Lee asks the manager if they can clear all the other sandwiches out of the place and squeeze the life out of the demand curve. The manager says yes. That's literally all that happens: Lee asks the guy if they can do it, and the guy says they can. And oh my God the hell that simple transaction unleashes. Because now, suddenly, Lee negotiated and convinced and manipulated the guy, really applied pressure and got into the guy's head and like, the guy didn't even know what he was doing, because he was under this fucking hypnotic wank wank wanker wank. Okay, which is stupid. But get this: "Trump was the same way when he was younger! He would ask for things!" Trump would...ask for things. That's all you got. You and Trump are so very fucking parallel it's scary, because when he was young, he asked for things and you are young, and you ask for things. If I think about it too hard I'll freak out, like ghosts. Fucking eerie. "So maybe I have the same character trait!" The...trait of "asking"? People? For things? His eyes roll back into his head and he wriggles around like a puppy just thinking about how he fucked that dude so bad and the dude didn't even get on how many levels he was getting owned. "Could you move those sandwiches? ...Yes. THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT, BITCH!" Over and over in his head. He sighs and makes a dreamy face and says how "awesome" and "perfect" that moment was. The perfect, awesome moment where he asked the guy to move the sandwiches, and the guy moved the sandwiches. I could fucking slap this kid. And the awful part is, if you were there, you wouldn't want to poke a hole in the balloon, because he'd look at it and go: "Right, that's lame." And there would be a worm in the ice cream of his good day, and I don't hate even Lee that much.
One of the teams goes to meet the sexy tacky baby of Vin Diesel and Thomas Jane, who drives race cars or whatever. Thread count! Moon roof! Vinaigrette! Fiji water! Paul Giamatti or something! This whole race car photo shoot has little-to-nothing to do with the task, and we'll barely see this stuff again. The other team, whichever one is not this one, I'm not even sure they did this part of the task. Sean and his Lady Harem loiter outside the 7-Eleven late into the night, handing out flyers and regrettably not getting even a little shanked. Sean interviews that it is doubtful the people will leap out of bed in the morning craving a disgusting sandwich made of pizza and chemicals, but however you can help the revenues, you do that. They agree on their price tag, which is $4, and Andrea seems to wonder about that, but she pays more for the rarefied air that she breathes, so don't ask her how much you're paying at a 7-Eleven in the middle of New York City for a disgusting readymade sandwich, because that's hitting her with like ten concepts she doesn't understand at all. I keep forgetting how I kind of like Sean now. That's going to be taken care of in a couple of pages, though, so for now I'll say that Sean is funny and cool telling us banal things like how the hats, and not the price, will be their downfall. I just think it's interesting that the Synergy kids are so lame that I'm still thinking of them as the underdogs, even though they're on a four-task winning streak and have only lost twice. Do you get that at all?