Buddy climbs out of the car behind them, hurling accusations about Eli's driving. Eli braces himself and hops out of the truck. Finally, we get to see the full front of his t-shirt, which my boyfriend made. (Inevitable plug: they're available at an Urban Outfitters near you.) It says, "For good luck, rub my tummy." ["I have one myself, and so does Wing Chun. They rule. Buy one today!" -- Sars] Eli'd better get rubbing, no? The Rear-Ender comes flying at him, and through a thick Eastern European accent complains loudly about Eli's stopping short. Here's a thought: isn't it always the rear-ender's fault in collisions like these? And what the hell was he doing that he couldn't stop in time? Tailgating, maybe? Eli tries to explain that there was a woman in a wheelchair, but The Rear-Ender could give a shit. Look at his car! Eli should have crunched the old lady to save the front end of his Taurus! He starts complaining about "kids driving" blah blah blah grumpy-and-old-before-his-time cakes.
A cop car cruises up to the scene. Yeah, right. How convenient is that? Eli pleads with the guy to be reasonable and suggests that they exchange insurance information. The Rear's not interested. He'd rather continue making a scene. The cop saunters up to see what happened. "Have you exchanged information?" he asks. "Look at my car!" The Rear says for the billionth time. Okay, I'd probably be the same way, but it's still annoying. With arms and accent flying, he claims that Eli was "weaving all over the road!" Eli and Grace make it clear they have no idea what he's talking about. "Well-y-well-well," the cop thinks, and starts to imagine how this would play out on COPS, but The Rear interrupts his thought by getting in his face. The cop holds up his hands and tells the guy to calm down. He asks Eli, "Have you been drinking? Taking any kind of medication?" Grace pipes up, "Of course he hasn't! What do you think?" Grace has clearly never dealt with cops before. The cop tells her that he's talking to Eli. Eli says he hasn't been drinking, and he wasn't weaving all over the road. He shoots The Rear a dirty look. The cop asks if Eli has his license and registration. Eli flips through his wallet for his license and explains that the truck is his dad's. Grace pipes up yet again, "It's my stepfather's car, sir. The registration is in the glove compartment." Eli shoots her a look like, "Cheese it! It's the cops!" The cop catches it. Grace moves toward the truck, saying she'll get it. "Stop right there!" the cop orders. "Why don't you let me get it, okay?" Grace protests that she knows where it is. "That's fine. Why don't you let me get it," the cop says, pointing her toward the sidewalk so he can conduct his illegal search unmolested by these pesky kids. Eli knows the shit's hit. He glances at Grace while the cop tells The Rear to get his own information ready. Turning back to Eli, he "asks," "You don't mind if I look in your car for the registration, do you?" Eli knows he's damned either way, so he relents. It takes the cop approximately two-point-two seconds to spot the weed on the floor of the truck. Suddenly, he's not so interested in the registration. He emerges and asks Eli to step towards him and turn around. Uh-oh. Eli is so...wait for it...busted! The cop slaps on the handcuffs and Mirandizes him as we fade to commercials.