Previously on Hotel New Crapshire: Brian chose toilets over carpeting, which is a fine idea in a men's room, but not such a great idea at a motel. He also chose dictatorship over diplomacy, and made even Kristen look cool for telling him to shut up. He made John hate him, which isn't easy, and he wasn't able to compensate for his personal sucking with good performance, so he went down in a blaze of glory by firing himself. And Magna threw a big kegger. (Is that giving Magna short shrift? You have to understand, I'm trying to get this recap done so that I can go to some God-forsaken location in Wisconsin -- booooo! -- to be a spectator at a cutthroat chicken-eating contest. So totally not lying.)
This week's New York skyline porn is accompanied by acoustic guitar, which is quite a change-up, and which makes no sense at all, until you hear a woman singing badly. So apparently, one of the chicks has appropriated Danny's guitar and is using it to lament her old boyfriends or something, not that I can make out any words. And not that she seems to have committed to any particular key, although I'm not one to knock artistic freedom. She's doing it in a very, very off-key fashion, unfortunately. But when we pop up into the L-Pal, we find that -- ack! -- it's actually Danny singing like a woman singing badly. It's these moments when I wish someone would hit me with something heavy, seriously. My kingdom for a candlestick. And he's wearing a salmon-colored t-shirt, too, so it's like he's 37 percent girl, and it's the kind of girl who's 74 percent nail polish. As he continues playing, he voices over that he's happy they're "moving ahead" following the Verna meltdown of last week. "This is going to be great!" he interviews, not sounding very convinced for a guy who likes to make his team yell, "UNBELIEVABLE!" like they've all been drinking the Fool-Aid.
The door to the suite opens, and here comes the entire Net Worth team, with the exception of Fire-Me Brian, who of course put himself so firmly in the line of fire last week that there was no point in a final table. "Count how many people are walking in right now," Kristen (I think) comments. As if anyone on this show can count. Give me a break. "He fired Brian right then and there," someone says, as Kendra's mouth hangs comically open. "What happened?" asks some Magnan or another. "He's an idiot walking," says Audrey of the Five-Dollar Ass. Uh, no offense. In my favorite moment of the episode, even though I will hate Michael by the end, Tara tells the group that Brian basically told himself, "I'm fired," and Michael responds by holding up the Trump-alicious cobra hand in his own face and saying, "He went like this? 'I'm fired'?" And he seems to be serious, that for a moment, he thinks Brian literally fired himself. Tara clarifies that no, she's not saying it was quite like that. Hee. Michael says with great irony in an interview that this means "rules can be broken" in the Boardroom, given the failure to even do a final table.