Now, Captain Pepsi asks his people for feedback on the presentations they just saw. The first guy jumps in, kind of like that Friends episode where Ross volunteers to be the first one to say something rude about Monica's boyfriend. He calls the Mosaic bottle "two blobs of badly-colored tennis balls." Yeah, I don't think that's a compliment. "It's ugly," he says, to the nervous chuckles of his colleagues. The next guy says, "I don't remember the last time geography was cool." I think that's actually a pretty fool-ass comment, because there isn't any doubt that you could do good globe-centered marketing. This didn't happen to be it, but that's not a great piece of criticism. Another guy fills in the obvious hole by saying, without great enthusiasm, that he likes the Apex bottle and thinks it has more to "work with." Meaning, "You put some people who know what they're doing on that hole thing, and you might come up with a product that sucks a lot les than the other one, which is hopeless!" Indeed, the consensus is that Apex was far less incompetent than Mosaic.
Captain Pepsi brings the teams back into the room, and Trump is summoned by phone to hear the results. He tells Trump about Apex's nice, contemporary bottle. Mosaic? They were, uh, consistent. Consistently bad, unfortunately. On the basis of the bottle design itself, Apex takes the prize. And, revoltingly, Kelly spits out, "Check the box!" when their win is announced. Ewwwww. That is so gross. Trump, allegedly sitting in his office talking to them live (yeah, RIGHT), tells them that he was impressed with the speed with which they put their presentation together and whatnot. He goes on to tell them that therefore, their reward will be all about speed. They're going up to the Poconos to race Lamborghinis. I know, you are jealous. Trump tells Kelly that he's going to be exempt next week, and thus in the final four, and yaaaawwwwwn. Losers? Trump will see you in the Boardroom.
Trump helipad. Ivana, Kevin, and Kelly pile into the Trumpicopter, which lifts up over Manhattan. Shortly, they land at the racetrack, to the strains of loud music. Because everyone knows that what this show needs is more stuff to buy, we are treated to lingering, admiring shots of the (in my opinion) really ugly little Lamborghinis they'll be driving. Ivana, explaining a lot about herself without meaning to, tells us that she's never driven one of these -- she wrecked the Porsche her father gave her when she was 16. I personally believe that anyone who gives a 16-year-old a Porsche should be locked up, because really, how better to encourage the kind of show-off, too-fast, BS driving in which everyone else on the roads would rather your spoiled brat did not engage? The All-New Co-Ed Apexiennes zip up into yellow racing suits. And again, they are ugly. Just saying. Kevin explains to us that when he was a kid, he had a picture of a Lamborghini in his room. So this is his "dream car." Mine, incidentally, was a jeep, because I was moderately tomboyish and probably inadequately ambitious. ["Mine was an Alfa Romeo, because I was pretentious." -- Sars] Unnecessary guitar music whangs in the background as they all take off to tear around the track. There is fast driving. No one dies. Ivana compares it to sex, and some disgusted editor throws in a quasi-orgasm from her while she's driving, because it's a boring week and she's a buffoon, and you have to take your dirty jokes where you find them. Isn't that really all you needed to know? Yeah, I thought so.