The task this week sends the teams to Home Depot to do a "clinic" of some sort. At first, Net Worth appears to be off to a better start, until it becomes clear that they don't really realize that there's a fine line between "mobile kitchen island" and "twenty-five-dollar utility cart I could get at Target and wouldn't have to STAIN MYSELF." Oh, and it's good if, before you demonstrate how to build something, you actually understand how to build it. At any rate, over at Magna, Craig takes all manner of crap from his team about his idea to build storage boxes, but when it becomes clear that he's not trying to sell a box as much as he's selling the personalization of the box, things come together rather nicely. I mean, you don't need hard-boiled eggs, either, but that doesn't mean a lot of people aren't cranking up the dye right about now. So in the end, Magna wins by a mile, sending Angie and her team to the Boardroom. Chris's temperamental outbursts are getting worse by the week, and it looks briefly like that, combined with his tobacco-chewing habit, will doom him. But ultimately, Erin's inability to keep her mouth shut and her need to wink at Donald Trump dooms her to a well-deserved firing. It's not good to get too overconfident, there, chickadee. Really, really not good.
Previously on All John Needs Is To Get His Boogie Down: The teams negotiated "personal experiences" with music stars (in the case of Gene Simmons, perhaps a little too personal), and Craig and Tana thought big with Moby and Li'l Kim and nailed down a week on tour with each, while John and -- well, just John, since he didn't really let anyone else participate -- went for the opposite of broke with the slightly smaller idea of playing a few songs in someone's yard. John treated the women on his team like accessories, and thus was the only one left standing to take the blame, and he went home. Of course, you couldn't tell at the time that his ideas are as crappy as you can tell they are when you watch the previouslys, because in the original show, it wasn't accompanied by quite so much of the Merrily Honking Bassoon of Incompetence. Oh, and Trump thought that Erin was totally awesome on television. Of course, Trump also probably thinks Trump is totally awesome on television. Will her newfound Trumpularity pay off for Erin? Will it mean that (horrors) the big guy can't take her seriously? Nine are left. Who will go next?
For whatever reason, our New York porn this week starts with a view of the stock market ticker rendered reflected in something and rendered in reverse. It's always sad when you can tell that the camera guys are bored, like, "I did not go to school to shoot punks dragging suitcases down the hall." Anyway, after a weird and unnecessary establishing shot of the "Trump Tower" lettering, we finally make it back up to the Love Palace, where the Aspiring Corporate Weasel Death Watch is in full swing. The one thing that everyone is in agreement on is that Trump will not be firing Erin. Angie, in a balcony interview, says that she suspects that it will be John who won't return. At the very least, she thinks it will John or Chris. In other words, who's being fired? "Not Erin." See? The aspiring corporate weasels who are lying in wait hear a sound, and they think that it might be the pitter-pat of returning Boardroomers. The door opens, and Erin confidently strides in, moving with such enthusiasm that her hair actually streams out behind her. And there's Chris, so now they know. Angie runs over and hugs Chris very enthusiastically. Stephanie and Erin, unsurprisingly, hug also. But then, they're like that.
Erin, wearing an alarmingly ugly green poncho, gives an interview in which she congratulates herself for her ability to "speak like a rational human being." In the L-Pal, she retells her glory from the Boardroom and saving herself by not talking, despite the fact that she sort of almost sandbagged herself exactly by talking. Angie then interviews that Erin is "a contender." She says that with Erin's intelligence and ability to talk her way out of situations, she's "quick as a whip." "And," Angie adds, "it doesn't hurt that every time you turn around, you see her ass." Well, jeez. I realize you people probably know this, but it hurts me. We then watch the montage of Erin shaking her bon-bon here and there, and then...Erin and Stephanie are making fart jokes? Or something? I mean, nothing against fart jokes, but there's something about people who do fart jokes and clearly have no other jokes that just kind of kills fart jokes for the rest of us. At any rate, they're all screwing around, and Angie interviews that Chris, Stephanie, and Erin are all her "adopted kids," because they act like such morons all the time. I'm sure Angie's actual kids are very flattered. The silliness continues, with Erin and Stephanie doing "not-so-fresh feeling" jokes that were old about fifteen years ago, and Angie clarifying that she won't hesitate to ground them if they don't knock it off. So knock it off! For once, Angie and I are in complete agreement.
Magna has a...very unusual "meeting" in which Craig tells them that obviously, since he hasn't been PM yet, it's his turn. He claims in an interview that he's "looking forward to stretching [him]self," which would be a lot more convincing as a yoga-esque expression of leadership passions if he hadn't appeared to dodge the PM spot for such a long time. Stranger still, Craig then says that he wants to read them all "an inward expression of who [he is]," in the form of...a poem? A mission statement? A manifesto? It has some stuff in it about how it's better to be by yourself than with people who suck, and that doesn't seem like an auspicious beginning for a PM on this show. But everyone tries to look serious, and then there's this great interview clip of Tana where she says, "Craig sat us down and just started talking about...something about..." and then they cut it off. Awesome. We return to Craig, lecturing about "seeking" and "insight" and something something, and the entire team is looking at each other like they're wondering whether they're allowed to crack up, and they're pretty sure they shouldn't. Alex asks if someone should say a prayer, and Craig says "definitely," so they all...hold hands. It's a prayer circle, y'all. Alex says in an interview that the team is supporting Craig and everything, but they don't really understand what he's talking about at this point. Maybe that's where the faith part comes in. Anyway, Alex just thinks that Craig "doesn't communicate his ideas effectively." Unlike Alex, who will not hesitate to go out and learn slang from 2002 if that's what it will take to drive a point home and reel in the victory for the team.