Were you wondering how long it would take Omagrosa to capitalize on her dead fiance this season? I was … she’s volunteering as PM to make “money for Michael’s charity”.
I’d sell his overalls from The Green Mile if it helps me win this show.
Let’s skip all the comments I could make about the plane. All the Celebrahs are impressed. If The Don had Tattoo waiting in Orlando shouting, “De plane, boss”, then I’d be impressed.
Like a G6, Herve.
During the flight, a pre-recorded The Don (won’t The Apprentice Season 30 be fun when he does this by hologram?) tells the teams that their task is to create a photo “experience” and that they’ll have access to the theme parks to take photos. Wha???? They must have edited out a lot of that task description since I don’t get it. Clocking in at two hours, I didn’t think they edited out ANYTHING from these episodes. Jon makes fun of the way The Don talks with his hands.
I like to talk wif my teef.
The Don shares that Baby Don and Eric will be his advisors for this task, and they’ll be in Orlando to help judge the glorified photo booths. Back in NYC, Trace hasn’t left for his cruise yet so he has time to drop off the $670,000 check to a local Red Cross chapter. Yay for charity!
Every light in the house is … reflecting off that bald pate. Put your hat back on, you silly cowboy.
In Orlando, Omagrosa is running a team meeting and though her arrogance gives me hives, bitch is business savvy. I want an MBA from wherever she went to school. She is wicked smaht, unlike the rest of her team.
Grunt, snort, giggle.
And now begins the whining — which recurs periodically throughout the challenge — about how members of Power are scared Omagrosa is going to throw each and everyone of them under the bus in the boardroom. Well, duh! Haven’t any of you seen “A Bug’s Life” or a million other movies that prove that, when little people band together, they become much more powerful than any bully? No? Maybe Team Power is more of a “Welcome to the Dollhouse” or “Napoleon Dynamite” movie group.
Brande, three o’clock, behind the school, you get raped! Be there!
The two executives from Universal Orlando visit Team Power, and Omagrosa is appropriately douchy, even putting Rodman on the spot and asking him to make up a question to prove he’s part of the team (remember the annoying teacher everyone had who is just like this?).
Here’s a question: What do two Ambien and a Vicodin equal?
The executives also visit Plan B, but nothing interesting happens.
On to the teams “brainstorming” and building their photo booth sets, with the help of a crew of Universal set builders. The set builders are capable, kind, waaaaay too polite to handle Omagrosa’s demands and too used to following orders to give Plan B a better idea. Power decides to build 3 separate “worlds” on the 12-foot wide stand, and Li’l Jon adds the critical idea of setting up doorways between the three scenes so that it “flows”. The team is set on using Harry Potter and Despicable Me scenes as bookends, but Omagrosa hasn’t come up with an idea yet for the center scene. Plan B’s great idea? Cardboard cutouts — of themselves — wearing the same thing that they are wearing in real life. I much preferred Penn’s original “floating head” idea, but “Spidora” was shot down by Dee as completely out of context for the task.
Perhaps Dee had a point.
Team Power runs around shopping for props, and worries that Omagrosa’s going to blame them for not reading her mind and knowing which props to pick for the as-yet-to-be-determined center scene for the photo booth.
Remember, Team Power, it’s Omagrosa who needs us.
The teams run around the parks, taking pictures and gathering props. I don’t know what they’re doing, and I don’t think they do either.
NOT Universal Orlando’s next postcard
Toy, Not-That-Jordan, Jon and Brande return to Power’s room and get yelled at, obviously, for not figuring out that Omagrosa would eventually settle on Spider-Man as the centerpiece and would therefore need kick-ass props for that scene.
I’m ashamed of our failure … on the inside.
Plan B is sticking with the awful Plan Z: life-size cardboard cutouts of themselves. This only makes sense if they plan to leave the cutouts to man the “photo experience” while they all ride roller coasters.
Or molest innocent kittens.
When we come back from commercials, everyone (okay, just the fabrication guys who work for Universal) is working on the sets. Even Dennis gets in on the action. Perhaps he’s working on the wrong charity reality show.
Extreme Makeover: Rodman Edition
Plan B has a blank wall for their cardboard cutouts to rest upon, not the 3-D set and fancy logo they want to display the next day. Dee’s not worried that they’re a little behind schedule. I can’t say the same about the girls …
Are there any letters after Z? What comes after Plan Z?
The next day, the fruits of the fabrication elves’ labor (they obviously worked all night) is apparent as the teams visit their installations at their designated spots. The energy is stressful at Power while Omagrosa barks out commands and micromanages all the finishing touches to the Power booth, while over at Plan B, Penn is still questioning the logic of having cardboard cutouts when the same people are there in the flesh.
I’m confused … the Sorting Hat chose Spidora! Umm … are you sure you don’t want to take a picture with my cardboard cutout instead?
As the public starts approaching these photo “experiences”, things get even weirder. Dennis has an umbrella; he certainly doesn’t want a tan, now does he? Marilu tries to elevate the experience of the confused people hugging cardboard cutouts by telling them this is all about making memories, and she should know about memories: she has HSAM. In case you fell down the rabbit hole and didn’t hear any of Marilu’s sideshow barker memory game (pathetic and desperate, in my opinion), HSAM stands for Highly Superior Autobiographical Memory, aka Hella Stupid Arrogant Muthafucka. And yes, I’m wicked jealous she has that ability and I don’t.
Shrek just wants to go back to his swamp, where there’s no memory chitchat.
Gary Busey drives quickly through all 12 stages of creepy uncle by tickling various picture victims in the ribs as they pose with him. I think that’s third-degree sexual assault.
I’m a tickle monster!