Trump's still stuck on the whole "Creative Clay" concept, and asks the somewhat valid but entirely unrelated "Do you think he's more talented than you? Maybe I should just fire you right now." Because they made him the "creative" person...except she didn't, she Alla'd his ass right out of American airspace the second he stopped cooperating, so when did this actually happen, exactly? Given that she's answering a question that has no place in this conversation, Rebecca gives a good, Rebecca-flavored answer: "In this task I thought less of Clay's creativity than previously." Do you think he's more creative than Randal? Ouch. Randal has been shown time and again to be great at everything but that. He's an engineer and five-time doctorate, for Björk's sake. That's not his strength. Rebecca knows better than to equivocate, or just doesn't know how to, so she responds affirmatively, Mr. Trump. Randal's a little surprised, even though I'd guess he'd usually agree.
Trump, having received an answer as useless as his question, continues down a different road. "When Clay was with other teams, he didn't seem to get along with them very well. Do you think Clay brought the team down?" When did he not? Even at Dick's, he had one good, backbone idea (for which he deserves credit), then bitched and moaned the rest of the day. Rebecca outshines even my previous expectations of her doublespeak power: "Working with Clay, we did butt heads -- and I'm not sure if that is what some of the other team leaders have felt was an issue with Clay." God, I love this girl. I wish I could diagram that sentence for you to show how awesome she is. "Yes, there were difficulties, and yes, he did fuck us over, but gosh, Mr. Trump, I wouldn't say it's historical. All I know is that it's me, and Randal, and we both rule, and yet here we are before you. I'd hesitate to draw that line for you." Trump nods, satisfied once again with Rebecca's powers of saying five times as much as she's saying. "One thing about Rebecca, she's honest. If nothing else, she's honest." Clay, to underscore how he's actually understood about five percent of what the adults have been talking about, jumps in there with a "And I hope you've learned that about me as well!" Sigh. Kristi, shut your gorgeous mouth, I say again.
Trump: "Well...I've learned you're difficult." Clay fucking giggles like Trump's Hattie McDaniel chiding him about going after Ashley Wilkes when he should know better. "On so many teams you haven't gotten along, and you've taken these two people who have been stars, and all of a sudden they're, like, reduced to nothing." Clay sad.













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