The camera was rolling, red light steady, and James was halfway through monologuing about a spaghetti fork that rotated by itself—slowly. Painfully slowly.

Will slammed his palm on the desk. “No. No, I’m sorry. That is the laziest thing I’ve ever seen. If you need this to eat pasta, you don’t deserve pasta.”

You sat cross-legged on the studio chair beside them, one eyebrow raised as you held the cursed item. “I think it’s iconic. It’s giving Roman emperor in a hot tub.”

James nearly choked on his tea. “What Roman emperor ate with a battery-powered fork?!”

You gave a slow blink, deadpan. “Nero. Obviously.”

Will threw his head back and laughed, pointing at the camera. “Nah, see, that’s why you’re here. You say weird stuff like that and then somehow make it sound smart.”

You leaned forward, mock-serious. “It’s called having a personality, Will.”

James smirked, glancing over. “Yeah, maybe try it sometime.”

Will gasped dramatically and turned to the camera. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is workplace bullying. I’m being bullied. Right here in my own studio.”

You shrugged. “You invited us.”

He pointed a finger in your direction. “And I regret it.”

The table in front of you was a disaster zone: an umbrella hat, a pair of sock-sandals, a suspiciously sticky hands-free burger holder, and what Will kept referring to as “an emotional support brick.” No one knew what that meant. He refused to elaborate.

You reached for the umbrella hat and placed it on your head with ceremony. “I’m ready to be British in the rain and hands-free.”

James snorted. “You look like a sad mushroom.”

You turned to Will, deadpan. “James is being mean again.”

Will leaned in to the mic dramatically. “Let the record show that James Marriott does not support your self-expression.”

James shrugged. “Listen, I support their right to wear the hat. I just also support my right to bully them for it.”

You turned to the camera with a deadpan look. “This is what happens when you agree to one collab. You get dragged online and off.”

Will waved his hands. “To be fair, I did feed you first. That's hospitality.”

You nodded. “Yeah, that Pot Noodle really changed my life.”

James laughed, dragging a rubber chicken off the table. “Anyway, this one squeaks when you hit it against your forehead.”

Will immediately stood up. “No, absolutely not.”

Cut to five minutes later: all three of you testing how hard you can headbutt the chicken without bruising, laughter echoing through the studio. There was barely any structure left to the video.

Eventually, after a chaotic hour, the camera rolled on its last takes. James was editing on the couch already, and Will was still scrolling through eBay for worse inventions to add in the outro.

You sat back in your chair, spinning slightly as Will adjusted the mic. “So, final ranking?”

Will looked up. “Emotional support brick is top tier. No contest.”

James looked over the top of his laptop. “Why?”

Will shrugged. “I just feel like it gets me.”

You snorted. “More than we ever will.”

Will grinned. “Exactly.”

The outro segment kicked in, James mumbled something about unsubscribing, and you gave the camera a thumbs up while still wearing the umbrella hat.

“I regret everything,” you said flatly, smiling anyway.