Lee and Sean get summoned to the Boardroom, where they learn the fates of the disgusting and traitorous Roxanne and Allie -- then go back up to the suite, where they have to pick from past Apprenti, including Roxanne and Allie, for their final task teams. Lee, the new Gold Rush, takes on Lenny, Pepi, and Roxanne after Lenny poisons him against all other persons. Which takes half the episode. The degree to which Lenny is scary about this is implicit in the fact that Pepi, who nobody even recognizes, is one of the final team members. Sean, the new Synergy, brings Tammy and some people he doesn't care about because they will not bear his Apprentice babies. I will tell you that they are recapper sweethearts Tarek and Andrea, because that's exciting, but it honestly doesn't matter, for real, because Sean is lame. Cruelly watching Brent twist and believe that he is going to be picked is bittersweet, because it's balanced against recapper's sweethearts Dan and Charmaine going through the same deal.
The corporate sponsor is Pontiac; the charities are Denis Leary's firefighter foundation, America's Bravest, for Lee, and the World Wildlife Foundation for Sean. Sean pulls some kind of lame ass-kissing bullshit where he decides that Trump's joking and kind of sad response to Lee's pick of event -- a Barenaked Ladies concert -- means he should also pick that event, and Lee's like, "Whatever, take it." Making Sean look like a douche. Again. Lee gets a hockey game, which thankfully comes right under the band mentioned above in terms of stuff that's less fun than Ebola, meaning that we root for Lee the same amount as ever, which is "slightly more than for Ebola." Carolyn dissolves into adorable giggles after they leave, begging that somebody explain to her who Pepi is. A running theme, but particularly cute on Carolyn. If you've watched this show before, you know the next part: one charity chairperson is going to flip out like a motherfucker on one team, one corporate person flips out on the other team, and at least one team member or celebrity is taken off the board. Which begs the question, ratings-wise: if a cliff hung and nobody was there to see the hanging of the cliff, does it really hang? The answers, in order, are: firefighter charity lady going 24/7 ballistic on Lee, Pontiac getting sucky on Sean (I think this will intensify next week), and Andrea rushing her lonely, wonderful self to the ER. Which is sad because she's great and it's good to see her again, but mind-blowing and a little funny, because she seems to have contracted the previously mentioned Ebola virus, and spends the task shooting blood out of every orifice, much to Sean's dismay and everybody else's task-oriented apathy.
Still no closer to figuring out Deal Or No Deal. A wave of women without names comes flooding over a staircase and they all have numbers and giant breasts, and they open a box and clap mindlessly, and then there's a lot of yelling, and...I tried. Not in order to ever watch it again, just because it seems to be on a lot which means it's getting ratings which means America finds something of value in it. But America is, as usual, ahead of my curve, because it's just surreal to me. Also because for some reason I've been putting off this recap for days. It's a fun episode, I liked it. I don't know why I resent it so much. Maybe it's just senioritis.
There's some stressful, yet hopeful music that does the job, and we have some flashbacks. Previously Allie and Roxanne "nailed it" with some culottes, and then they stared at each other, and then they made a groovy kind of love. And then we've all agreed to pretend that they turned into bitches. Upstairs, Sean tapped his fingers on the table, with wild hair and sleepy eyes making his face even grosser than usual. Lee was eating quietly and staring, in total space cadet mode. Then a weird, awkward thing happened. Sean started playing with the china and yelling about how he's not going to wait for the lady or the tiger to come back, he's going to eat in a devil-may-care fashion, because he's just being honest, he doesn't care if it appears rude. Which, whatever, except Lee's already eating, so it's the opposite of etiquette. "If it was anyone else, I'd have the patience to wait, but I'm just bullshitting myself that I really care to wait for them," he huffs and puffs and dramatizes. And the whole time, Lee's just sitting there, clearly eating. Sean is so fucking rude. The balls-out selfishness of the propaganda there is totally at odds with what he's trying to prove about himself. "I'm going to be as classless and rude as you are. That'll show them." When like, nobody cares if Sean eats except for Sean, so he's making some kind of statement nobody cares about by not eating, and then he self-defines yet more drama by finally "giving in" and eating, no matter how they'd frown on it at Eton or whatever. Assface. Lee laughs at the camera in this wheezing inner-city way, like a droog from West Side Story or like a Newsie. "You tell 'em, Gator. We'll give those Sharks what for!"
The phone rings as Sean pissily eats, and his sleepy self takes a few seconds to register it, then answers. Robin tells them to come down to the Boardroom immediately. They run around as Sean drools and screams at us about how never before has the telephone rung during a Boardroom! NEVER! The snow starts coming down even though it's June, and the rivers run red with blood, and water runs uphill, according to Sean, when this happens. He's so excited about such value-neutral stuff. Lee, dressing, gives us another unwanted window into the mind of Lee: "Probably they're going to ask who should be fired!" No, probably not, Lee. The ideas this kid has about his own importance. I think he really believes that he was the hatchet man all those times. Like, at rest, he believes that. Whatever, chucker.