Pablo tells us in a voice-over that Petty doesn't get along with her mom, so she's been living with her grandfather, but her grandfather recently passed away. And, until some planned remodeling begins, the house is virtually empty, allowing Pablo and Petty to come and go as they please, sans parental supervision. So, basically, this is Pablo and Petty's "home" away from "home" (whatever that means, right, Pablo?). As P-man tidies and straightens up, he tells us that he and Petty each have keys to the place and they can do with it what they want, and he picks a pair of handcuffs up off the floor as his voice-over states, "We just try to avoid telling each other what we do." "Do"? With what? Handcuffs? I think we can all guess what you do with handcuffs, you dirty little monster. Naughty. Naughty!
Wow. I just slipped off into a land that should never, EVER, be visited again.
Pablo says that the one rule of the house is to leave things as you found them. "And even a small detail like a ring...or handcuffs on the floor...it's little things like that we have to remember in order to keep this place ours." Really? You mean Petty's mom might visit the house one day and notice something as eensy-weensy as HANDCUFFS ON THE FLOOR OF HER DEAD FATHER'S HOUSE? Handcuffs aren't "little," you doofus. Let me just put it this way: I've always preferred scarves to handcuffs -- not because they're softer or prettier, but because I DON'T HAVE TO EXPLAIN THEIR PRESENCE WHEN MY MOTHER COMES TO VISIT. Write this down.
As Pablo rambles up the sidewalk with a hiphugger-clad girl in tow, his VO says that he and Petty basically use the house to get away from their troubled family lives, and that it's "Kubla Khan's 'Dome of Paradise and Pleasure.'" Do you think I could get that printed on a t-shirt? Standing just inside the doorway of the house, the girl smirkingly looks on as Pablo opens up what I take to be a bedroom door; the front door of the house closes, forever shielding us from the fearful sight of Pablo attempting to have carnal knowledge of hiphugger girl.
The next day (or any other day, really -- I have no idea what the timeline is supposed to be with this show), Pablo's up at a podium, reading one of his violence- and madness-soaked poems while other teen angsters look on in appreciation. Pablo finishes and Kaytee, who's been hanging out in the audience awaiting her turn, says, "No more razors!" Damn. Then my legs would get all hairy. Nobody wants that, least of all me. Ew.