Team Lee. I wish we could talk to the firees instead and just pretend that this stupid final task never even happened because it's so boring. Which the show basically does, but we still have to watch this crap happen. VIP reception at Chelsea Piers, people milling about, drinking champagne and white wine, Pepi and Lee stressing about something that's not really very clear. Trump calls Lee and Lee answers the phone calling him "Buddy." Cobra. "Am I going to be impressed in ten minutes?" Lee says that he will, but that he can't fuck around or be lame because the thing starts at 5 PM. Ignoring the fact that Lee just questioned his punctuality, Trump flips the script and says that Lee better have his shit together because he's gotta leave and go to the other event as well. Lee yells at all the VIPs that they have to go get ready and to grab a gift bag, and Lenny makes the essential contribution of telling them harshly to "Play good." When Trump arrives, Lee is doing something or another and then gets lost in the building, so that Trump basically has to do a Priestly and wander around by himself. When Lee finally finds Trump, Trump is royally pissed and bitches him out. Just like every year. Lee takes him to sit in the risers with Pontiac cutie, and his nod to kissing Trump ass is to hand him a Diet Coke. In a can.
This is farce. There's a red carpet across the middle of the ice, and Lee introduces the players, and then the dad from that awful sitcom about the two gay dads yells about some stuff, and Lee tells us about how you have to "talk about the foundation" so it'll "make them happy." Lee doesn't understand the whole "charity" thing, I think. Hockey is played. Hockey equals lots and lots of socks and hitting. Both blood and vomit bounce if it's cold enough. That's all I know about hockey.
Team Sean. A panda suit person welcomes people to the event. Pontiac cutie worries about not having enough signage and George -- without even thinking about it -- glad-hands the guy about how "You don't need much! They sell themselves!" I wish that George and Lee would yell at each other in a Chinese restaurant about how they each think the other person's life is perfect, and then they would switch bodies, and then Lee could learn a thing or two. George is so awesome. Andrea and Sean get their last minute stuff together, and she bids him good luck sweetly. Andrea sounds pretty good telling people about the cars, and sounds pretty knowledgeable, even though she never says anything about engines or performance and just about the rims and stuff you can see with your eyeballs. Sean sneaks off and goes shopping for hair gel in the Taj Mall. This is not a lie, this is totally the truth. "It's for good luck," he says more than once, and then we watch him spraying his hair down. Fuckface. This is exactly what I'm talking about: he's going to win, but it won't mean anything, because he's winning by sucking less. You couldn't edit it in such a way that we wouldn't be in a quandary of not wanting to root for Lee v. not wanting Sean to win? That's not entertainment, that's a punishment.