The anger, though delivered on cue, is an explosion, sudden and scary. Everyone's paying attention now. "Do you think you could snap?" a casting consultant hired by Virgin says to the screen. She turns to Jason Horowitz, the supervising casting director, and asks about the "powder-keg" issue. "We let Fox and risk management weigh in," he says.

Risk management, besides a criminal background check and a physical (including testing for sexually transmitted diseases), involves several psych exams, from an IQ test to the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. If someone "loads" high on the psychopathy scale (one piece of the MMPI), or the depression scale, a red flag might go up. If, on the other hand, someone has a few issues, says Richard Levak, a psychologist who consults on "Survivor" and "Apprentice," "but have a big personality, are dying to go, have a big heart ... for many of these people, these shows really do change their life in a positive way."

Stuart, who a few moments ago was amusing, suddenly seems less so. That he first interviewed for the show the day after his father died -- a fact that was previously overlooked because of how impressively "raw" it made him -- is now pointed to as "strange." He further hurts his case when he admits that he's sick of his career and wants to be an actor. Bunim/Murray is after people who genuinely yearn to be Richard Branson's protégé, not people who want to launch a career in show business.

But Stuart's ambition clearly points to the way that reality TV has changed. Winning the game has almost become the consolation prize. The real winners of "Apprentice," surely, are Omarosa and Sam, both of whom are far more memorable than either of the two finalists, smooth runner-up Kwame and bland victor Bill. Bill may have snagged the job with Trump, but as his pretty-boy face recedes, it's Sam we remember, with that menacing death stare he gave Trump upon being fired and his Hail Mary bid on the season finale to pay Trump $250,000 to become his employee. It's Omarosa who we followed when she showed up at the Democratic National Convention in Boston (talking on a cellphone in a no-cellphones-allowed restaurant, of course), who got a police escort when she attended the NAACP convention in Philadelphia, who launched a 900 number where you can chat about her for $3.95 a minute. "They've always been there," Jon Murray says of these new celebrities. "They just haven't been on TV before."

Candida Tolentino, the last interviewee, is a raw foods chef and real-estate investor from an upper-middle-class black family. Sasha Alpert was initially struck by her sense of style (she wears a scarf tied around her neck) and a sweetness that seemed, promisingly, to conceal something more ominous. Candida has already revealed to the casting team that, contrary to what her parents believe, she's not a virgin. While describing her physician father as "a genius," she has also called him "fat," "lazy," "cold," and "kind of crazy." The day before her first interview, she jumped out of an airplane to prove she was up to Branson-style adventure.

In her interview today, she doesn't recognize several of the photographs shown to her (Ken Lay, Steve Jobs and Warren Buffett), but that doesn't bother the casting team. "She's not an MBA type," Murray says. "She's more of an entrepreneur."

When Candida sees Bush's picture, she spits: "Idiotic buffoon! Criminal!" Then she says: "I absolutely think Bush is responsible for the twin towers coming down." The interviewer pushes Candida to back up her conspiracy theory, to no avail.

"She's gorgeous!" says one of the casting team.

"She definitely has a lot of energy," Alpert says.

The interviewer says he supports Bush: "I think he's a strong leader." Candida doesn't bite. He asks about her temper, about being a vegan, about the colonics she receives. She informs the interviewer, a carnivore, that his intestines are "disgusting."

"She's just great," someone says.

"Very intelligent," Alpert adds.

In two days, the casting team will make its picks. Of those, one will reveal a previously undisclosed fact to the Fox psychologist and be bounced from the show (the show's producers will not elaborate on what happened). Rob Cieslinski, the superhero, was too vanilla in the end; other regular-white-guy finalists were funnier or darker. Shad may have been captivating, but no dice. "That's a tough person to have on a reality show," Alpert says, "because they're not being themselves." Stuart Bennett was another disappointment, a passive-aggressive would-be actor rather than a hungry aspiring entrepreneur with his heart on his sleeve. Aisha Crump makes it. And, to nobody's surprise, they like Candida Tolentino.

In her final interview, Candida proves herself ill-informed, hyperbolic, dogmatic and angry. She's also opinionated, stylish and has beautiful skin. Candida is made-for-TV, with an exoskeletal emotional life: No thought or feeling flits across her consciousness that does not also register on her face or in her gestures. She has the golden skill set. The casting team swoons. The interviewer finishes with her and comes into the room. "C'mon," he says, "could it be more obvious?" Candida, too, is in.

Four days into shooting, Sir Richard calls from London. He is taking a day off from the show; as he speaks, the cast -- which includes a former tennis pro who left the circuit to attend Yale and start a successful college business, and a fashion model looking to leave the catwalk behind -- is airborne, headed somewhere on a 13-hour flight. Sir Richard has already left three people on the tarmac. He thinks that roughly two-thirds of the cast are unlikely to be the last man or woman standing: one being 24-year-old virgin Jennifer who thinks Hong Kong is in Japan and has never heard of Capetown. "I have a funny feeling she's not going to become a great entrepreneur," Sir Richard says. He adds, charitably: "Maybe one day."

What about Aisha and Candida? "Candidly?" he asks. Then, choosing his words carefully: "One of them's tough and I suspect would be quite a taskmaster when it comes to staff, and determined." He implies that he's talking about Candida. "The other one's fun, a good little dancer, again determined, slightly more outward going, not necessarily someone who'll go a long way in business."

Sounds like neither will go the distance on the show. But who cares? Either could still become the big winner.

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