The Apex women get together for a meeting. Oh, this should be fun. Stacy invites anyone to "vent," by which she means "baa along with the rest of the sheep." She says she wants to "get it out all in the open." Stacie points out that if anyone needs to vent, it should be her, considering that they all just tried to flay her alive in front of Trump. Stacie argues to the rest of the women that she "was selling [her] ass off" during the ice cream task, and that there's no way they should all have ganged up on her. Maria blinks about 40,000 times, and then does this condescending bit where she sticks her hand out and says, "I'm gonna stop you right there." Oh, are you? By all means, let me know when I can go on again, Maria the Conversational Referee, because I certainly wouldn't want to be moving when you've already thrown a flag. Maria goes on to recall the "freaking out" during the first task, which she claims made everyone upset and nervous. Stacie allows that it may have been a moment of weakness, but instead of letting her finish her sentence, Stacy jumps in and says that it showed "an inability to cope in a situation that's stressful." And of course, that's quite different from "I think you're clinically insane," so you might hang on to it. Stacie interviews that the Apexiennes all seem to have seen this as a weakness she will now have to overcome, and then we see Maria literally waggle her finger at Stacie and say, "That can never happen again." Maria haughtily goes on to say that it's all about whether they're all going to be generous enough to give Stacie another chance. You know, with the finger-waggling and the "stop you right there," she could be any nightmarish mother-in-law in the history of the hackneyed vaudevillian Theater of Misogyny. ["I have to say, at this point, if I were Stacie, I'd have quit, but because this venting session is ridiculous, they're all bitches, and I'd want them to go fuck themselves without me." -- Wing Chun]
The next morning, the phone rings and Kevin runs to answer it. Rhona (whose name I have been misspelling, it turns out) tells him that Trump will meet them in the lobby at 8:00 AM. They all converge on the lobby, dressed as usual. Jennifer C. is working her naughty-librarian-from-1956 thing, Raj has a polka-dot bowtie...you get the picture. They're icons, except that they're traced in chalk and will be washed off the pavement of America's mental cul-de-sac in the first drizzle of Hey, It's January And Something Else Is On. The overly dramatic trumpets sound once again as Trump and the Viceroys descend the Trump Tower escalator like the Evil Billionaires of Ancient Egypt. They meet the candidates in the lobby, and Trump praises the lobby. Look, the lobby! Once he's gotten this crucial task out of the way, he introduces a couple of spare people who are with him, who turn out to be two Procter and Gamble executives. As it turns out, P&G is launching a new product: Crest Vanilla Mint Toothpaste. Wow. There's a combination for which I've been holding my breath. That, and Salmon-Yogurt Popsicles. P&G will provide a $50,000 budget with which the candidates will have to create "buzz" about this truly foul-sounding product. But preferably, not the kind of "buzz" where people talk about how completely foul it sounds, which I think will be best achieved by avoiding use of the words "Vanilla" and "Mint" as much as possible. The executives will be judging the teams' success, so it's going to be a little subjective, as opposed to a money-counting task. And George and Carolyn will be watching. I love Carolyn's cream-colored suit, by the way. I could never wear that color, because I would look like I was made of mashed potatoes, but she can. Oh, and if you lose, your team goes to the Boardroom and somebody gets fired. In case you forgot that part.