Matchstick arrives at the conference room and Martha reminds them they are two-time losers. While Chuck immediately takes responsibility for the team's lack of communication and delegation, Charles's cigar makes a repeat appearance and listens. Martha thinks Matchstick didn't put enough creativity into the project: "Alexis told me the shop looked...cute, but it stopped there. The hiring of the Dutch girls, I thought, was TERRIBLE idea! What the heck are girls walking around in Dutch outfits, selling tulips -- what do they have to do with the brand?" God, Martha's trying so hard to redecorate her damn image, she can't even say hell! HELL! HELL! HELL! HELL! Hell. Bethenny explains that, at one point, they had this idea to have a Dutch theme, "and we had nothing else! That's so sad to admit, but we had nothing else." Martha confirms that all the tulips were grown indeed grown in the Land of Pot and Wooden Shoes. "And that was our plug," Bethenny says, raising her hands and rolling her eyes up to the ceiling in supplication. "And I said 'I don't even know -- what else does Holland even have?' Like, a windmill and a Dutch girl and clogs --" "Please talk about Anne Frank. Please talk about Anne Frank," McCheese mutters, knitting angrily. "Oh, don't say that," Martha pearl-clutches, "or you're going to get an awful lot of letters from Holland." Bethenny immediately slaps her hand over her eyes in shame. Martha goes on, "Holland has a lot of things! I mean, they have, like, Vermeers, by the way. And Van Gogh!" And Rembrandt. And Escher. And de Kooning. And gouda. And Heineken. And Delftware. And canals. And a red light district. And prostitutes on national health. And all of my father's family.
"That's not mainstream," Bethenny says. Um, Van Goghs aren't mainstream? Like, HOW? She's an idiot. Bethenny talks about finding something everyone can relate to. Just...shut up, Bethenny. You're so stupid, I can't even look at your Health Food Face. Alexis brings up the fact that the Dutch girls couldn't even answer any questions once they were on the street. "It was pitiful!" Martha interjects. Alexis adds that no one from Matchstick even went to check to make sure the girls were on the right corner. "No, it was so ridiculous, they were just set loose. Like dogs," Hateful Jim adds, pressing his fingertips together "deeply." Martha tells them it was "real tacky" and then asks Chuck what he did as PM. "I made some timelines and had a nervous breakdown," Chuck admits. Martha pinches her lips together. "No! No!" Hateful Jim interrupts. Chuck keeps talking while Hateful Jim does his best to interrupt him, and when it's clear that no one is listening to Hateful Jim, Hateful Jim stops talking and twitches his head spasmodically. There is something seriously, medically wrong with that guy. Chuck states that he feels the need to take complete responsibility for the failure. "That's unacceptable, that's unacceptable," Hateful Jim mutters, then raises his voice to add, "I take that as a deep, personal, wounding insult that you would say that, Chuck, frankly!" "WHY?!" Chuck demands. "I think that it's a flagrant disregard for a team that rallied around you and did everything they could to make this work for you, man, I mean, how dare you resign -- how dare you!" Hateful Jim blithers. See, Hateful Jim is just exposing Chuck even more here. He's basically pointing out that the team had to rally around and coddle Chuck in order to get the project going. No true leader should require that sort of time-consuming attention, and Martha will see that. "Am I resigning? I'm just telling you that I take full responsibility," Chuck petitions Martha. "I don't know if you're resigning -- are you resigning?" Martha asks. "Did I say I was resigning? No!" Chuck says. "Take full responsibility for what you did: the business model," Hateful Jim natters. "THERE WAS NO BUSINESS MODEL!" Chuck interrupts. Hee! "There was a business model and it was a retail store -- it was a mom and pop shop, I mean, there's nothing wrong with that!" Hateful Jim continues not to SHUT THE HELL UP!