Realizing that -- between the culottes and the inability to remember which of the two ladies she actually is -- we've lost her, Trump turns to Roxanne and asks if she'd be a better PM. Which question Roxanne can't actually answer either, so DJ helpfully points out that you cannot do worse than the bloodbath Allie perpetrated. If this were any other Boardroom, you could just agree with that and move on, but Allie and Roxanne really do seem to think they can both come out of this safe, because they have become idiots. T-Bag: "Roxanne." She finally spits out that there were things she might have been more vocal about, and Allie gets all, "That surprises me, Mr. Trump!" Shut up your face, bobblehead. We're through. Roxanne says about the pants, how she wanted pants, and Allie's all, "That's interesting, Mr. Trump!" Which...I loved Andrea and I mourned the loss of her weird ass, Allie, and you are no Andrea, and you sound like Mathnet with that shit. "I did not know there were pants! Where is this coming from?" I vastly prefer to Roxanne to Allie, but I still have love in my heart for Allie, and I'm reminded of why when she begins to expound upon -- not kidding about this -- "the poochiness nature of the pants." "The poochiness nature of the pants"! I mean, that's awesome, right? The poochiness nature of Trump's face is all, "Who was in charge of design?" Nobody, everybody, whatever, dumb question, "and I'm surprised Roxanne would say that, Mr. Trump!" Roxanne's like, "Front Desk. Pants. Flat-front slacks." Allie: "I don't remember that, Mr. Trump!" She says they talked about skirt vs. pants, and came out 50/50. (Which, if you know the history of culottes, that's how come culottes.)