"Do you think we should not go with a theme? Is that what you're saying?" asks Tarek, like the invisible Trump Inquisitor hovering somewhere in the room is going to clap his hands like thunder and be all, "By her own admission, she has no theme!" Even though she has a theme, and this isn't that kind of task. "Come get a haircut." That's the fucking theme. Charmaine's like, "Again, no theme is my vote, because that's lame, but I swear if you come up with one, we'll have a big theme party." Tarek again tries to argue her into a corner for the benefit of nobody but Lee and Michael: "Do you feel at all uncomfortable that you're the PM, and you're going to do a theme even though you don't wanna do a theme?" Um, no, she feels "uncomfortable" that you're fucking around and wasting time trying to make her look stupid about a non-issue. She underscores -- again, for the benefit of the others -- that she's not "leading by consensus," but that if they (the three guys, collectively, which is where she fucked up and will continue to fuck up) feel that strongly about this nebulous "theme" they still haven't come up with, fuck it. Three against one. He interviews in a disgusting hick accent about how Charmaine "struggles with anything [they] come up with," even though -- again -- they've come up with nothing but the absence of an idea. "Ah luuuuv the ahhh-deah, but Ah just don't lahk eeee-it," he smarms. This is like when nobody in the car will name a restaurant, and all the hungry people get really stressed out even though they are also not naming a restaurant. Except that in this case, nobody is hungry, and there is no such thing as a restaurant. Michael says his theme would be "Making You Happy" (of course he does), and Charmaine is just like, "Whatever, fine," but the glory of being Tarek is that he somehow sees this as a minor victory. It's such bullshit, because: what have you proven? Still?