Previously on Wharton Fears a Coup: Donald Trump welcomed sixteen obnoxious suck-ups who were determined to impress him with their wits, skills, and, in some cases, boobs. Their first task involved selling crappy lemonade on the streets of Manhattan, according to the old rule of business, "Nothing hauls in the simoleans like an overpriced product no one needs." The women's team sold less lemonade for more money than the men's team, which made them the winners of the contest, and also gave them an opportunity to enjoy up close the splendor and opulence of Donald Trump's hair under the lighting of his almost unfathomably ugly apartment. It also sent the men to the Boardroom, where someone would be evicted. Er, Philiminated. Er, voted off. Wait, no -- fired. (Sorry, sorry. It all runs together.) Sam had annoyed the men, in part by spending twenty minutes trying to get someone to buy lemonade for a thousand dollars, but also by existing and breathing and doing other really pushy things. David had also annoyed the men by being arrogant, accosting prospective lemonade buyers like a common criminal, and undoubtedly talking too much about what it feels like to hold a liver in your hand and know its precise monetary value. In the Boardroom, "project manager" Troy thus took David and Sam with him to the final elimination round. Trump believed that although Sam was frankly insane, David was an equally bad businessman, and also boring and unmotivated. And if there are two things Sam isn't, they are "boring" and "unmotivated." Thus did Trump make poor David the first contestant to be fired from a reality show for something other than throwing chairs or posing for naked pictures.
Credits. I have to stop and let the credits play, even watching it on TiVo, just so I hear the song and see the first shot of Donald walking away from his limo. It kicks ass, people. Say what you will about Burnett and his flashy-trash shows, but as usual, they know what they're doing, production-wise.
We open on a shot of Manhattan at night, illuminated by approximately 200 billion individual lights, not counting open refrigerator doors. We make our way into Trump Tower and up to Suite 4, where the guys who didn't have to hang around for the final booting ceremony are giving the post-Boardroom rundown to the women. Omarosa "Assorama" Manigault-Stallworth asks whether the guys were in the Boardroom "this entire time." So apparently, the Boardroom is rather like tribal council, in that it takes a lot longer than it looks like it takes on television. Nick and Bill nod. All are aware that Troy, Sam, and David are still in the meeting -- Ereka interviews that they were "missing," but fortunately, the rest of the Trumpettes have the sense not to call the police and report it. I do believe Nick is talking about Sam when he talks about the meeting, saying, "We're talking this type of stuff," and then pounds the table and puts on a furious look. "Holy shit," Heidi says, and turns away. You know, if they outlaw table-pounding, only outlaws will pound tables.
Just then, we see Sam and Troy returning, coming down the hall outside the suite rolling their little rolly-cases. They reenter the suite, Troy saying, "By golly, oh golly." You know, it's hard to pull off "by golly, oh golly" -- Idaho hillbilly is not for amateurs, people -- but Troy can almost do it. Everyone greets the two happily, and Sam tries not to gloat any more than he can help as he tells Kristi and Amy that, indeed, Dr. David, Oddly Twitchy Non-Treater Of Patients has bitten the dust. Amy gives Sam a hug. Sam says that hug will be a thousand dollars. No, not really. Kristi explains in an interview that when David didn't come back, that made it "hit home" that people who are fired really, genuinely do not return. They may be dead, actually. Or no longer on television, which is almost the same thing. By the way, not to be hideously shallow or anything, but I love Kristi's café au lait sweater in this interview. I can't wear that shade because I have the wrong coloring and look therefore like a grocery bag in it. This, among other things, bothers me.