I suppose this is as good a time as any to address the issue of The Hair. Donald Trump's hair is a lot like Michael Jordan's baseball career -- it serves as a reminder that one of the curses of wealth is that when you have enough money, nobody will do you the favor of telling you when you're making an enormous ass out of yourself. Donald's hair, first of all, has stripes of color. I don't even know how one does that, but he has skunk-like bands of blond in among his generally reddish-brown hair. We're not talking about highlights, either. Bands. Stripes. Like on a flag. An ugly flag, for a country roiled by turmoil and self-hating and civil war. The hair also appears to puff up from the front of his head and sweep backwards to cover what I presume is a very bald top. It's not a traditional comb-over so much as it is a comb-back. (I have also heard the opposite theory, which is that it puffs up from the back and is tucked in somehow at the front. Could be.) And yes, I think it's real hair. I don't think even a guy like Trump would buy a toupee that looked like that. I don't think they would manufacture a toupee that looked like that. His hair is also weirdly straw-like, and looks like each individual strand would snap in half if you bent it around your finger. Which I don't recommend, because he probably wouldn't like it.
Having been introduced to their new boss, the candidates are dismissed. They file out and head for the elevator. Sam voices over that when he saw Donald, "it all came together, right there." Sam says he wants "access to Trump." He wants to get to know him. In a bar! With his girlfriend! In the bathroom! With a high-powered telescope! While hanging outside his bedroom window in an improvised sling! Sam must have access! Anti-stalking statutes? Never heard of them!
Upstairs, the candidates let themselves into Suite 4. It's very nice, in what I think is a kind of boring, obvious way. It looks like it was furnished at a store that was invented when people who worked at IKEA developed a need to get out of fiberboard and work with solid woods. There are giant, scary murals on the walls of the living room that show people reading and talking on the phone and engaging in business hubbub...it looks a little like freeze-frames from corporate anime. Completely bizarre. Inside the suite, the candidates find -- you guessed it -- champagne and caviar. It's all about the symbols of opulence, even though everyone probably would have been happier if the caviar had been replaced with Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Champagne is poured, and someone proposes a toast to "the enemies," which seems to make everyone laugh uncomfortably. Ah, uncomfortable laughter. Tammy complains to Katrina that she doesn't know why they're even talking to the men, who are the enemy. Are they sure Tammy was a stockbroker in her former life? I was thinking maybe something in professional bridge-burning. In an interview, Bowie says that the girls are smarter than some of the guys were expecting, but "if you put one over on me, I'm gonna ten-times ya, I'm gonna do ya by ten times." It's quite remarkable when you realize that a guy would actually make more sense if he were speaking corporate jargon about paradigm shifts and partnering and...God forbid...thinking outside the box. [Shudder.]