Heidi goes outside for a cigarette. The team joins her on the balcony, where she asks who everybody wants as project manager for the next task. Assorama says that she'll do it -- wow, big of her to volunteer, considering that she and Heidi are the only ones on the team who haven't done it already. She interviews in her usual grandiose fashion that she took this big step because she felt the need to "step up," like, hello, blockhead, you're one of the two people on your team who have ducked it until now. You're not so much "stepping up" as you are choosing not to be the very last weenie to take the reins. (That very last weenie, by the way, would be Heidi the self-appointed local bad-ass, if you're keeping score.) The team decides that Assorama indeed will be the project manager. There is a delicious irony in the fact that they made her the PM for a task that turned out to be as dependent as any they've ever done on your basic likeability. Of course, as explained previously, the other choice was Heidi, so...I think that makes Assorama the devil and Heidi the deep blue sea. Or vice versa. Assorama interviews with a grin that if the team wins, she will "seal [her] fate in this game." I totally agree. One win by her team will pretty much render everything else that happens irrelevant, as the world does, after all, revolve on an axis labeled with her name, while stars with her face engraved in their sides twinkle in the heavens.

The next morning, the silver phone rings. Robin tells Assorama that Trump wants them at Wollman Rink in forty-five minutes. Aw, Serendipity…aw, Cusack…awwww, Wollman Rink. I literally had to fire up Rhapsody and listen to a little Nick Drake. Anyway, Heidi voices over that she has no idea what's coming, as we watch Kwame ironing. With, I would point out, a six-inch swath of boxers sticking out above his pants. Kwame apparently just walked off the set of Clueless, where he was participating in the famous "As if!" sequence. Heidi says firmly that Protégé must win. "We have no option," she says.

We see the candidates leaving, and then a nifty overhead shot slides from Trump Tower over to the rink. Nice. At the rink, Donald is checking out the rink, which is apparently yet another of his many dominions, and he's told that all is well. He plugs the rink rather clumsily (he has many possessions, but there is no such thing as Trump National Subtlety), and then goes off to meet the candidates. When he gets to them, he forces them all to sit through a lengthy story about how he rescued the rink from obscurity and saved it and is generally awesome, and how without him, there would be a great big mass of urban blight instead of all the skating. I have a feeling that the first real task during many of these challenges is pretending to care, if you know what I mean. I have no idea how accurate this little "Donald Trump, King of The Philanthropy Capades" tale really is, but he uses it as a lead-in to this week's task, in which, just as he "gave back" to the city, the Trumpettes will have the opportunity to "give back" by raising money at an auction at Sotheby's for the Elizabeth Glaser Pediatric AIDS Foundation. Starting a sad trend that will last throughout the episode, Trump pronounces her name "Glay-zshur." Not. At any rate, Trump tells them that the teams will be meeting with five celebrities each, to set up some kind of an "experience" with that celebrity that can be auctioned off for charity. Whoever pimps out their celebrities for the most money total will be the winner. Losers to the Boardroom, as usual. "Good luck, do well, and raise lots of money for this great charity," he says. Because if you don't raise money for charity, you will be humiliated and tossed aside like the garbage you are! It's all about the love, people.