Jen and Jack sit amongst packed-up boxes at the Ryan Home; Jack stares glumly into the empty fridge as Jen prattles on about not leaving Grams, the "unstoppable cleaning machine," alone, blah blah blah. Grams "Bootsy Collins" Ryan enters, backstorying about "one last potluck at the ladies' auxiliary," and shoos Jack away from the stockpot he's snacking out of on the stove. More exposition about how the movers arrive at eight the next morning, which means that Jen has to get cracking on packing her room up; Jack watches the banter while sticking his finger into a jar of peanut butter. Jen laughingly accuses Grams of passive-aggressively trying to get her to stay in that night instead of seeing a movie with Dawson, but adds that she'll gladly chill at home if Grams wants to. Grams tells her not to be silly, adding that it's Dawson's last night in town. Oh, come on -- he's not joining the damn Foreign Legion, people. Jen points out that it's also their last night in the house, and Grams snorts fondly that "there's no point in being sentimental about these things," and everything's packed up anyway. Jen is about to argue it further, but Grams pacifies her by saying that they'll "have tea" after Jen gets home. "You packed the kettle," Jen whispers. Grams rolls her eyes and bustles off. Jen smiles sadly.
Ingrate Inn. The Flash charges across the lawn, computer box under one arm, all raring to get the laptop set up, but Dawson spots Joey hanging out with Gale "Last Overtanned-go In Paris" Leery on the patio and runs over to her, calling her "a sight for sore eyes." No comment. The revelation that Dawson plans to go to the movies with the rest of the gang touches off an argument with The Flash over the fact that it's Dawson's last night at home and doesn't he want to spend it with the family, and I think we've all had the exact same argument with our parents the month before we went away to school, like, "You're going out again? When do we get to see you? You have packing to do, young lady!" and I felt bad, but when it came down to a choice between going over to a friend's house and drinking beer in the basement and making out with my boyfriend or, you know, staying home with the same people I'd seen every damn day for the last seventeen years, well, "staying home" never won. Until my mother threatened to ground me, anyway. So, The Flash is hurt, and Dawson is snippy and arm-flappy, and Joey looks like she'd like to disappear; Gale tries to get The Flash to drop it, but The Flash isn't having it, and he plays the "little baby sister" guilt card, to no avail, and Dawson whines, "Dad, what is going on with you?" Duh, Dawson. He's going to miss you. Why, I can't imagine, but whatever -- although it's worth saying here that it's usually moms that wig out all "don't you care about us anymore?" while the dads do more subtle stuff like following you from room to room and beaming at you sadly from doorways while you pack up your milk crates. All this by way of saying that I can sympathize with Dawson, but Dawson should try to sympathize a little bit more with The Flash, who says he can't figure out when Dawson "became so insensitive." I'd have to go with January 20, 1998, myself. Dawson gripes back that The Flash has gotten "overbearing," and The Flash laughs mirthlessly and informs Dawson that he's staying for dinner. "No!" Dawson brats. Oh, man. "No"? Do I have to tell you how my father would have responded to that? That he would have said, "You want to hear 'no,' missy? Ask me if I'll still pay your college tuition if you don't park your butt at the dinner table tonight, because THEN YOU'LL HEAR A 'NO,' I ASSURE YOU"? I thought not. Dawson whines that he's "stressed out enough" about the impending move, and he's going to the movies, and he refuses to feel guilty about letting The Flash down, so he's going to spend the evening with the three people who "mean the world to" him and he'll hang with the fam later. Okay, you know, I sympathized with Dawson until he busted out that line, and now I totally don't. Like, first of all, there's ways to put things that don't hurt other people's feelings…and then there's what Dawson inevitably says…and never the twain shall meet. It's called "tact," Dawson. Look it up. And second of all, who talks to their parents that way and lives to tell the story? Anyway, The Flash sulks, "Do what you want," and stomps inside. Aw, poor Flash. Dawson turns to Gale and says in an officiously annoyed tone, "Mom?" Gale doesn't even want to deal with the situation, or Dawson, so she just sighs at him to go and have fun, and she clomps inside. How many mothers of newborns wear flimsy slip dresses and mules? Not many, right? Just wondering. Joey tells Dawson they don't have to go, but he smugs, "Let's get outta here," and they leave. Shut up, Dawson.
The strains of faux reggae lead us into filler scenes of tropical paradise, and slowly we pan over to a boat called "Benchmark," on the deck of which Pacey "So Why Don't You Kill Me" Witter futzes with various lines. A guy with mini-dreads tells him to take a break, because he's making Mini-Dreads tired. Mini-Dreads can come take a nap on my couch if he likes, because he's cute. Pacey asks where he might find a phone, and Mini-Dreads hands over his cell phone and tells Pacey to meet him in the bar when he's done making his call. Pacey dials, lets it ring a few times, then makes a "fuck that" face and hangs up and follows Mini-Dreads.