Out of a primordial darkness, creatures prowl, skulking behind walls of the Arrow Mansion, scratching and breathing hotly, hungry. At the smallest touch of a gilt candelabra, a secret passageway is revealed. A gold-framed portrait of your momma slides soundlessly out, away. Creatures come edging out slowly into the light. But what are they? What blind and bloody dawn birthed these shambling monstrosities? What unlucky sun will reveal them? Ah! It is the dread Trump, and his son! From out of the nameless terrors that haunt all McMansions, they come, slumping; with toad-set jaw and palpating mouth, with hair like sweating moss, with eyes like the moon on unholy stones, they come. Into the forty-five-watt glow of temporary and meaningless victory, they come. They come!
Stefani's like, "I loved the Vegas task because I don't give an eff about the creepy executives shadowing us, I just want to talk to Trump -- and on the Vegas task, the creepy executives shadowing us were the Trumps!" A moment of silence and then, "I WANT MY GOLDEN ARM!" the Trumps scream, jumping out into the kitchen and Stefani and Frankie scream, because the call is coming from inside the house, and finally Nicole pulls everybody together. "I'm afraid we don't have your golden arm, Mr. Trump, but would you like some dinner? I'll make you some dinner. We got Hungry Man, Cheetos, we got that cheese you squirt out of the can, I've been drinking Red Bull & Vodkas, Frank actually left some chips around here somewhere. You like hotdogs? We got a microwave. Oh! I could make Frito Pie! Do you know what that is?" Don's hair is like: "I am 35% Frito Pie and 15% wheat glutens." Trump tells them all how awesome they are and gives Frank props for making Heidi look stupid, which really helped with Trump's plan to make Heidi look stupid. Nicole laughs about how Frank, like herpes, doesn't go away no matter what Trump throws at him; again, it's a lot like she's saying something insulting while not actually trying to do so. The task is to repeat a previous task, basically, making the Lexus task the official Final Task of this season, even though it took place weeks ago. They have to make a 60-second commercial for [some room deodorizing agent], just like the scrubbing bubbles task. (The real Kinetic would be like: "Odors... of a whorehouse!" and then Muna would cry.) Trump talks for one billion years about how there's "no loser" here, because they're all winners, and OMG if he actually hires two Apprenti this year I'm calling Rebecca and Randal both, and we're taking his rich ass out once and for all.