Benson and Stabler confront Karen with the emails. "This guy is a predator," says Benson. "Why are you protecting him?" "I'm not protecting him," mumbles Karen, who is beginning to sniffle like the teen drama queen she is. Finally she admits that she never even met the Yachtsman. "He was this guy that me and my girlfriends used to e-mail as a joke." The story is that Karen had sex with her boyfriend Keith and she didn't want Mother Chuckles to find out. "She's totally paranoid and she would've known! When I come home she makes me undress in front of her, and she smells my hair -- she's a total fascist. Please don't tell my mom -- she'll kill me!" Stabler comes over to the table and sits down: "Nothing your mother does or might do justifies you filing a false police report. You understand that's a serious crime?" That's right, kids. No matter how crunchy delicious Detective Stabler looks with his biceps ready to bust out of his dress shirt, it does not justify calling 911. "I'm sorry," sniffles Karen. Benson gives her some paper and a pen so she can change her testimony. "Are you going to arrest my boyfriend?" whimpers Karen. "Why would we do that?" Benson asks. "Because he's twenty-one?" says Karen. Benson's eyebrows hit the ceiling. Stabler sucks in his breath. "We should talk to him," he says. Karen, we presume, is using her pen and paper to write two hundred times, "Next time I will keep my big fat mouth shut. Next time I will keep my big fat mouth shut. Next time I will keep my big fat mouth shut. Next time . . . "
Stabler calls Boyfriend Keith into the station. "You ever hear of statutory rape?" Stabler asks him. Boyfriend Keith turns pale. Then Stabler gets out his ol' shotgun and chases Keith clear off the farm.
Meanwhile Munch and Jeffries have managed to open the photos that the Yachtsman sent Karen. Uh-oh. Stabler goes over to look on the monitor. "The man's face is blackened out, but not his date's," says Munch. "How old is that girl?" says Stabler. Munch: "Not nearly old enough." Stabler gets pissed.
Now for some Quality Time in the cozy living room of the Stabler (Than Thou) Family. "How many photos were on her computer?" asks Kathy The Light-Of-His-Life Wife. "Too many," says Stabler. "He was sending them to her several times a day." Light-Of-His-Life points out that every time she opens her email there's something from "Tina" or "Mitzi" advertising "the hottest teen site on the Internet." Light-Of-His-Life wrings her hands: "If WE get them, then --" "Dickie, Maureen, Kathy, and Elizabeth do too, I know," says Stabler. Behind him in the background, the family computer glows menacingly. It's in screen-saver mode, and I try hard to decipher the text that's scrolling across the monitor. Light-Of-His-Life confesses that all this Internet pervo stuff scares her. Stabler says he can't just go and nab the guy: "I mean, you tell me where these predators are. I can't hear 'em, I can't see them." "But they're out there," says Light-Of-His-Life. Stabler gestures behind him towards the computer. "Honey, they're in here." Well, I still can't quite read the stuff on the computer screen, but I'm pretty sure it says, "PSST . . . HEY KID . . . WANT SOME CANDY?"