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Lucius shows up with actual popcorn when the waterpark footage comes in.
“Get that out of here,” Olu says. “I don’t need your salty fingers all over my equipment.”
“That’s what—”
“Don’t. You’re better than that.”
“I won’t, if you please show me the rough cut, pretty pleeease?”
“This is literally your job? It’ll be ready in a few hours.”
“I cannot possibly wait that long.”
“You can actually, because you’re supposed to be shaping up the footage I sent you from yesterday.”
There’s a knock at the open door, and Wee John pokes his head in. “Is it ready?”
Olu looks at the ceiling and sighs deeply. “Anyone else?”
Frenchie peers around John. “Cheers, Olu.”
Once they’re all gathered around, Olu skips to the footage Jim had warned him was coming—Stede choosing to do the shark tank roadblock, which requires him to don the provided swimwear.
“Ho-ly DILF,” Lucius says. “I didn’t really get it before, but wow, those legs.”
Olu silently agrees as Stede strides out of the changing area in what must be the tiniest, shiniest gold lamé swim trunks in existence.
“You think I’m expected to just blind the sharks?” Stede jokes from the monitor, smoothing his hands down the shorts. Ed doesn’t reply because he is looking at Stede with an expression of dazed wonder.
“Oh my god, the sexual tension is like taffy,” Lucius says.
“Do you think Ed's having a stroke?” Frenchie whispers.
“No he’s not having a stroke!” Olu says. Then he pauses to consider. “Maybe a teensy one. But I think we’d have heard if there was some kind of major medical event. And Jim was their sound person that day, they’d definitely have said.”
“Ed, is everything all right?” Stede asks onscreen.
“Golden,” Ed says, in a strangled voice.