The next day. Nick and Amy go from a limo into the Trump jet. Trump interviews, from his apartment, that Nick and Amy will be having a great time, especially if they're "really in love." I don't think anybody has suggested "love," but...whatever. "But they'd better not use my bedroom," he adds. Heh. See? Mile-high club jokes. Everybody's doin' it. On the plane, Nick and Amy are stunned by the beautiful interiors. The paneling, the fabric on the seats...it's all quite stunning. I actually agree, and it's not nearly as tacky as, say, the Trumpartment. In fact, I'd much rather live on the plane. The pilot introduces himself to Nick and Amy and tells them that they'll be taking off soon, but that Trump has arranged for some special guests to share the plane. Amy interviews that their first thought was that maybe Trump or "some of his famous friends" would come along. Feh.
A young woman with dark hair and an older gentleman ascend the stairs onto the plane. When Amy sees them enter the cabin, she stands up and starts screaming. Oh, good grief. I understand excited, but that kind of screaming is for seven-year-olds. Stupid seven-year-olds. The smart ones are way too sophisticated for it. As it turns out, this woman jumping up and down with Amy is Amy's sister. And just behind her is Nick's dad. Ah, the family reward. Nick shakes Amy's sister's hand, and Amy hugs Nick's dad. As they settle in, Nick laughs while trying to explain to his dad that they're flying down to Florida for lunch. It does sound a bit goofy when you hear yourself say it, I suppose. The jet takes off.