Trump congratulates Randal for having "it" under control, and shakes his hand, and Josh draws imaginary parallels between Trump and Randal, and then there's a crazy meta moment as Josh talks about how "It was real, it wasn't scripted and it wasn't rehearsed," but the wack thing is how totally scripted and fake he sounds and looks saying this. Sugar Ray -- but not the bad one -- is there some more, and Jerry O'Connell is totally tooling it up, and Jerome Williams is there with his insane veneers, and more Thom and a tiny blonde lady, and they auction some kind of Sugar Ray thing for $, then $$, then $$$, et cetera. Auctions. Always exciting to watch. And watch. And watch. Singer's loving the money for all the auction items, and tells us she's pleased about the autism message being all out there and well-spoken and touching, but neglects to mention how very way ahead of herself she's been getting for the last two episodes, and the Sugar Ray thing ends up at $3000, and Trump leaves, but we don't, and even Singer seems kind of bored.
There's yet more fascinating footage of Trump getting out of a helicopter, into a limo, down a street, and meanwhile at Cap Edge, Hazy Shade of Wintour and the other Yahoo! lady have intensely and unsurprisingly cornered Rebecca about specifically what Yahoo! swag there is in the gift bags, and Rebecca's like, "One thousand stupid purple tchotchkes and we also wanted to include Glaser stuff," which throws Hazy Shade for a loop. "And how did you end up handling that." Oh my God, lady. Rebecca explains that they will not be asking for any donations whatsoever at this charity benefit, and the Yahoo! ladies heave a gigantic and autumn-brittle sigh of relief. Rebecca interviews that she's focusing that part of her brain on how they put brochures all about AIDS in the backpacks, along with envelopes, and how, "hopefully, after a wonderful night, they'd see the envelope," and I guess I can buy that. Not optimal, but I wouldn't fight those ladies for a crepe, much less a marketing strategy, and besides, she's demonstrated her actual belief that the client here is Yahoo!, who is doing a nice thing for Glaser, rather that Glaser is doing this with the help of Yahoo! Trump asks Rebecca on the cell whether he'll be "impressed or disappointed," and because she's not Brian, she answers in the positive, and he says he's on his way.
After another damned commercial break, we get more wisdom! The watchword for the next hour is R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to Trump. Answer: Nothing. "Always treat your boss with great respect. It makes you look good, and it makes somebody like me -- ME, do you understand? ME! THE BOSS! -- feel even better." You know that shit's verbatim. Read it again. That's what we're dealing with here. We've spoken, have we not, about how Trump cannot see beyond the edge of his shriveled, flaccid, hideous weltanschauung? Don't think it's getting better from here on out. "So let's see how Rebecca handled me. Did she do well? Did she do poorly? Take a look!" The music broadcasts its opinion about how Rebecca handled it, but we'll have to agree to disagree.