The 2 Broke Girls soundstage was packed.
Three hundred audience members filled the seats, buzzing with energy. Lights were set, cameras were rolling, and the director sat behind the monitors with his headset on.
"Five minutes, everybody," he said into the mic. "Today's big moment is Han Lee's return. The audience doesn't know Cassius is showing up, so their first reaction is gold. Camera team—tight close-up the second he walks through that door."
In the makeup room, Cassius was already in Han's signature outfit. The stylist gave his hair one last tweak.
Kat walked in wearing Max's usual low-cut uniform, script in hand. "Nervous? It's been a while since you've been on this stage."
"What's there to be nervous about?" Cassius said, completely relaxed. "Not my first time."
"Twitter's been losing its mind. Everyone thought your schedule was too packed for Season 3. The audience tonight has no idea you're here—they're gonna lose it. This is going straight to trending."
Cassius checked the clock.
His entrance was scheduled a few minutes into the taping. Max and Caroline would do a short scene first, then he'd walk in for the big surprise.
"Places, everyone!" the director called.
At 7:10 p.m., the taping began.
The house lights dimmed. The stage lights came up on the familiar Williamsburg diner set—slightly rundown but cozy.
Beth, as Caroline, walked on first in a pink business suit, calculator in hand. "If we sell a hundred cupcakes a day at $3.50 each, minus costs—"
The audience chuckled. Classic Caroline—always doing the math.
Kat stepped out of the kitchen holding a coffee cup, face full of disdain. "Still trying to math your way to riches? Give it up. Last week we sold seventeen cupcakes—and three of those I bought myself to feed the rats."
"That's a marketing problem!" Caroline shot back. "We need better branding—"
The two of them bounced off each other perfectly, the audience laughing in all the right places.
Five minutes in, the director nodded behind the monitors. The crowd was warmed up. Time.
In the script, Max and Caroline were arguing about whether to buy a new oven. Then Han would suddenly walk in.
The floor director gave the audience a quiet signal: big moment coming—stay quiet.
On stage, the argument hit its peak. "A new oven costs eight hundred dollars! Where are we supposed to get that kind of money?" Max yelled.
"We can get a loan or find investors!" Caroline insisted.
"Investors? Who's gonna give two broke waitresses money to sell cupcakes?"
Right then, the little bell above the diner door jingled.
The audience hadn't even registered the sound yet.
The door opened.
Cassius walked in wearing Han's familiar shirt, carrying a plastic bag with lettering. He looked at the two women with a straight face and said, "Did I just hear someone say they need investors?"
The studio went dead silent for three full seconds.
Then someone whispered, "Is that… Cassius?"
"Cassius! Han Lee!"
"Oh my God, he's really back!"
The applause and cheers hit like a bomb. Half the audience shot to their feet. Some were filming with their phones, others were whistling. The noise was so loud the director had to grab his mic. "Folks, please sit down! We're still recording!"
Cassius stood on stage, smiling at the crowd, and gave a small wave. That only made them cheer louder.
Kat rolled her eyes on cue. "Really? It's just the boss coming back."
Beth jumped in. "Max, looks like our investor problem is solved—if he can even hear us over all that screaming."
The audience roared with laughter.
The director, loving the energy, called out, "Keep rolling!"
The scene flowed naturally from there.
Cassius walked behind the counter, set the plastic bag down, and started pulling out takeout containers. "My mom made these for you two. She says it's not good for young women to live on takeout all the time."
Caroline's eyes went wide. "Han, did you just say… investor?"
Cassius opened one of the containers—perfectly arranged dumplings and spring rolls. "I can invest in your cupcake business, but there's a condition."
"What condition?" Max asked warily.
"I'm redoing this restaurant," Cassius said, looking around. "The feng shui is terrible. The door faces the bathroom—money's just flushing away. The stove in the kitchen is in the wrong spot too. Fire conquers metal. No wonder you can't make any money."
The audience howled.
This was pure Han Lee—Eastern mysticism delivered with total seriousness.
Cassius kept a straight face. "It's like your horoscopes, but more accurate. For example, you shouldn't make any big investments this month."
He pointed at Caroline. "Gemini. Mercury in retrograde."
Max: "What about me? I'm a Sagittarius. What should I do?"
"Close your mouth and let me finish."
The audience was in stitches.
Cassius improvised a few more lines that landed perfectly. He suggested turning the diner into a "Lucky Cookie" Chinese-American spot that sold General Tso's chicken-flavored cupcakes. He wanted a waving lucky cat by the register—but it had to be the electric version that actually moves its paw. And he proposed adding a "Cass Family Fried Rice" to the menu that was really just leftover rice with soy sauce.
Every line was delivered with a deadpan expression, the ridiculous ideas clashing with his serious delivery for maximum comedy.
The taping ran for forty minutes before that scene finally wrapped.
When the director called "Cut," the audience gave another round of applause.
During the break, people were still buzzing. Cassius could hear them talking:
"I can't believe Cassius showed up today!"
"Han Lee is still hilarious. That feng shui bit killed me."
"Did you see the lettering on his shirt? 'Lucky cookies are always right.' I need one of those."
Fifteen minutes later, taping resumed.
Cassius was looser now after seeing the fans. His performance felt even sharper.
In one scene he tried teaching Max and Caroline his "business philosophy." The script had a few lines about harmony and "the customer is always right," but Cassius added a new bit on the spot.
"In America, waiters ask how your day is going. In a restaurant, the owner just tells you, 'If you can't finish it, order less next time.'"
The director laughed so hard behind the monitors he almost fell out of his chair.
After wrapping that scene, Kat walked over during the break. "You're on fire today. Where are all these ad-libs coming from?"
"Just thinking on my feet," Cassius said, taking a sip of water. "Though spicy chocolate cupcakes actually exist."
"You're impossible," Kat rolled her eyes. "Now I can't stop picturing them."
They were still chatting when Cassius's phone buzzed.
It was a text from Rob: "Nolan's team just sent the final training schedule. Starting next week, every Tuesday and Thursday you're at the training facility."
Cassius replied with a quick "Got it."
He turned back to Kat. "You got a tight schedule coming up?"
"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I start Nolan training next week, so some taping days might need shifting."
"No problem," Kat said easily. "The director already planned for it. Your scenes are front-loaded in the first few episodes. If you get busy later, we'll shoot around you."
That was the upside of being a big name now. They bent the schedule for him instead of the other way around.
By six o'clock that evening, the day's taping was done.
When Cassius left the stage, there were still dozens of fans waiting outside the studio doors.
He didn't stop this time—Kat was riding shotgun in his black Dodge Challenger.
The muscle car rumbled out of the lot and disappeared into the Los Angeles evening traffic.