At the end of the day, the teams retired to the suite which had once again received an Extreme Makeover: Trump Edition. Gone were those dreary greens and grays and whites. In their place were deep reds and blacks and anything else that connoted vaguely Oriental themes. Yes, for some reason, this year's living quarters were all about Asia, which would have been particularly fitting had there actually been at least one Asian person in the cast. Along with a new decor, of course, came new gadgets, and soon enough, we found Randal talking into what looked like a brass banana. Turns out it was an ultra-modern phone (how Asian!), and oh no, his grandmother had died. Her breathing tube had fallen out, and in the time it took for her husband to get a nurse, she had suffocated. Wow. Talk about an Apprentice downer. Somehow Randal managed to push on and participate in this dumb Bally's task, which is pretty impressive given the situation. I have a hard enough time focusing if there's a restaurant menu floating around, let alone a familial death.

In other news, the suite has been renamed "Royal Panda Wok."

Anyway, the next morning, it was time for the teams to shape up or ship out. The gals hit the pavement kinda, not really running, and passed out flyers to passers-by about their pseudo-yoga-lates class (it probably had nothing to do with yoga-lates, but I enjoy saying it regardless). Now let's just get something clear right now. Future Apprentice candidates, listen up reeeeaaal good, now. Whichever team solely relies on handing out flyers to people on the street ALWAYS LOSES. I don't think we've ever seen that strategy ever pay off, unless the other team was similarly disposed to such a dumb plan. Nevertheless, the ladies not only handed out flyers on the street, but they were ever so bright to make "XXX" the centerpiece of their ad campaign. And oh yeah, they used pink paper. I suppose this was Kristi's brilliant plan to appeal to seedy middle-aged men who live in their mothers's basements, and you know, just happen to want to get in shape.

By the way, the name of the women's exercise class was "Triple Threat," a title which incidentally does not feature the letter "x" in either of its words.

Well, this is CLEARLY for an exercise class!

Just when we thought this brilliant marketing plan couldn't get any more illogical, Kristi (a.k.a. pseudo Reese Witherspoon) then informed us that she wasn't marketing to people IN the club. That's right. I mean, why try to convince people who are already working out and might be, you know, interested in an exercise class? Instead, Kristi felt she could tap into a whole new demographic by hauling in the man on the street. Yes, I'm sure that lawyer headed to court will decide to take an impromptu exercise class, despite having NO WORKOUT CLOTHES.

The guys seemed a bit more savvy when it came to marketing as they actually reined in people already working out in their gym (revolutionary!), but their biggest problem was dealing with Markus, who might have looked like Cameron Crowe but certainly did not have the same way with words. Basically, Markus talked. A lot. When The Donald called him up to get the team name (Excel, like the spreadsheet), Markus then babbled on and on about who knows what. Man, I love when the idiots rise to the surface immediately. Anyway, he spent so much time yapping away that even Trump had to turn to whoever was with him (Rhona possibly?) and say, "This guy talks a lot!" Incidentally, talking a lot is a FIFTY BILLION DOLLAR INDUSTRY.

Well, over on the women's side (Team Capital Edge, we learned -- hey, why no team-naming debates this season?), the exercise classes were a BIG hit. I mean, one class had three whole people! Talk about blockbuster business. Okay, okay, it wasn't very stellar, and to show how disappointed she was, Melissa huffed and puffed and talked shit to Carolyn. "Women always hate me, fine," she said. Um, you know, I think men probably hate you too. Something about that whole "annoying personality" really turns people off.

We then paused to see a closeup of a woman's ass on the treadmill (that was NBC's way of saying, "Greetings, male viewers!") and then we eventually returned to the women's side where a proud Marshawn announced, "I do think we're gonna win this one." So clearly, the men would be winning.

Ultimately, the final score was actually much closer than I thought it would be. Capital Edge (not to be confused with Capital One) pulled in $516 worth of business, but Excel, er, excelled with $527. Advantage: MEN. And their big reward? Lunch with The Donald at the Friar's club. Poor Randal wasn't able to go on account of his grandmother's passing, but Trump was kind enough to hook him up with a helicopter to attend the funeral. Awww. I love feel-good reality now!

We then cut to commercial and look who was waiting for us! Why, failed Apprentice 2 candidate Elizabeth Jarosz. A year ago, this woman was boasting about her highly successful career as the owner of a consultant firm and former employee of Proctor & Gamble. So what is she up to now? If you answered "shilling for Bally's in a stupid commercial," then you'd be correct. Then again, she probably earned more money from that dumb spot than I have over the past three years. Man, I hate her now.

Wow, Bally's can't even get a real celeb to hawk its brand anymore.

Posted by B-side on September 24, 2005 11:14 PM