The dreaded clip show
The next task focused on Trump's strongly held belief that "charity is important." It's almost as important as raking in enormous amounts of money for your own personal gain, and you know how important he thinks that is. He sent the candidates, therefore, to work on a charity auction that involved convincing celebrities to donate some kind of an "experience" with them that could be auctioned off. Oh, and no one knows how to pronounce "Elizabeth Glaser," which I suppose isn't that big a deal, since it's only the name of the charity. Jerks. Jessie struggled with her negotiation with Isaac Mizrahi. Not the "I can't pronounce your name" kind of trouble, like Assorama had, but trouble nevertheless. The auction was "a yooge success" for VersaCorp, and a defeat for Protégé. In the Boardroom, Assorama bitched at Heidi and Jessie like the snippy brat she is, and because Jessie sat there and took it, Trump lost all respect for her and dumped her, even though she introduced a new approach, which was that of begging not to be fired right before being fired. Who would have thought it would take several weeks for someone to hit upon groveling as a tactic? I mean...it's Trump! That should have been the first thing they thought of! In other news, somewhere around the part where her behavior was described as "rude" and "repulsive," Assorama should have caught the snap that she wasn't exactly impressing the big boss, but that didn't happen. In her bonus interview, Jessie of course has to tell us that she was "true to [her] morals," because that's the goal, after all. She doesn't feel that she "compromised." Well...yes, but did you win? No. Learn anything about that? Sigh...I guess not. You can't expect too much.
In the next task, the shrinking Protégé was given the opportunity to poach somebody from VersaCorp to even the teams. Amy was taken. Trump handed out a task to the teams that involved renovating and selling apartments. As the teams prepared to take off, a little piece of drywall plunked Assorama on the head. She became convinced that she was wounded for life. She went home to the suite, put a cooling eye pillow on her face (I have one of those, but I don't use it to treat concussions, interestingly enough), and called for a doctor. In new footage, we see the doctor come for a visit. The doctor looks at Assorama's head and says, "You've got a little bump there. I don't think you did any damage." The doctor asks her if she has anything strenuous on the agenda, and Assorama says she does -- apartment renovations. The doctor says that in that case, she might want to take an Advil. Oh, Doctor Whoever-You-Are, how I do love you. Seriously, that's all she recommends. "Just take some Advil." And Assorama laughs, because she's fine. She really is. She's fine. Of course, as Trump voices over, Assorama was not satisfied by the doctor's opinion that nothing was wrong, because how is she going to make any money from that? So she took herself to the emergency room, where Trump confirms that "the doctors didn't find anything terribly wrong." But the cameras were not allowed inside. Oh, Assorama. You great big goldbricker, you. That's two doctors who found nothing of any significance wrong. Where's the part about how you almost died? Where's the part where it was so serious that a week later, you couldn't walk around all day without a sit-down lunch?