Well, Verna's desire to quit didn't wear off last week quite as much as she'd hoped, so this time, she's really quitting. Farewell, Verna. Not really sure what else to say. Anyway, this week's task involves a NescafÃ© promotion, and because it seems to be about wacky marketing, Magna appoints Danny to be the PM. Net Worth appoints Angie, but she's all professional and has ideas and shit, so there's not much to say about that. Michael proves to be the first person ever to be so stupid about his exemption that he conspicuously, egregiously acts like a total ass, pissing off his team and ensuring that when Trump gets a good opportunity, Michael will be sent packing. But not this week, despite Danny's plea for Trump to bend the rules and send Michael home in spite of the exemption after Magna takes the loss. In fact, Danny goes so far as to bring Michael to the final table, hoping for a miracle, but there is no miracle to be had. Danny takes his guitar and hits the pavement, but not before singing his way through the most painful taxi interview sinceâ¦well, since last week.
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.
Craig, John, and Kendra shoot hoops (I knew she was the coolest of the women) as Danny comforts a still-lagging Verna. Verna assures Danny that she'll be fine. He voices over that she looks "run-down," but he thinks she'll rally. Ha ha ha, yeah. Probably. Verna tells Danny she has "inner strength to stay here." So she's about to get out all that inner strength and run it up the flagpole. Stand back! Verna's inner strength is flapping! He tells her that if she's feeling sick and needs to lie around, she should just do that and "let [the team] be sensitive to that." Yeah, I'll be counting on their sensitivity. Danny interviews that he wanted to "get everyone together as a support group" for Verna. A support group? What is this, a Dr. Phil special? Gah. Danny gets the team in the living room, where he announces that if Verna wants to stay home from the task tomorrow and lag around the suite, "that's cool." The rest of the team has this expression on their faces: "Um." Erin, wearing a fur-trimmed coat that saps all her credibility, sarcastically characterizes Danny's approach in an interview as "this clearly isn't The Apprentice, this is clearly kindergarten." And if that's true, if Danny does think that, I think all that really means is that he saw last season. Back in the lack-of-support group, Erin speaks up that she's not so sure about Verna staying home from the task. Like, what would happen if she needed to stay home, and then they lost, and they went to the Boardroom? She's also concerned about Verna quitting again in the future, logically enough. Michael opines in an interview that he personally believes Verna is physically fine, she's just not up to the fast-paced stuff. It's the kind of thing guys say when they're struggling to finish a sentence without using the words "she probably has" or "her period."