In memory of the firee this week, no quizzes. Upstairs in Suite Eight, the Corporate Weasel Death Watch takes part in that well-known tradition of sitting down to a delicious dinner with no thought to the other team. The reasoning for this is that Brent is there, and he cannot shut up, and thus will keep it going forever. Lee, then Tarek and Charmaine, light candles for Brent, hoping he'll stick around until the shuffle and continue to hand Gold Rush wins well into mid-season. They are now my enemies -- don't wish that shit on your humble recapper! Not even in jest. Synergy returns at all once, which confuses those among the Rushees who can actually count, since there doesn't seem to be anybody left for the final Boardroom, but they quickly are made to understand that Brent was cobra'd out of hand. Tarek, Lee, and Bryce all have a big man-cry about Brent's firing. Well, more precisely, Tarek and Bryce have an intimate moment of manly sorrow, while Lee stands on the sidelines, praying for body hair. Lenny and Tammy hug and jump up and down about Brent's firing, how much they hate Brent, and how much they hope Synergy will crush Gold Rush, because nobody hates his team quite the way Lenny does. Tammy interviews -- still as flavorless as meltwater from the Swiss Alps -- that she is looking forward to seeing what actual Synergy will do, as opposed to Synergy plus Brent's ineffectual meandering, and there's a stupid, meaningful cut to a lonely bag of sweaty, sucky bagels he left behind, as she breathes about working without the "added weight on our shoulders." Like any of them would wear bagels on their shoulders. Maybe Carolyn. Ivanka could work that shit.
Andrea bitches out Roxanne about the unfavorable comparisons to Tammy in the Boardroom, and again Roxanne tries to defend it using the, um, truth -- but Andrea's still not having it. Roxanne says she was trying to indicate Tammy's "way of lifting people up," and Andrea passive-aggressives that Roxanne "brought it up unnecessarily, but that's all right," and that's all I needed to hear. Andrea took the long way around to becoming exactly what we thought she was from the very first Downward Dog. Too bad. I stand by the magic of her fakeness, and all that it implies, but I can't support that kind of shitty snippishness. Roxanne's like, "Remember how he totally flat-out asked me to compare the two of you, bitch?" And strangely, Andrea cannot. Roxanne interviews that everybody on the team agrees that Andrea is a cruddy, bossy know-it-all, but congratulates herself on being the only one to step up and say something. Which kind of means that all the mealy-mouthed "Tammy has a sincerity and a way of lifting people up" stuff was exactly as double-thinky and catty as it seemed, which makes Roxanne pretty great. She and Allie could take some bitches on. Just...not in bed, and not with any Brits around, thank you. Andrea snits at Roxanne, and us, that anyone who thinks they're up to this competition, but can't handle "directness" and needs to be "coddled," is fooling him or herself. Andrea interviews that Roxanne is the weaker player, and not a strong leader but a strong follower, and we cut to her again being a total bitch to Roxanne: "That's all right...I'm sure it's not the last time I'll be surprised." What? She couches it in terms I can agree with: Stop whining and get to the point, get the next step down, move from task to task with a minimum of bitching. But that's not an excuse. I think I like her brainworks, but her heartlight is not so turned on. That's like the two things I love most: efficiency and etiquette, and she is missing one of them, which explains my wishy-washiness with her, but I do think after the age of like 25 you should have figured out that you need both.
Very exciting music takes us to the high seas, specifically to the Norwegian Cruise Lines ship the Norwegian Jewel, and Donald Trump is bugging her captain meaninglessly ("How many propellers? Two? They must be big!") and the captain just looks on, hoping Trump won't reach out and push a bunch of buttons like a hyperactive preadolescent in a limo for the first time. Which is what Trump is, and will always be.