We’re back. No recap last week. But the two key items were Stephen Baldwin trying to resign and then switching teams, and then Trump firing Nely because she’s not famous. Which brings up an important note:
This is not The Apprentice.
The Apprentice is, at least in theory, about winning and losing, about being a leader within the team, about the pressure of being the Project Manager, about arguing articulately in the boardroom, about getting on Trump’s good side, and about fighting for a career break.
The Celebrity Apprentice is about none of these things. The Celebrity Apprentice is about watching celebrities interact with each other, call their famous friends, and get in fights– all under the umbrella of giving to charity.
The Apprentice at least attempted to project the image of integrity– the show did its best to actually get rid of people in an order that made sense to the story and that seemed to reflect the relative abilities of the candidates. The Celebrity Apprentice has thrown integrity out the window entirely, and openly. The Apprentice was about a vicious battle with 17 other Type-AAA personalities. On The Celebrity Apprentice, we’re averaging about one resignation per week.
Now, does this mean I’m not thoroughly enjoying The Celebrity Apprentice? Not at all. In fact, I’m kind of obsessed with it. It’s just an entirely different show– kind of like The Surreal Life with a bit more dignity because of the charitable element.
Which brings up another point– the charity element is brilliant, because it solves every celebrity problem. In reality, every one of these people is on the show because they want to be more famous. These are not A-list celebrities. Not even close. Being able to say, “I’m only here because I care about my charity” allows them to try to get more famous behind a curtain of dignity. Further, tasks naturally get extremely competitive, and to prevent celebrities from pretending they don’t really care who wins in order to seem bigger than the whole thing, the charity aspect allows the candidates to unabashedly immerse themselves in these silly tasks under the “I’m getting really competitive about this task because I care about my charity” umbrella.
Now let’s be clear– I’m not for a second suggesting that these people are not whole-heartedly passionate about their respective charities. It’s clear that that much is real. But the grand prize is $250,000 for the winner’s charity, and others will win $50,000 here and there along the way. So in reality, if they give away $50,000 a week and $250,000 at the end, that’s about $1 million total for 14 charities, meaning each charity will get on average about $70,000. Could anyone argue that going on a reality show for six weeks is the best way for a semi-celebrity to raise $70,000? Of course not. And sure, some people will raise more– and sure, awareness is being built for all the charities– but let’s be realistic.
Regardless, I like what they’re doing. This season would have been stupid under the normal Apprentice rules– on this season, no one cares who the Project Manager is, and no one really cares whose fault the loss was. So I’m glad Trump isn’t pretending to care either.
Which brings up one last point– the fact that Trump is kind of pointless. Think about this. It’s like a competitive version of the Surreal Life (which I’ve never actually seen) centered around charity, except for some reason Donald Trump is involved and he throws someone off the show each week based mostly on who is the most unfamous person. Why Trump? What does he have to do with this? It used to make sense, since in theory the winner would get a sweet job with Trump, and he was going to be the future boss of one of the candidates– so of course he’d be the ultimate judge of the candidates’ character, smarts, and leadership.
Now? He’s a pretty random part of the show. It’s great to watch– Trump basically chats with the candidates in the boardroom, and then kicks off the least famous person, but still has to say, “You’re fired!” and put his finger out. It’s like a whole different show, but then he still says, “You’re fired!” for some reason.
In any case, I’m hooked.
Onto Episode 7–
We start with Piers sitting incredibly smugly in the suite while the girls fight in the boardroom. He gloats about how sweet it was to see Omarosa and Stephen go down. I cannot figure out my opinion on this guy.
He is despicable. Petty, small, mean, and smug. Jealous, insecure, vengeful, and ruthless. Solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short. Completely despicable.
And yet. He’s also witty up the wazoo, endearingly self-deprecating at times, and most importantly– he’s often the only voice of reason of the bunch. When Stephen Baldwin is pulling his bullshit pious act, Piers calls him out on it. When Vinnie loses his mind mid-task, Piers confronts him about it. When Omarosa is a massive c*nt, trying to act likable, he relentlessly exposes her true colors.
He hates all the right people, and I’m thankful that he’s there to hate them so they can’t get away with their bullshit.
So I despise him, and love him deeply. It’s like watching a loathsome bully beat up the guy who’s dating your ex-girlfriend.
Anyway, Piers interviews, “Omarosa is one of the most venomous poisons I have encountered in 25 years of business.” See? I’m happy he said that. I agree completely, and I’m happy someone is around to actually say it. Then, also in character, he goes one level further– one level too far in my mind– interviewing, “She’s such a pointless, irrelevant, ghastly little creature.”
Omarosa is 1-5 on the season and 0-2 as a PM, and interviews that she’s in complete control of her team. Why? Why can’t she just be humble, and human, and say, “This is so frustrating! I don’t know what’s gotta change, but something’s gotta change. This continual losing is depressing.” You know that’s what she’s thinking, so why put on this overconfident, smug act? In Likable 101 they teach you about being genuine and acknowledging your struggle. Unfortunately, Omarosa took Unlikable 101, where they teach you to act condescending, scheming, and arrogant, especially in the face of personal failure.
Piers comments about how he’d rather be shot than be on the women’s team. Then the phone rings, and Trump calls them all to an unexpected boardroom session. I think we can all see where this is going.
So Trump switches the teams, and they actually insult us with a suspenseful commercial break before we find out if Piers will be on a team with Omarosa or not.
So we have the perfect storm– Piers and Omarosa. Why is it the perfect storm? Because they’re both the type of people who give low blows when they’re angry, who absolutely need to have the last laugh, who take ruthless vengeance when talked down to, and who would rather die than show weakness on camera.
Trump asks Omarosa if she’s excited to work with Piers, and she replies that she’s “worked with scums before.” Piers looks hurt, and responds quietly, “That says everything I need to know.” And Omarosa’s in big trouble. As we can see from this interaction, the big difference is that Piers is cleverer than Omarosa is– he knows that he can subtly push her buttons and that she won’t be able to control herself, and then he can do an about-face and play the bigger man and the victim.
Trump announces the task– selling horse-carriage rides or something. As I mentioned, the actual task isn’t really that important a part of this show.
In the Trace, Baldwin, Tito, Marilu war room, Trace takes the role of Project Manager, and tells us about his daughter’s severe food allergies, and about his charity for that cause. As usual, he is intensely manly and lovable. Since this is The Celebrity Apprentice, they start making calls to their contacts, and everyone seems to be getting along swimmingly.
In the Piers, Lennox, Carol, Omarosa war room, Piers is PM. Piers declares to Omarosa a “cessation of all hostilities till the end of this task.” Too bad– I was looking forward to some drama.
Piers immediately picks an implicit fight with Omarosa by announcing that should they lose, he will simply bring to the boardroom the people who raise the least amount of money, knowing that Omarosa would have the hardest time raising money of the four of them because of her relative lack of rich contacts. That said, this is a good PM tactic in general, for obvious motivational reasons.
In the van, the Cessation of Hostilities hits a snag as Omarosa spells Piers’ name incorrectly. Piers is hugely dickish about this. Say what you want about the rest of the episode, but Piers started it.
They squabble about whether Piers is the boss or the manager, and Omarosa crumples the paper up and throws it in his face. Man does that woman have a temper. Piers calls her childish, exacerbating her anger while keeping his own cool.
Now this is the turning point– Omarosa has a temper and has no ability to play the bigger man in any situation. At this point in the episode, Piers is the asshole, not her, and everyone can see it. She could have played the victim, she could have ignored him, she could have stood up for herself in a reasonably classy way– any of these and she would have been a sympathetic character. But because Omarosa is Omarosa, she will always find a way to be loathsome, even against a huge asshole like Piers. She needs to win the fight, except winning would have been any of those above tactics I mentioned, not what she proceeds to do– to hit below the belt. Way below the belt. That is the only way Piers could have ended up as the sympathetic character here, and she managed to pull it off (in general, the type of person I respect least in the world is the type that hits below the belt when someone angers them– it is, in my opinion, the lowest quality a person can have).
She starts: “The mother of your children hates you, Piers. And your children hate you. They’re embarrassed by you.” Imagine anyone else on the show going there. Think about all of your friends– would any of them, in this position, go there? (If you can think of someone who would, and this is a close personal friend, you may want to rethink things.) The only person on this show who I can picture sinking to this level is Piers himself– but he’s way too smart to do that on national television. Instead, he’s a master at pushing sensitive buttons in disguise.
So when Piers calls Omarosa “a disgusting little tramp,” there is suddenly not one viewer that can feel bad for her. Any potential sympathy she might have had coming is completely gone, and at this point I found myself rooting for Piers to be as mean to her as possible. Lovely lady, that Omarosa.
The worst part is that Omarosa is not even quick enough to have any good comebacks for Piers, so she keeps going with the family insults, because it’s all she’s got. If you’re going to be a wretched person, you can at least be witty about it for god’s sake.
They arrive, and Piers and Lennox exit the van, leaving Omarosa and Carol. Carol is smiling awkwardly, and Omarosa looks at her and says, “Ahh, that was so refreshing.” Carol is like, “But seriously, I can’t stress enough how much I’m not getting involved in this.” (Although she’s probably secretly amused. I would be.)
We move to the other team, where they skip through a meadow happily, as the perfect picture of wonder, light, candies, and freedom. I really enjoy editors sometimes. I’m sure the team did get along well. But to stress the contrast, they edit them to look as happy and functional as four people can possibly be. Good times.
Marilu mentions how great it is to be working with guys. “It’s a different energy!” she exclaims gleefully. This is a theme on The Apprentice. Both Angela and Marisa from my season mentioned how much they wished they could be on the guys’ team. This is not a guy thing– it’s a girl thing. Girls in close quarters together always end up with girl tension of some kind or another, and I find it amusing to watch a girl switch to a team of guys and bask in the lack of drama around them. Thank god for girl drama, in general. So amusing and entertaining.
Back to the fun team, we have a new theme: Piers has “fired” Omarosa, and is telling her to go away, and Omarosa is irate, belligerently getting in his face with, “Back the f*** up, I ain’t going nowhere, son!” and “Manage your team, wimp!” What phenomenal TV.
Meanwhile, Billy Baldwin has shown up, the one from Backdraft.
Piers decides to stop filling carriages and save them for the big donors. This makes sense– if someone comes and pays $5,000, that’s a hundred $50 rides. Omarosa ignores Piers here and continues to sell the rides to small customers, and when he tells her to stop, she starts in again about his children. Lewis interviews that Omarosa is “venomous,” “mean,” “nasty,” and “ghetto.”
Next, Jenna Jameson, who’s dating Tito, shows up, and they take a romantic carriage ride together. Doesn’t get much more heartwarming than a pornstar and a UFC fighter strolling through Central Park.
On the other side, Ivanka shows up, and Omarosa tells her that she’s just trying her best to help out the team, just trying to “make sure that Lennox and Carol and even Piers are supported.” What a teammate!
Across the way, some country star named John Rich shows up with $5,000 in cash, and then interviews that they “don’t call [him] John Rich for nothing!” Charming.
And Piers and Omarosa continue. He keeps pushing her buttons, and she keeps taking the bait. She starts with, “You’re gonna go down as the worst Project Manager in the history of this game,” and continues with, “Is there another man raising your children?” She’s so out of control that her face is twitching when she’s talking. It’s quite a sight.
And into the boardroom we go.
In reality, as low as it was, Omarosa was criticizing Piers for being a bad father all day. But Piers wisely spins it that she was “going after his kids.” Which is a big difference. But at this point, I’m completely and utterly rooting for Piers in this battle. Here’s how it went down:
Trump: Piers, are you and Omarosa finally friends?
Piers: She is mud.
Omarosa: I am not mud. Piers is mud. He fought with Stephen, Vinnie, and now me. And in me, he’s finally met his match.
Piers: My hatred is thick and soupy.
Trump: Lennox, what do you think?
Lewis: Well, I fought with Tyson, and this was worse. How awesome is it that for the rest of my life, I can pull out, “I fought with Tyson…” and “I fought with Holyfield…” and such?
Piers: I love my family more than anything, and Omarosa’s dumb f***ing face trashed them all day. I’m half playing the victim right now to best defeat Omarosa, and I’m half genuinely upset and furious that that bitch kept bringing up the fact that my kids do actually hate me.
Omarosa: I didn’t trash your family, I trashed your muddy head.
Piers: She tried to kill my family.
Omarosa: I’ll do the smug chuckle. I react to adversity of any kind by acting smug.
Piers: I will not work with her anymore under any circumstances.
Trump: Lennox, it does remind me of your fight with Tyson. I may have actually watched the fight, I may not have. Tim’s not sure.
Piers: It is like that, because Lennox punched Tyson in the face the same way I want to punch Omarosa in the face for killing my grandmother. If she had been a man, I would have punched her mad hard, with my British fists.
Omarosa: It’s not just me. Vinnie and Baldwin killed his grandmother too.
Piers: They never killed my grandmother. Only you did that. Stephen would never do that.
Trump: Is that true, Stephen? Would you kill his grandmother?
Stephen: I cannot possibly express how happy I am to watch Piers suffer. I’m too dumb to listen and realize that Omarosa is so horrific she actually makes Piers a sympathetic character, so I’ll take Omarosa’s side here.
Piers: Dammit, Stephen, you’re mad dumb. Mr. Trump, Omarosa raped my wife.
Trump: Is that true, Omarosa? Did you rape Piers’ wife?
Omarosa: No. Piers is just upset because he’s finally met his match.
Piers: Met my match, you wh*re? You don’t outmatch someone by throwing low blows. Everyone knows that. Low blows is what people who are small and disgusting do precisely when they’re outmatched. F***ing dumb bitch.
Trump: Trace, you must just be licking your chops over there.
Trace: I am mad classy, and I’m way too big a person to be happy watching these two go at it. Most people in this room are secretly loving this, but not me.
Ivanka: 788-534-8991. Got it down, Trace?
Trace: My team is wonderful, and the weather is always wonderful wherever we are. This afternoon, it started to rain, but right where we were, the clouds made a little hole. You might see people when you look at my teammates. I see flowers.
Trump: Who was the star of your team?
Trace: Do roses cry?
Trump: What? Okay, let’s hear the results.
George: I can’t believe I’m still on this show. I’m 97 years old and I’m still doing this f***ing show. Ninety f***ing seven. Empressario raised $29,673.
Trump: Ivanka, how did Hydra do?
Ivanka: I almost hate to say this, but Hydra won with $35,184. I said “almost” because I’m actually quite happy to hear this result, as are all the producers. Piers and Omarosa just provided a phenomenal hour of reality television. Why would we ever want one of them off the show? Duh.
Omarosa: I’m thinking a lot of things. I can’t tell whether I’m happy about this, or not. Probably not, because Piers now looks good as Project Manager. But I was probably fired if we lost. Unless they pulled the, “Piers, you’ve fought with everyone so far” thing and fired him instead. Mixed feelings. I just don’t know. But I do know one thing– that I’ll react by putting a shit-eating grin on my face and nodding smugly. Ah, Unlikable 101, how brilliantly I absorbed you.
Marilu: Wait, what? The hell? But they were playing the “they’re gonna win” music all day every time the camera was on us.
Trump: Wow, this is mad awkward. Piers, what’s your charity?
Piers: The Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund, which helps families of soldiers who have lost their lives in battle. My brother just returned from Iraq where he was fighting. Tim is pretty surprised to hear that.
[winning team heads off to the suite to not enjoy their awkward, hollow victory]
Trump: So what the hell? Who do I fire?
Trace: Roses. Four roses.
Trump: Oh, for Christ sake I can’t fire a rose. Nely, you’re fired!
Ivanka: Nely’s gone, Dad. You already fired her.
Trump: Well someone go get her and bring her in here so I can fire her again. Or at least, have my people find out who she works for and see to it that they fire her. George, what should I do?
George: T-man, you’re kind of lame. What the f*** happened to this show? We used to be able to be mean to these people.
Trump: I know, and now I can’t. If this were another season, this would be simple. This team lost because the other team focused more on bulk sales. Which means that the PM would go since he was out-strategized by the other PM. In fact, I would make a big deal about the fact that the other PM was fighting with Omarosa the whole day and still out-strategized Trace. But since this season is much more about the personalities involved than about me or about the tasks, that’s out the window. There’s no way I’d get rid of a character as great as Trace this early. And none of these other three are as unfamous as Nely, or Jennie, or that other hot chick from week 1. So I’m stuck. Stephen, who should I fire?
Baldwin: Not the real Apprentice. So I don’t have to answer.
Trump: Yeah, this kind of sucks. Not such compelling TV I’m afraid. How bout you, Marilu?
Marilu: Yeah, same shit here. Not the real Apprentice.
Trump: How about resignation? Would any of you like to resign? For the past six seasons, I have brutally slammed the character of anyone who even thought about quitting, and now we’re averaging about a quit per week, and I’m openly asking if any of you will quit.
Empressario: We’re trying to get more famous, douchebag. None of us is going to volunteer to stop being on the TV show.
Trump: Trace?
Trace: “If I were here on my own behalf I might, but I’m not here representing myself, I’m here fighting for somebody else.”
Tim: [wiping his eyes]
Trump: This is the single hardest firing I’ve ever had. I said the same exact thing on Tim’s season, week 1, when I had to fire either Martin or Frank. Tim was in that boardroom too, rooting for Frank to be fired, and astounded by how golden the Great Golden Combover actually was in person. And since this isn’t The Apprentice anymore, I say screw it– no one’s fired. Let’s just ditch the old show altogether.
[Limo driver standing outside all alone, wearing his cap, oh so lonely without a firee to escort]
Check out Tim’s website, at www.timurban.com, where you can listen to samples of his new album, Turning Home, see pictures, and contact Tim. You can find Tim’s blog at www.timurban.blogspot.com.
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