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It's a good thing the song "You Sexy Thing" exists, or the ABC Department of Suck TV Movies would have had to invent it for the scene in which Ivana and Donald are shown in their wedding finery, returning to their luxury apartment. Not clear where all the money is now coming from, but okay. He teases her about all the junk she's had shipped from Czechoslovakia, and then about the five children he wants, and then she calls him a lunatic, and then we fade to what is presumably the Blackness of Offscreen Sex. Oh, how I love it. The Blackness, that is, not the Offscreen Sex. The music just keeps funking away as Ivana and Donald cuddle in a chair at some later time, enjoying their beautiful -- or possibly "tacky" -- surroundings. We sure did get that man married off and domesticated in a hurry. Sometime later, Ivana visits her husband at the Commodore, where work continues. He introduces her around, and then she starts in talking about walnut paneling and columns and decorating ideas, because we have now entered the Ivana Trump Was Totally The Brains Behind The Operation section, making Ivana the Joyce DeWitt of the piece. Ivana begins giving instructions to the workers, and we are off. Oh, and also? Ivana and Donald suddenly are carrying around a baby, a little scamp known as "little Donald." Papa-T visits, and he doesn't like Ivana's involvement in the hotel decorating scheme at all. Because chicks aren't for working; they're for making babies! In fact, we immediately cut to an uncomfortable dinner in which Papa-T sarcastically points out that in a multimillion-dollar renovation budget, Donald is "doing it exactly right" by putting it all in the hands of "a Czechoslovakian ex-model with no design experience." Oh, and there are some slams about the marriage, too, and then Papa-T makes a really weird reference to "flag[ging] down a unicorn," which is the best accidental potential euphemism I've heard since "sneezing on your knockwurst," one that I actually picked up while watching Full House this week. (Not "watching" so much as "failing to shut off in the background," I would say in my own defense, as lame as that defense may prove to be.) It turns out that Papa-T is going for some kind of "it's like in a fantasy!" vibe, but it all gets very weird when it ends with -- I am not kidding -- his sarcastic speculation about how the "homicidal residents" of something called "Goo-Goo-ville" will ultimately wind up clubbing him to death. What this has to do with remodeling a hotel, I admit I do not know. And then Papa-T insults the soup they're all eating. What is going on here? Am I dreaming? Is this heaven? Grandma?