Seaport. VersaCorp. The guys are hustling the few people who are around, but there aren't that many. David actually runs down the street beside a guy on a bike, waving the sign in his face and eventually cutting him off while he's still riding by jumping in front of him. Dude. That is a terrible idea. I mean, it's a good idea if you want a free appendix removal without having to go to the hospital, but it's a terrible idea if you're trying to get a guy to buy a drink. Bowie watches this, dismayed. Nick interviews that David may be a brilliant guy, but "he needed a little help moving the product," by which Nick means, "he's a fucking idiot when it comes to people skills." The other guys mutter about how they're going to get Dave to stop attacking the customers. Heh.

Overhead, the Trumpicopter is hovering. Wow, awesome. "You're not gonna believe this," Donald is saying to someone on the Trumpicopterphone. "The men are at that smelly Fulton Fish Market trying to sell lemonade." He complains into the phone that it's a terrible -- not to mention largely deserted -- location. On the ground, Bill good-naturedly says that they're "dying a slow death out here." Jason notes that whatever lunch rush was coming has already come, so they need to move somewhere else, because, to quote Swingers, this place is dead. Sam smugly gloaterviews that Kwame was the location guy, and that the seaport was a bad choice. Sam is actually thrilled by this development, despite the fact that it screws him, too. He'd rather see somebody else proved inferior to him, I think, than see the team do well and watch anybody else get credit for it. The guys all get together and decide that they need to go someplace else, so they pack up their gear and scoot.

Protégé, meanwhile, is living it up at 53rd and 9th. A couple of guys remark that the lemonade is kind of warm, but Kristi reassures them that it's just that they've "been working so hard, the ice melted." Wow, coherent! So now it's warm lemonade on the street out of a bucket for five dollars. Sign me up! We briefly see George, who explains that normally, he certainly wouldn't pay five bucks for a lemonade (unless Donald told him to, presumably), but if the lemonade were being sold by a pretty girl, he might. We see Kristi kiss one guy on the cheek and give another one what she claims is her phone number. Ay yi yi. She says in an interview that she was surprised to find herself using sex to sell lemonade. Judging from that Red Shoe Diaries thing, I guess she's used to just using sex to sell...well, sex. Heidi is selling, too, and she's doing it through friendliness to men, yes, but she insists in an interview that it's not sex she's using, it's just her personality. A flock of dogs is walked past the women, and Heidi chooses the pit bull to pet. Nice job, moron. Predictably, it growls at her, and she jumps about fifty feet.