Trip to the spa. Pink robes. Expensive gift bags. Lavish presents. Massages. I know that watching television is supposed to be about wish fulfillment to a certain extent, but it sure is hard to undertake an exercise in wish fulfillment when my wish is that I were no longer alive.
The men, meanwhile, hate pink, massages, and not looking like the frat boys they prove they aren't when they won't look at hot, skanky strippers in catsuits. You guys? Any dude cred you had was so exceedingly blown last week you might as well just put on the pink robes, enjoy a pedicure, partake in a pillow fight, and write mean things about each other in your slam books. ("Ben looks like he was named after the rat he so closely resembles from the song about the rat named Ben!" "Pete's head is shaped like a rhombus!") Instead, the last-ditch efforts of the faulty Y-chromosome make one more dire pitch for supremacy, as Ryan and the boys march onto a basketball court with the backwards baseball caps and the ripped tank tops. Only Trista's feminized-by-his- nine-wives-and- sixteen-daughters father seems unable or unwilling even to try; he's tucked his shirt into his khaki shorts, and I believe his belt may even be braided. Charlie goes flying after them with his microphone and tries another round of interviews. We learn that Ryan's gift to his groomal party is in the form of a mountain bag (whatever that is, but it's black, because that is the grimy color of dirt and men!), some ski passes, and a watch. Charlie, crack journalistic skills honed as an embed in the First Acting-Like-Infants Infantry division during the gory Bachelorette Wars, surveys his situation and brilliantly thinks to ask Chris, "So, what are you guys gonna do today? You gonna play some basketball?" I'm just gonna leave that one riiiiiight there.
It's later, suddenly. Back in the Groomal Suite, Ryan's father is sitting in deep focus on a couch with his son. Charlie, foreground (for isn't he the most important part of this sequence, really?), whispers into his microphone like he's finally found his calling as "The Password Whisperer" (the password is "booby prize"), tells us, "Ryan's father just grabbed him to sit down on the couch. I think he's going to give him a little advice." He implores us to "listen in." Yes, let's. Over on the couch, Ryan's dad is all, "Okay, son, on your wedding night you might feel a little bit nervous. Now, women are different, y'know, cough, 'down there' than you and your dad, so, erm, well...in the world, son, there are birds and there are bees." Don't worry, Papa Sutter. A girl in a catsuit already gave him this lesson.