This week's installment picked up, as usual, with the cast sitting around the loft, waiting for the boardroom peeps to come back. Chris, fresh from defending his heterosexuality, grabbed a glass of whiskey and let the alcohol flow through his veins. Moments later, he crushed the tumbler with his hands and yelled "GOTTA... CALM... DOWN!!!" Okay, maybe he didn't say that. But definitely needing to take it down a notch was Erin who came sprinting into the suite like a bull in Pamplona. She was either extremely excited to have survived the boardroom, or her giant hair had finally turned on her, forcing her to charge towards the nearest window and plummet to her death. Unsurprisingly, it was the former.

Audrey explained how things went down with Mr. Trump, but really all I could hear was a steady stream of bleeps. I also noticed the producers inserted some peppy, urban music in the background. It was sort of their way of saying "Ay ay ay! Peppy Latina!" Meanwhile, Michael Tarshi, after a week of being good, reverted to his normal stupid ways as he boasted about his likeness to Trump: "He only likes Eastern European women. I only date Eatern European women —  exclusively!" And with that, the great Eastern European Women Emigration of 2005 began. To be fair, Michael did cite some other similarities between him and The Donald: They both love sunsets, walks on the beach, and, of course, walks on the beach AT sunset. So you see, everyone else should really just step aside now.

The next day, everyone showed up in front of Trump World Tower where a bundled up Alex dazzled everyone with his scarf of corporate majesty. Trump soon arrived with George and NotCarolyn by his side. No Carolyn? Quel horreur! I guess she was off on one of those intense country club management conventions (I kid! I kid! Don't fix your icy glare on me Carolyn!). Anyway, Carolyn's replacement was Jill Kramer, a marketing guru from Trump's empire. "Have fun Jill. Enjoy it," said Trump. Seriously, crack a smile or something. You're on TV for crying out loud! (And with that, Jill screamed like a madwoman and flashed her boobs).

What is this "smile" concept you speak of?

The mission this week was simple enough. Each group would outfit a bare Airstream Trailer into a mobile business with the help of $5,000 in seed money. Where would they get that money? "I have here two Visa credit cards," Trump announced as he turned to the camera and smiled for his sponsors. Oh Donny Wonny! You're a good corporate shill, aren't you! Aren't you!

After we were all done petting the Donald for a plug well done, the teams departed to brainstorm. Bren, this week's project manager for Magna, tried to think of interesting business opportunities. "Something that focuses on kids," he suggested. Hmmm... A mobile unit that preys on children? Let's just start the Amber Alert now.

Ultimately, Magna opted for a mobile spa getup. Not a bad choice. Creative genius Michael insisted that the business name should be "Massage-A-Go-Go" in homage to the Whiskey-A-Go-Go in Los Angeles. Mixing "massage" and "go-go" actually makes me think of that other LA institution: The Hustler Store. "Massage-A-Go-Go is great. It's like Sushi-A-Go-Go," Michael argued. Uh, and what exactly is Sushi-A-Go-Go? Tarshi's idea was predictably shot down as Erin quipped "You're a pig-a-go-go." The group then engaged in several "a-go-go" puns, but sadly, the moment did not transition into a musical ode to the Wham! classic, "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go." I guess I was the only one who kept expecting Tarshi to suddenly snap his fingers twice and go "Jitterbug!" You have to admit, that would have been pretty awesome.

Over at Net Worth, perky but surprisingly capable Tana stepped up as PM. She approved an idea by Angie to charge people for consultations with a casting director. Now, I'm not an actor, but I'm pretty sure the general rule of thumb is that you never, NEVER pay to audition. Charging for a casting consultation is what we like to call a "con". But whatever. It was a unique idea and Tana felt like she had to follow her instinct on this one. Oh, and by the way, the lesson for this episode? Follow your instinct. So I guess the sham wins out over the spa, huh? But that can't be. Magna has a good idea. Surely they can't lose. We then returned to the loft where Michael was handling a burnt pizza disaster. Wow, Magna can't even heat up a frozen dinner. Yeah, they're gonna lose.

With time ticking away, we returned to the Airstream garage, but not before an ostentatious establishment shot showed a bird flying to the sound of dramatic, swooping music. Oooh. Such a powerful image. I'm surprised we didn't see Mark Burnett rub his hands together and exclaim "That's my Emmy shot!" He could then throw his coffee in the face of an assistant and yell "Too cold! Too cold!"

Posted by B-side on February 20, 2005 8:41 PM