The Final Four

Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A | Grade It Now!
Lesson Thirteen: Stinky Bums Are Definitely Funny

What's even less interesting than editing video is watching some motherfuck edit video. Aaron and Angela are crashed out on the couch, looking very blonde and muscled. James gives himself another fucking OTF pep talk about how amazing it is that he not only has no idea what he's doing, but is so very intense that he required no sleep at all. "Who knows if it'll work?" he asks, but it's so fucking rhetorical. If you can convince yourself that the "creativity" you take from outside your body and then regurgitate verbatim is coming from your actual person, that's like so offensive to me, okay, but if you can convince yourself of that, you're not the kind of person who wonders whether your shit-ass commercial is going to "work" or not. No matter what you see, you're going to feel like you're Turning Gold, and that's how morons work. Stefani just stares at James lecturing literally nobody about how he's so intense and into this and blahblah and fiddling unendingly with the horrible, awful, stupid footage, assembling an ever-stupider commercial and taking this whole franchise to hell with him.

Entering [the very branded movie theatre] are the teams, the execs, and some tourists carrying well-branded movie food products. Like giant cups with the logo, giant buckets of popcorn with the logo, all of it. It's a sea of this particular movie theatre onscreen as they take their seats. Stefani gets her presentation mojo happening and calls [the deodorizer] a "household name for decades." (Oh, man. I blanked on the whole beginning part where Trump goes, "... one of my mother's favorite products; beside me... are two executives." Thanks, Karen. Somehow the idea of Trump's mother being passionately devoted to an air freshener is neither as surprising nor as interesting as one might prefer.) The tourists all applaud boredly and then things get stupid. The ad is totally cheesy, there are like sneaky lawyers, sketchy jurors, all the actors look like meth heads, there's bad acting coming at you full force, there's these weird fade edits every couple seconds for no reason like they didn't pan the cameras at any point in the filming, but just shot every angle and then more bad acting happened. The executives are edited to look as though they are laughing at the stupid ad, and the lawyer asks the "odor expert" if he found any evidence of odors, and he says no, but he did find [Friday Night Lights], and everybody falls asleep in the entire theatre, and then they're like, "He's gui... not guilty!" Because he used the spray to take the smell out of the house, I guess because he has a goddamn time machine, which creates a paradox in which this trial should not be happening because he used the product to keep this trial from happening. The screen goes black and all "But is he?" WTF? Is he guilty of stinking up the living room? We're meant to presume yes. Is the living room currently stinky? We're meant to presume no. I will grant you -- barring the wife having a psychic sense of smell -- his guilt or innocence is something of an existential dilemma at most. But it still doesn't explain why in the last moments the whole thing takes a sharp left turn into Lynch: the last shot is of him and his wife hugging at the kitchen table, grinning like lunatics. THANKS FOR BEING SO CREATIVE, JAMES.

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