{F/X and editing shots: a quick series of images, showing successful people doing various things all around the country. Just the usual stuff. Playing games. Building houses. Modeling bikinis. They're all saying things, but their words are drowned out by the constant backbeat of their thoughts (brought to you by Burnett Confessovision (pat. pending)), providing the true translation. 'I can be the DAW. Be the DAW. I am the DAW. I am the only DAW. There will be no DAWii. I am the DAW...}
{A few seconds of this, played out on seven-eighths of the television because Deal or no deal, the slowest-moving show on the planet, will not get off the air, and we finally go to full screen and a car driving across a runway, heading for a jet. Both the car and the jet are clearly very expensive and highly engineered. In fact, they're so highly engineered that it takes fifty technicians per mile to keep their ultra-expensive parts fine-tuned enough to actually work. After several breaks for repairs and a three-day delay to open a new shaft in the only mine on Earth that can provide material for the sparkplugs, the car finally reaches the jet, and the driver gets out. He looks very familiar. And very annoyed. Mostly annoyed.}
Donald: 'Hello. My name is Donald Trump, and I am sick of suffering for you people. I just got back from dealing with Howie Mandel and his stupid bear-hugging contestants. It's a show that takes no skill, no brains, and no talent to get on, and I'm this close to saying the same thing about the host, except that I already used those exact words for Martha and I hate to repeat myself. Plus I know some of you have been saying that about my show, and I have no intention of repeating you. I went on that show to remind you I was here. And successful. And not Martha. And what did I get? Hugged by a sweaty SWAT officer while twice the number of you who watched my show about intelligence, charisma, and education completely failing to get anywhere went and talked about a series where none of those things even have a chance to fall apart! If it wasn't for my firing fetish and massive need to be in the public eye, I'd get rid of you all right now. The most loyal one of you might even be the summarizer, and I happen to know I was blown off last night so this unspeakable (censored) could go attend a show, possibly even at a casino that wasn't mine! Haven't I done my best for you people? Don't I bring you the morons you love so much? Remember Sam? Remember Voldemort? Those were good times, weren't they? Can't you have a little faith in my ability to bring you another crop of idiots, especially since I'll pretend to have hand-picked them again?'
{The camera moves slightly from side to side, as if shaking its head.}
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Donald: 'Go back to hell, Burnett.' {DONALD climbs onto the jet, which takes off eight seconds and six million dollars later.} 'Well, I'm still going to try again, because I did five thousand guest appearances in other people's promos this week and it's not going to be for nothing. Because I'm looking for talent. Because I'm looking for skill. Because I'm looking to fire seventeen people, and this time, I may get rid of an entire minicorp at once. But most of all, because a certain person who seems to delight in killing reality shows can't take me out, and to use a certain word I know that person is familiar with, suffer. Roll my opening credits. And make sure it hurts.'
{The opening credits roll. It hurts muchly.}
{We get the usual Gathering Of The Idiots shots as the contestants make their way to and through Manhattan -- which they immediately have to leave again: DONALD's jet is touching down at Republic Airport (and kicking up an impressive amount of air pollution for something that gets two inches to the gallon): he's going to meet them on the jet itself. GEORGE and CAROLYN lead the candidates onto the runway. Sadly, the jet has already stopped moving, so our DAWs board DONALD's airborne bordello and spend a few minutes trying to figure out how to get comfortable on cushions with the price (and give, and composition) of platinum. They have to wait because DONALD's on the phone.}
Donald: 'Hi. I'm calling from the plane. I just landed. I have to meet the contestants and I'll be there in about an hour -- would someone turn down this dial tone? It's starting to hurt my ears.'
{Eventually, DONALD emerges. The contestants bow their heads in deep respect and -- genuflect, genuflect, genuflect!}
Donald: 'Very impressive. You know, looking at all of you like this, I could almost make up my mind right now -- actually -- hey -- there it is! Okay, I'll let you know what I've decided in about three months. Now, look around at this jet. Isn't it nice? Isn't it sweet? Wouldn't you say my collection's complete? Wouldn't you say I'm the boy -- the boy who has everything? Well, you could have everything too someday, except for the things that belong to me, which is nearly everything, so you're in trouble already. This isn't just a reality show and means of satisfying my insatiable need to crush people's dreams, which is making me think of Martha again for no apparent reason. I'm going to make business people out of you, since it's become so clear that practically none of you know anything when you first show up. Or when you leave. Or at all. What idiot pretended to hand-pick you again? Anyway, if I teach you enough, you'll make people, you'll break people, and you'll discover that the later is a lot more fun. But you won't break me, or I'll kill you. Now get off my jet: you're lowering the value of the imported air.'
{The contestants evacuate as TAREK, whom we'll meet shortly, gets the first confessional-tell by saying that the jet showed him what it's like to work for the Trump Dynasty and motivated him to be the last man standing. So now we know a woman's going to win this season. There, that was easy. (By the way, TAREK, do you know the interesting thing about dynasties? If they decide you're not good enough to marry into one, they cut your head off.) Everyone arranges themselves on the runway. DONALD surveys the troops.}
Donald (exact quote): 'It's very, very windy out here today, which at least proves that I have real hair.' {In fact, for the first time in -- well, ever -- DONALD's hair is moving in the breeze. Looks like they finally got the joints installed!} (paraphrase) 'In case you haven't been formally introduced, this is George, this is Carolyn, and you are screwed. But despite my heavy involvement in your selection, I have no idea how you're screwed. Why don't you tell me a little something about yourselves, just to give me a few leads?'