"Hi, Daddy," Trista squeaks as if she's six years old and still figuring out why she only gets to see her father on weekends and alternate Thursdays. She gives her Hawaiian-shirted (and, nice jams, by the way) father a hug as we're taken down the path of the overly serious, Trista filling us in that she's glad her father was able to come to the island and chill, seeing as he's had no other meaningful part to play in this wedding at all. And now, a completely spontaneous and not-at-all staged walk down the beach so the two of them can catch up completely. She asks him how he's doing. He says he's doing fine. He Runs With Enormous Glasses reminds us of last week, when he talked to Trista about how she wasn't including him in any of the wedding planning. Now, on the beach, He Runs With Enormous Sunglasses tells us that he hasn't seen Trista since before that phone call, and he thinks this would be an excellent opportunity to "talk openly" about these issues. Sipping from a giant peenk dreenk so adorned with fruit wedges and decorative umbrellas that it ought to come with its own chaise longue, Trista tries to take it all seriously when she asks HRWES, "You feel in the know now?" HRWES responds that all he wanted was for Trista to keep the lines of communication open, and that he feels like he can ask her anything about the planning, if not (a) participate in them or (b) be told about them or (c) buy his daughter back from the soul-selling, blood-signed contract she inked with Satan. Sure is hard to be father of the bride. Trista takes this opportunity to ask HRWES if he'll walk her down the aisle at the wedding. He says he will, and Trista tells us what a "nice moment" it was, which we learn when we see that said moment has reached a niceness level nice enough to be rendered in a slow-motion hug. How odd that, for an event taking place in the Atlantic Ocean, HRWES is kicking it with so damn much Ocean Pacific.
Back at the party, Ryan wonders exactly how this weekend will go. It turns out, he reminds us, that bachelor parties have a tendency to be "a little over the edge," blazing new narrative turf though neglecting a nation's familiarity with the cinematic canon of a young Adrian Zmed. Whatever the legacy of these famed affairs, though, Ryan promises us that he's not going to get at all crazy, and that all he wants to do is "hang out with [his] friends." With strippers. And booze. In tears.