And now, Mr. Apprentice, tear down this wall! Raj throws his shoulder into the wall he wants to remove and puts a big dent into it. You know, when you see a dent like that at a frat house, it always seems so unlikely, but it's really so easy to do. You don't even need the keg, although it helps. I actually know a guy who broke his hand punching a bathroom wall at the prom due to hurt feelings of some kind. Hee. But...come to think of it, I can't remember which of my friends it is. It's probably telling that I know more than one guy I can picture doing that. Ivana looks on, shocked, as Raj begins to tear at the drywall. He knocks into it a couple more times, but when Ivana takes a shot, she doesn't even leave a mark and also? You guessed it. She hurts her shoulder. Because she's a girl, get it? We're made of feathers and confetti. As the team tears out the wall, Raj interviews that human nature contains the natural desire "both to destroy and to create." But mostly destroy. He claims that they're doing both, and then says, "This makes Raj happy." Oh, ew. Talking about yourself in the third person is such a bad idea.
That night, a crescent moon hangs over the chaos and demolition. The next day, at Mosaichaus, the team arrives, and Rob tells us that he's slept two hours out of the last 36, and he's done it in the front seat of the van, so you know he's feeling refreshed in that "fur on your teeth" kind of way. He adds that they have a lot to do. Interestingly, although he has no official stake, Rob says he "need[s] a win," probably because being first out is really a pretty ignominious distinction, and anybody to whom that happens would probably like a chance to put something better on his record before he leaves the public consciousness. You know, forever. Considering that he went out as not contributing anything, he also wants to show "what kind of a worker [he is]." He certainly appears to be working hard, although I hate the idea of his trying to prove anything to people like...Maria. Yuck.
As it rains good and hard on the work going on, Sandy is inside Mosaichaus, fretting over a weird-looking wall that Kelly assures her is fine, even though it has an ugly border marching right across it for no particular reason. Kelly is the arbiter of fine taste, after all, when it comes to both women's clothing and décor. Kelly, in keeping with Mosaic's "I Don't Know Whose Fault It Is, But It Certainly Isn't Mine" theory of manager sabotage, explains to us that if for any reason they don't win the task, it will be Sandy's fault alone. Why does he say stupid things like that? Trump doesn't take that attitude toward PMs, and it's just a dumb attitude. Supervisors can supervise, but the people working have to be competent too, and everyone has to be willing to be responsible for something, you know? He's just much too self-righteous for me, and much too convinced that he's going to avoid all responsibility for everything, permanently. Sandy fusses with a contractor upstairs in the bathroom, and then, as she explains in an interview, she reaches a low moment and cries a little about the rain, the delays, and everything else that's going wrong. She feels like the team is "losing track" and may be about to give up on the task.