Holland is talking like this is a done deal, but Lionel's sweaty palms say otherwise. He mumbles something about how he hasn't even asked yet, but it's said quietly and into his cup, so it might go unheard.

"Do you have a costume idea for yourself?" he asks, lowering his drink. Perhaps hearing Holland's will give him an idea for his. Something better than a sports coat and his tie with planets on it. He knows his audience well enough not to admit that's the current leader in the clubhouse.