Haley walks quickly through the house. Nathan sees her and asks, "Are you leaving?" Haley whisper-snits, "Nathan. We had a deal, you said you were going to be nice." Blah he's being nice, blah invited him, blah stinking party, blah he's a hero blah. Tim hovers in the background. He needs to feel the heat of Nathan from wherever he is or else he won't survive. Haley: "What did you say anyway?" Nathan makes it out like he was joking, that riding someone like he just did to Lucas is just a necessary part of the team's camaraderie. Blah lame joke, blah trying to include him blah. Haley: "Maybe you need to rethink your approach." Is Haley really this dumb? Can she not see through Nathan if she's so damn smart? Hell, even Peyton sees through him and she's a wooden post. He asks her how he should handle the situation. Haley seems to believe he's on the level: "It's easy." She whispers, "Stop being such a jerk." Actually, Haley's naiveté is kind of refreshing; not every teenager on the WB needs to be so damn worldly and irritatingly precocious. Haley moves further through the party.
Lucas heads outside to the porch where Peyton sits, looking rather drunk, on a swinging bench. She slurs, "He really slammed you." She's still hugging the beer cup. Luke says, "I don't care what he thinks." Then he broods off the edge of the porch, just to try to make us think he's actually telling the truth. The ocean sounds quite lovely in the background. Peyton mumbles, "Well, neither do I." Luke turns around to face her: "Oh, yeah. Then why are you drinking?" She looks at him and takes another sip of beer. Nathan watches from inside the house as Luke bends down in front of Peyton. He turns around, plotting his next crucial step, but Tim interrupts his evil planning. "Nathan," he asks, "how come your parents don't have any decent porn?" No, this isn't a rhetorical question. I'm guessing that good porn is a staple of the Smith household. Whatever. I've never known any parents to have porn just lying around in the cupboard under the television in the living room. Anyway, Nathan's got a better idea, and he pulls out an old videotape. Tim drawls, "Whut is it?" Nathan smirks, "It's a comedy." On goes the TV, and in goes the tape.
Back to Luke and Peyton outside. He says, "So, I'm confused. You want to be anonymous, but you let the world watch you on a webcam." Hallelujah. Finally, someone brings up the absolute "paradox" at the centre of Peyton's character: she wants to be an artist, not a popular cheerleader. Yawn. She says, "The world isn't watching me, but I guess you are." Luke cocks his head back and smiles, "Okay, the point is, you want to express yourself, but you don't want people to know it's you." Okay, I just thought I'd take the time to tell you all that my name isn't really Ragdoll. Um, I'm not really hiding behind this pseudonym or anything. I'm just afraid of the world. I'm afraid to expose myself to the hurt that comes from making my art public. I'm scared to death that you all won't accept me for who I really am. Peyton and I are really two soul sisters making the same journey toward artistic acceptance. Zzzz. Peyton replies, "I guess I'm just a riddle, wrapped inside a mystery, in a bitch." Yeah, that comeback, it doesn't even really make that much sense. Damn, TPTB really need to work on their dialogue in certain places. They know where to find me if they need some help. I've got some pointers. Luke says, "Maybe you're just a tortured artist." Yeah, and I'm really Picasso reincarnated. Peyton: "Look, I don't need you defending me or my work. I don't need you analyzing or interpreting me either. In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't need you at all." For some reason, her cold shoulder doesn't faze him; he sure is cocky for someone who seems to be a sort of unpopular, nerdy loner. He says, "Pretty sure?"