Cut to Smalls slamming his fist into the table and informing Pacey that the boat disappeared between 12:30 and 5, and among the seniors, only Pacey had access to the storage area. Back-and-forth. Wing asks for another pillow. Pacey says he'll talk, but he has to warn Smalls: "It's gonna be deathly boring." Yeah, why don't you tell me about it?
The cruiser, parked by the side of the road. Pacey, whose skin looks like the surface of Ganymede, asks Doug in a glum tone if he gets bored and wonders what happened to his life. Doug turns to stare at Pacey, wounded: "Pardon me?" Doug is really cute, I've just noticed. Mmmm. Close-up. Oh, sorry. Anyway, Pacey sniffs that, despite Doug's delusions of Dirty Harry, he's "nothin'," and calls him Barney Fife. Doug looks down sadly: "Does this diatribe have a point, Pacey?" Pacey regards him for a moment and realizes that he's hurt Doug's feelings, and as The Piano Of Brotherly Understanding plinks away, Pacey stammers that no, it doesn't, he's just "a little disconcerted by it all." Doug summons up a fake smile. Pacey looks sad.
Smalls confirms that Dawson hadn't left Mr. Brooks's as of noon, but by 12:30 Dawson "was more than ready to get outta there." We see Dawson lifting boxes, his oily hair flopping across his massive brow. A horn honks outside; it's Gretchen "Winter Oldrums" Witter, come to pick him up in Gale's stead. Mr. Brooks materializes as Dawson reaches the car and asks where he's going. Dawson says he's "done for the day." "The hell you are," Mr. Brooks thunders, saying that if Dawson thinks he can take the money and go off with his girlfriend, he's "sadly mistaken." "She's not my girlfriend," Dawson snips. Gretchen smiles to herself in the car. Mr. Brooks tells Dawson to come back in three hours or he can forget about getting paid. Dawson slumps wearily into the car. Unfunny banter. Gretchen asks of Mr. Brooks, "So what was that about?" Dawson grumbles something snarky. Shut up, Dawson.
Cut to Jack blathering about Jen's insight into "the ten-year-old psyche" and how he kept working on Molly to play goalie and blah doodly-ah. Fade to Jack beckoning Molly From The Black Lagoon over and asking if she got her orange slices. She says that she got one, but some little git named Billy took the other one and smashed it into the ground. "Billy's a jerk," Jack says, and Molly agrees: "Just wait till I'm seventeen and hot -- he'll regret messing with me." Wait a minute -- what? So, he shouldn't regret messing with her now…and when he does regret it in the future, he'll do so because…she's beautiful and can manipulate him sexually? What the hell kind of lookist beauty-centric bullshit is that? Billy behaved rudely, and regardless of gender, Molly should go open a half-pint jar of whup-ass on the little brat -- now, not later. Yeah, a bunch of people on the forums cheered this line, but when you think about it, it's fucked up. Jack laughs and tells her, "Look, Molly, it doesn't matter if you're seventeen or you're forty-five, these guys aren't going to respect you unless you make them." Again, what? All little boys think all little girls suck? Not true. A ten-year-old boy will get grossed out by the concept of kissing a ten-year-old girl, true, and vice versa, but to say that all little boys think that little girls can't play sports as well or that they somehow lack skills is a gross generalization. Again, I umpired Little League, and who gave me shit for showing up with boobs? The parents. The kids couldn't have cared any less. Sure, they called me names, but only when a call went against them -- the kids didn't care. I don't know why I expect the Dawson's Creek writers to portray any semblance of reality, or to take five fucking minutes to examine the sexism that leaks out of every sentence they put into a character's mouth on this crap-ass show, but the fact remains that a little boy should AUTOMATICALLY show a little girl respect because IT'S GOOD MANNERS, and a little girl should not have to PROVE HERSELF in order to earn that respect, and I cannot TELL YOU how tired I have gotten of pointing out the transparent, flimsy, fake-rah-rah, watered-down-girl-power lip service the writers give to women and feminist issues, and it's not that I think they have an obligation to provide politically correct storylines, but rather that they obviously take great pride in jerk-ass subplots like this one because they think they've Made An Important Statement about Doing The Right Thing, and it makes me ill that they consider "wait till I'm seventeen and hot" anything resembling empowerment for Molly, or that she should "have to" play goalie so that a posse of rugrats -- raised by ignorant parents who encourage them to discriminate against girls -- will acknowledge her right to fair treatment.