New York. You see, we need some establishing shots, on account of the fact that New York is where the show takes place. It's kind of the nineteenth candidate, really. The forgotten character. You know, the one that looks really mean but actually is just busy. Trump voices over that "thousands and thousands of applicants" stood in line and sent in applications and videotaped themselves whistling with crackers in their mouths and whatnot, all in hopes of being The Apprentice, although from some of the videotapes you're about to see, it kind of seems like they were under the impression that the show was called The Hugely Irritating Wank. We see Angie stand in front of an easel where she has written the reasons she should be on the show. Because nothing says "Pick me; I'm a superstar!" like an easel. Then Brian looks into the camera and says, "See, you need me." Oh, I so do not. But you are so totally that guy who thinks I do. Michael earnestly calls himself a "sexy, moneymaking machine," without, apparently, any irony, and I kind of need an aspirin already. Crushed up and dissolved in a shot of tequila. Unsurprisingly, Danny's tape revolves around him wearing a peach suit and singing an overproduced "I want to be The Apprentice" song, accompanied by backing dork-als. As is often the case with Danny, his understanding of how many levels of irony are present is off by one. It's hard to say if he overshoots it or undershoots it, but he thinks that it ultimately comes off cool, which it doesn't. Trump talks about how he invited eighteen people to New York to "win the dream job of a lifetime," and halfway through, there are nine left. Are we really only halfway through? God. Threecap season is going to last until I'm a hundred years old.
New and somewhat unconventional factoids are highlighted as we review the candidates who are left. Erin is "a former beauty queen who has a fiancé in the Marines." Alex "grew up in an apple farm" and then he turned into a lobbyist. And, presumably, subjected himself to a lifetime of "spoiling the whole barrel" jokes. Tana is a mom, and she sells Mary Kay, not like you couldn't tell. I wonder if she has the pink car -- I'm assuming she does. Craig has a wife and four daughters, and he's a part-time firefighter. ["No mention of the shoeshine business his chyron keeps telling us he runs. Curious!" -- Wing Chun] Kendra has her own real estate company and her own '70s-retro running shorts. Bren's hair is actually better on the show than it is in his day-to-day life, which...I mean, think about it. Oh, and he prosecutes drug offenders, so he's presumably used to the futility, tail-chasing, and lack of perspective that are so common in the corporate world. Angie sold her house to start a Curves franchise. Heh. Maybe now she sleeps on the rowing machine. Chris is "a self-made millionaire," but if that's his house, he hasn't spent it on décor, that's for sure. Stephanie gets great mention for all her "supply-chain contracts" again, and she's wearing a headset, so she must be really serious. I'm so happy that headsets aren't just for Time-Life operators anymore. Anyway, one of these people will wind up as The Apprentice, and tonight, Trump will be showing you all sorts of things you haven't seen, and he will allegedly tell you what he thinks about the candidates who remain. (This will not actually happen, so file it under "Don't wait up.") He also promises us a peek at the remaining eight weeks, because yes, there are eight weeks left. The season is yooge.