Aren't Metaphors

Carolyn and Trump, who don't realize they have about three quarters of the whole scenario here, hushedly pronounce that the whole thing seems kind of disorganized. Donald, I'm speaking to you now: YOU DID THAT. YOU. BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T KNOW THE PLAN. YOU ARE NOT QUALIFID TO MAKE THIS CALL. YOU ARE THE OUTBACK GUY OF THIS. And I can guarantee you that the VIPs and guests don't know the diff, and if they did notice, they'd know it was you that did that. Hazy Shade introduces Jake, who talks about his mom and how she's smiling down right now, and he's a good speaker: loose, friendly, good-looking, not crazy. Hazy Shade introduces Pete, who looks totally obnoxious, then launches into George, calling him a lady, and very old, and totally rides George into the wall, and George loves it. Chris? Does not. He's utterly stressed by the effect this will have on Rebecca. I love Chris. Onstage, Pete's like, "He's laughing! It's okay. He might kill me but…"

Rebecca walkies to Chris about the goodie bags and Chris says, "Put a smile on your face, because George is doubled over laughing." Like she knows the difference between a smile and the grimace of intense will. The next comic ascertains that George and his totally adorable wife have been married for 53 years -- everybody claps, of course -- and he jokes around with them for a while, all, "Where did you go for your anniversary? Applebee's?" And the kick-ass reply is, "No, Africa." I would like to have dinner or Thanksgiving with George. He exudes this gravitas that I feel like if I saw him across a restaurant I'd think, "I like and respect that very old man." Comic guy is like, " do you top that?" Then he asks if George and his wife ever try role-playing, like maybe George could dress up like a maid for his wife, and Jake Glaser laughs the laugh of a trust-fund kid who's seen worse things than even that.

Excel looks gorgeous one and all, and they're admiring all the balloons and stuff, and Randal interviews his total thankfulness about his wonderful team. He hugs Marshawn and calls her I think "little sister" and she laughs and says no, he's the little brother. Then Randal and Josh hug as wonderfully as they have all season and won't let go of each other, and it's very moving. He says goodbye to them and is sad to see them leaving like it's the last day of summer camp. It's...the thing is that he's exhausted every possible resource he has, and it shows, and all his stuff is used up, just gone, every inch of him is wasted, and that makes your emotions crazy, so it's rough but sweet to watch. "Words cannot capture the gratitude I feel -- they worked so hard for me, and that's all they had going, just to see me succeed." Can you imagine knowing that? Feeling that? No reason to be here, except to carry you higher. That's wondrous. This show rocks. Driving back to the suite, he looks broken and close to tears and relieved, and mister, I feel you so hardcore right now. Not since ancient Rome has their been an orgy of self-indulgence like the one I would put on at this point in the day, if I were on the achy adrenaline high he's on right now. I'm talking wine like you can't get at the grocery store, imbibed to wretched excess, I'm talking candles everywhere, Frou Frou blaring so loud that red light comes on on the speakers, some Cruel Intentions, everything that ever contained chocolate chips going directly into my mouth, sloshy hot bath, making the Gilmore Girls look like amateurs of self-indulgence, a backrub from all comers including that weird stranger guy at the coffee shop, I'm talking indie rockers of my acquaintance summoned to play at my feet. I'm talking Laguna Beach marathon. In short: what happens right after I send Sars this damned recap.

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