Kinetic discusses how the new sedan they're marketing -- which is kind of magical, in that it can parallel park by itself and uses infrared to figure out how hot the people in the car are, rather than how hot it is inside the car, which is a very different or at least slightly different thing -- has a sort of "sixth sense," so what if The Sixth Sense Of Luxury were their theme. And just like that, they've lost. The Sixth Sense Of Luxury? WTF does that even mean? I've only got the five and they're all saying that this is a bad, bad idea. Of course, there's an immediate "roadblock," per the stumbling and stuttering Angela, since they can't think of anything cool that ties into their idiotic theme. Jenn says she wants it to be different and interesting, and they all stare at each other for three hours, literal. Derek and Kristine start yelling out bullshitty ideas that would never fly: stage magicians, go-karts. Or I guess should say "would never fly except how everybody's stupid this week," because fly they do, like monkeys into the night. Kristine mentions that it's not really luxurious to ride around in go-karts, and Jenn says something weird about how it's remiss not to have go-karts because she strongly likes go-karts. And I don't know how Frankendoodled this part is, because the editing's actually trying to tell a story this week, about riff-raff and such. There is discussion about how since they sat around forever not doing anything, now they have no options, and at least go-karts are kind of like cars, just like Lexi, in that they go from here to there on wheels and sometimes even have motors.
Heidi and Muna go to the dealership and go all 2001 on every detail of the car, because they're in charge of product knowledge: they sniff it, and they scratch, and pat it all over, and ask about the paneling inside (Guy: "They're wood?"), and drive around in it, and learn about the mirrors and the steering wheel and the rims and the tires and the trunk and the hood and the door locks and the shocks and the sparkplugs and the way it feels on a slow Sunday morning and what kind of tea it likes to drink and does it take cream or sugar in its tea like a British person, and the guy almost dies with all the product knowledge they are demanding, and it goes on forever, forever. Which is, of course, exactly how it should go, because I've seen enough of this stupid show to know that product knowledge is the name of the game, because old people ask so many motherfucking questions all the time. I never thought this show would teach me anything, but there you go: when you're selling something, you should know a lot about it, because people have no shame about asking the dumbest-ass questions you can imagine. This is when I started loving Andrea again, when she did the whole dazzling car information bullshit spectacle and convinced everybody that she knew things. I think that was how it went down; that's how I remember it, and anyway, that was when this was an actual TV show, and that seems terribly, terribly long ago. Mostly due to Frankie Suits.