Props to Nad and Christine.
Fade up on a stock-footage shot of a remote-looking island -- a shot used in every television show and movie indicating travel to remote islands, ranging from The Bachelorette to Cast Away to If You Catch My Drift: Getting To Know Your Downtown Pangaea. We montage to an aerial shot of sweet, sweet civilization, past a dock replete with boats and other dock-related ephemera, and into "Le Meridien," the luxuriously product-placed resort for a discerning audience that loves fun in the sun, beachfront relaxation, and the perma-daytime effects of twelve camera crews blaring constantly in your face because you accidentally booked your honeymoon at the same resort as a fame-whoring Miami Heat dancer who is apparently experiencing her fifteen minutes in the time-space continuum that exists on Pluto, where one year takes 248.5 Earth years, so fifteen minutes there takes...some extremely long period of time. (That's right. Pangaea and Pluto. I'm just trying to ensure that if Trista should accidentally stumble across this recap while Googling herself one late, lonely night, she won't think this is actually about her. Sssssshhhhh...Trista's coming.)
Like the most awkward moments of the Seventh-Grade Dance at a suburban junior high school, the boys' camp and the girls' camp of the wedding party walk separately on a beach. In a confessional, a blonde named Sara tells us, "This is, hands down, a dream bachelor and bachelorette weekend. We are in the Caribbean with this blue water and the sunshine." Below her name on the subtitle is her trade: "Maid of Honor/Trista's Jr. High Friend." She's a maid of honor! He's our returning champion! I mean, is there a way to be more reductive of poor Sara than referring to her that way? Though I guess it's still a more honest portrayal of the character she's here to play than when they continually insisted on referring to Trista as a "physical therapist" long after she got out of the old "helping people who aren't herself" game.
The boys and girls meet in the middle of a sandy beach spot (without even the social lubricant of a DJ playing "Eternal Flame," which is so often what brought together the boys and the girls at the aforementioned Seventh-Grade Dance), hugging and drinking and drinking and yech. And speaking of yech, a confessional comes compliments of Russ, "Cast Member -- The Bachelorette" (and definitely not our returning champion), whose backwards dirty white cap speaks volumes more about his personality than anything he actually says, when he says, "I was really excited to come down here and meet Trista and Ryan's friends, and they accepted us with open arms." Hands off the ladies, you monster. I'll bet you a thousand dollars that, turned around, that hat reads "Cocks" across the front. It would be utterly appropriate, and for more reasons than one. Either that, or it's from Tiffany.