Trump's bored: "You all three made mistakes." He goes down the line: "Clay, you're very, very hard to work with, and I wonder if you affected these two negatively." "Rebecca, you've been outstanding but this time, you sucked. Your presentation wasn't good, and your performance and leadership were sucky this time." It's the leadership part that's scary. "Randal," he says, "I'm probably most disappointed with you." Trump cites Randal's Rhodes Scholar status and brilliance, and asks for his agreement that this performance was not worthy of him. "I don't think any of you should be proud this week, but in life you have to look at past events, and that's called history."
Yeah, he actually says that. He defines the word "history" for you. As "past events."
Then Trump adds a history -- and by that I mean, "past events" -- lesson for you as well: "Too many countries, too many businesses, have been destroyed by not studying history." Put that in your ignorant pipe, and smoke it 'til you feel the dead weight of a thousand irrelevancies weighing you down. And then succeed anyway. "Clay, Rebecca told me she couldn't work with you again. Other teammates have told me they couldn't work with you again: Alla said it, Adam said it. They were so happy when you left that team." Ouch. That's some ugly shit he just said right there.
"You're supposed to be creative," and again I have no idea where this sudden, weird emphasis is coming from, "but no matter which team you're on, all you do is create problems." Nice wordplay, Trump. Tell me again how you had the biggest building on the East Side until you bested even that building? "Clay?" BANG with the fist on the desk. It's like the Drunken Monkey Fist Cobra. "You're fired."
Clay sad. Randal pensive. Rebecca coming down from a wittle adrenaline from being so scary-wary all the time. Trump self-satisfied. Carolyn crush. George old. Boardroom over.
Randal helps Rebecca with her crutches, obviously, and Carolyn bites her lip, but I think she's down for this one, if reluctantly. Outside, Rebecca attempts to apologize, and Clay hisses through his fake smile, "No, you changed. I mean, that's okay." Because he had her identified as "nice," and then she -- gasp -- turned on him once he fucked with her beyond her ability to take it in stride. He hugs Randal, who tells him he "did a good job, man," but he ignores this, concentrating on how Rebecca "said some things [she] didn't have to say," and it's all very No, really, I don't mind, no problem, you just wounded me more than I can properly explain and I really hope you can live with yourself after what you've done tonight, with your speaking of the truth and being on-task and speaking honestly about what went on. I JUST HOPE YOU CAN LIVE WITH YOURSELF while Randal, who's the one of the three of them that honestly cares whether Clay is ever happy or successful, rates below even casual notice. Just go get a fucking Livejournal, Clay. God.