Cut to Friday night. Pablo's lording it over the party from a prime spot on the kitchen counter. Someone wanders in and Pablo snaps, "What're you looking for? If it's liquor, it's over here." Shut up, Pablo. The party progresses and there's tons of liquor (GASP), smoking (HORROR), and snogging (what the hell is "snogging"?). Pablo's in the kitchen, taking a drag off what looks to be a cigarette, but then some girl pulls his face over and puts her lips to his and, well, we used to do that when we smoked pot, so now I'm thinking it's pot. Cut to Pablo making out with yet some other girl in a hallway. And then another one. And then we're back in the kitchen where Pablo's sucking down Everclear, and the same girl he shared the drag with is now leaning forward and kissing some other guy and I'm thinking, damn! Why didn't I go to parties like these when I was in high school? Oh, right. Because I was a loser. Silly me.
So, the rabble-rousers stay longer than Pablo expected them to (shocker), and things get out of hand when everyone leaves at once, and one really drunk girl, like, runs off because, you know, she's stupid, and they're making all this noise in a relatively quiet neighborhood, and Dr. Pablo winds up picking up the escapee and carrying her God knows where and, well, you can guess what happens next.
Pablo Goes To Prison.
Okay, so he spends the night in jail. I think. All I know is, the segment ends with Pablo carting the blithering drunk girl off and the next thing you know, it's the next day (or the next week or the next millennium -- who really cares?). So, anyway, Pablo's mom and Mini-Pablo pick Pablo up from the Highland Park police station, and the only thing he can say in his voice-over is, "It was stupid that we got caught. There were a million ways I could have avoided it had I just not been completely and utterly moronic." No shit, Sherlock. Pablo's mom is pretty upset with him, but not NEARLY as upset as I'd be if I had to pick my lazy-ass no-working bad-attitude-having poetry-spewing BAD SEED up from the damn police station. He'd have to fucking WALK home. Barefoot. Naked. With "MY MOTHER PICKED ME UP FROM THE POLICE STATION AND ALL I GOT WAS A SMACK ON THE HEAD" painted across his back. Seriously.
"Consequences," Pablo sighs in VO. "There are no consequences! I'm sixteen years old! I'm a juvenile. They can't do anything bad to me even if they tried." Good to see he's learned a valuable lesson here. Pablo decides it's time to face the music, and the name of this song is "Petty." On the phone, he tells her that he has no regard for anybody and that he's a selfish wench. Agreed. He denies having trashed the place, insisting that he was cleaning up. What, in the street? I don't recall seeing him cleaning up a thing. Oh, maybe picking that girl up off the street was something the Department of Streets and Sanitation would have gotten to eventually. Way to be proactive, Pablo.