From Entertainment Weekly:
The dismissal of Tiny Terror! (Whitney Pastorek also alluded to "Wonder Boy Andy" and "Increasingly Indignant Kevin.") Some highlights:
For weeks we've been lamenting the way this show has gone to the dogs, and so of course the only thing more ridiculous than Maria's winning the fashion mission and then donning that revolting motorcycle jacket and shorts with stilettos would be for this episode to revolve, quite literally, around canines.
...in a move I find completely consistent with the tone of this season — [Trump] asked PMs Wes and Jen M. not to choose the people they wanted on their teams but rather to get rid of the people they didn't like. Perfect! Such relationship-building techniques, Donald!
Wes sent away Raj...Chris (who had my favorite line tonight, by the way, when he declared that he'd been an entrepreneur ''since he was 11.'' Dude, who isn't an entrepreneur when they're 11? There's nothing to do but try to con adults out of cash), and Kevin. That's right: Wes got rid of the player, the homophobe, and the black guy. Ah, America.
And then, sometime around 6 a.m. — right after Disgusto-Raj channeled Raymond Chandler to describe Jen M. as ''analytical, calculating, and beautiful . . . a deadly combination'' — the phone rang again, and there was poor Rhona, who has to get her butt out of bed every single Thursday at an ungodly hour to wake these fools up (do you think she secretly resents Robin for getting the prime-time slot?
So a dumb mission descended into chaos, because on reality television shows, ''do something'' invariably means ''makeovers!'' Too-vigorously-washed dogs made awful noises. So did Stacy. Potential lawsuits between NBC and crazy New York dog-run patrons abounded.
[Stacy] contributed quite literally nothing to the team this week, except the potential that she might actually get mistaken for a treat and eaten by an overzealous golden retriever....Finally, finally finally finally finally that little yapping Smurf of a girl didn't have anyone else to blame. After Alan had some sort of Nam flashback regarding Andy's loss of the phone and how it related to munitions and the breakdown of communication systems during military maneuvers or something (total downer, Alan!), Carolyn told Stacy to take some freakin' responsibility, and Trump fired her without remorse, and my darling Al, God bless her, yelled out, ''Cry, little girl, cry!!!!!''
And so off went Ms. Blabbermouth von Tinkerbell McMini-Me, the Loudest Snack Cake Ever Made (sorry. Had to get that all out. She's not coming back, people) (wait. I thought that about Omarosa, too. Crap), dragging her giant suitcase behind her, and all the happy people on my living-room couch sang a joyous tune of glee.