Sean smarms it up and makes them all put their hands in and do cult-like things because that's all he's fucking good for, and he yells at us with strange emphasis on certain syllables about how they are "being judged solely on the quality of this 30-second jingle!" Onstage in some stupid ugly jeans, he smarms into the mic and promises the crowd that the "most important thing" is for the crowd to "have fun." Because what is more fun than watching a band setting up for twenty minutes so you can hear two 30-second jingles about chicken sandwiches, followed by six hours of slam poetry? They play the song, which is catchy and sounds like "Wild Night" with the Cougar and the n'DroganelshecisritualofCHUDOcello woman, only on a five-bar loop and about all-natural chicken, but live music is always super-fun, so Tammy raises the roof and the all-natural crowd rocks out to the chicken song and Doug and Debbie smile and Trump does a thing. It's a dancing kind of thing? But like, if I asked you to draw a cow and you'd never seen a cow before and had to rely on verbal narratives about cowness, you'd end up with something like the Stay-Puft guy crossed with Billy Zane crossed with a Buick LeSabre and a lamppost, and Trump is doing basically the locomotive equivalent of that, with a stupid fucking idiotic smile on his smug little face. ["Actually, I think if you asked him, 'Were you totally copying the Uncle-Junior-looking dude from the Six Flags ads?' he would have to say yes." -- Sars]
Bryce interviews that "their sound was great," and he's "nervous as all get-out" because theirs was more like a song, and his is more like -- he "went" more "radio jingle." He goes to the mic and Doug and Debbie immediately lose interest, hilariously, and start checking out the Knitting Factory like they're trying to make a connection, and then the song starts, which is a very Andrews Sisters, boring kind of jug-band sound, just eye-poppingly repetitive and silly, but the very proud Charmaine and Leslie dance about excitedly, singing in the audience, and at the end there's a Jimi Hendrix moment on the guitar as they bring it home: "I'm thinking Arby's!" Yeah!
Doug and Debbie take the stage and corp-speak about how they need to bring onstage "the biggest Arby's fan in the entire world," Trump, and again, I will never understand Sales because I don't know how a whole room of people can repeat a silly lie and get excited about the silly lie even though they all know it is a) a lie and b) silly, and say the silly lie to each other over and over, and make silly improvements to the silly lie, and congratulate each other on making the silly lie both sillier and more of a lie, without anybody needing to lie down for a sec. So whatever, Trump's the biggest Arby's fan, and everyone in the Knitting Factory cheers for him as he gets onstage. Why? Why would you clap for Donald Trump anywhere, at any time? Especially if Arby's is involved? Are they stoned? I bet they're stoned. Trump asks for a vote by cheering, and the Synergy cheer is very loud, which makes Tarek sad, and the Gold Rush cheer is lukewarm at best, and then Trump asks the PMs how they did, according to themselves. Seanthusiasm amounts to: the song was "unique!" and "raised the bar!" and "took a risk!" but ultimately prevailed; Bryce thinks that his team "worked together so well" that it is literally "unbelievable." If I were Trump, I would have repeated the question: "Son, I asked how you did on the task." The execs weigh in. Debbie says that the Rushees did a good job talking about the menu, but didn't hit the main point, which is that you can only get the all-natural Arby's chicken sandwich at Arby's. "You said it was better," she explains, but not that you have to go to Arby's. "Very important," she says. Doug says that Synergy, by contrast, was great. "Loved it!" He says. They "hit every element," and their jingle "did a great job." They win.