But Can They Sing? - 
by B-side
On this week's Apprentice, I was all geared up for the second coming of "The Rubble Man" after the previews promised a wild and crazy songwriting challenge. The good news was that we did indeed get a nice sampling of corporate types testing out their windpipes, but unfortunately, when it came to the bulk of the singing this episode, we were left in the capable and therefore unentertaining hands of professionals. For shame. In this age of Bai Ling and William Hung and the Apprentice's very own Adam ("FREAKIN!!!!"), it's a near crime not to have atonal reality stars try their hand at some vocals. Maybe Trump just didn't want his very special Emmy night crooning to be overshadowed. Don't worry, Donny. We'll never forget it...
The episode kicked off on a very rainy, very gloomy night in New York City. Oh the harsh city! So unforgiving! Much like this demanding interview process! As stoplights flicked from red to green, we returned to the suite to find our dearest Clay bitter about not getting exemption from firing. His eye-rolling and snipping were momentarily halted so that everyone could react to the double firing of Marshawn and Brian, but then it was back to the bitchiness faster than you can say "Patterned shirts!" Sensing a rift in the team, Capital Edge assembled outside to perform that most futile of traditions: the losing team pep talk. You know how that goes. Empty comments like "Whatever happened is over and done," and "We can't change that now," and "We need to be a team." In this particular powwow, Alla told Clay, "I think we could have a strong team if you could just get over your personal feelings." To which Clay retorted passive-aggresively, "The personal feelings that were put on me?" Ah yes. That's the Clay we love: petty, bitchy, difficult, petulant. The total package.
"I call him a roadblock," Alla explained to us in an interview. "He objects just for the sake of objecting." C'mon. Just call him a cockblock. Let the censors bleep it out later. You know you want to, Alla.
Anyway, back at the Capital Edge grand conclave, Adam implied that Clay did a below-par job on the latest task, causing the beleaguered teammate to adopt his most thrill prissy voice and say, "WE are done. Goodnight!" And with that, Claymarosa ushered his teammates away by performing the rarely seen passive-aggressive bow. You know the type: the hands clasping each other behind the back, the little rock on the heels of the feet, the quick torso slant. It's all an elaborate gesture that's supposed to imply, "I am so full of rage that I must hold myself back from assaulting you," but instead it usually comes off as, "I am an annoying bitch."
Well, despite this harrowing Clay experience, we greeted the next day full of promise and optimism as hopeful music blared on the soundtrack. Why, it made me want to seek out one of those joyous Rent commercials on my Tivo (cut to me having "Seasons of Love" in my head for the next two hours. I haven't even seen the damn show. Stupid musical commercials). We then cut to 6:30 AM in the suite, and what was Clay doing? Dicing some oranges! One might think he was preparing breakfast, but those of us in the know could immediately tell he was preparing to bedazzle his polka dot shirt with pieces of oranges. Anyway, Rhona called up, which meant we got to see the always suggestive image of Clay handling the dildo phone. This morning's assignment: meet Trump at Trump Modeling and Management. Sounds like a plan, Rhones! We then cut to Rhona hanging up with Clay, but not before she randomly burst into giant RhonaLaughter and chuckled, "Okay, bye!" Looks like somebody's having a fantastic morning. Unfortunately, we never got to find out what was so funny, which didn't surprise me. After all, Rhona LOVES inside jokes!
Hey, look what Clay found up his ass!
Later, we found Trump at his agency leering at Jennifer, the reigning Miss Universe. "She's been our best," Trump boasted, as if she were some sort of high-performance mini-van. Then, in an odd bit of staging, the teams entered the room, causing Trump to say, "Wait right there." We watched the candidates come to a halt, and seconds later, Trump said to his gang, "Okay, let's go." He then emerged from one room and into the main area where the candidates were. Now hold on a second here. If Trump were in a whole other room, why would he have told everyone to wait right there. How could he have seen them? Can he see through walls? Or does he just have a supernatural sense about these things. Trump then turned to the camera and blared, "HAVING A SUPERNATURAL SENSE IS A THIRTY BILLION DOLLAR BUSINESS!"
Anyway, with the teams uneven, Clay requested to head over to Excel. Trump granted him this wish, and as Clay joined the ranks of Rebecca and Randal, he said, "I'll take a hug." Meanwhile, Adam turned to Alla and said, "I'll take a gummy smile."
With the teams reshuffled, it was time to get down to business. For this week's task, the groups would be working with XM Radio. And now, Mr. Trump, please do your thang: "XM Satellite Radio has a value of 9.5 BILLION DOLLARS!" Only 9.5? LAME. Anyway, the teams would have to audition unsigned singers, sign them, write a song, and supervise the creative aspects of a record. The song will then play live on "XM Café" (also known as the boring station that wannabe hip adults listen to). Trump then informed everyone that "The team whose song best fits the format of XM Café as judged by the XM Satellite executives wins." He then added that teams would then take the XM bus to the XM reward where they'd eat XM seafood at the XM restaurant in XM City.
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