Elsewhere, Vince pulls the Jeep into the parking space in front of his house, and the beefy stalker man pulls right up behind him, gets out of his car and compliments Vince on the Jeep. After explaining that it's not his, Vince launches into the "It's been nice meeting you, but I have to get up I have to get up really early tomorrow morning" speech as the two of them stand in the rain and get drenched. Not missing a beat, the beefy stalker-man says, "Are we shagging, or what? It's pissing down out here." Suffering either from masochism or just plain old bad judgment, Vince leads the strange, bald, fugly, beefy stalker man into his home. What could have been a very unpleasant, Robert Bardo/Rebecca Schaeffer moment is reason enough for Vince to get his slut on. I try to picture David Letterman inviting Margaret Ray into his house for a cup of tea and some tossed salad, but thankfully I'm distracted by the next scene.
In case you hadn't guessed, nekkid Stuart is already on top of nekkid Nathan, and asking him what he likes to do. "I like watching telly," Nathan answers. "What do you like doing in bed?" Stuart clarifies. "This is fine," answers Nathan with what can only be described as the very definition of "timidity" in his voice. "Rimming?" queries Stuart, going in for the kill. "Yeah," Nathan replies, and you know without a shadow of a doubt that he has absolutely no clue what rimming involves, and yet you don't really feel sorry for him, because any curious fifteen-year-old with access to late-night cable TV should know what kind of mess (no pun intended) he was getting himself into. Poor Nathan; so young, so inexperienced, so bloody ignorant.
Luckily for him, our Nate is saved by the bell when the phone rings. Stuart answers, barking a series of questions ("When? How? What time?") into the phone, never leaving his kneeling position between Nathan's legs; he is quite clearly giving the young lad a handie, which culminates -- in record time, of course -- in Nathan jizzing all over Stuart, who loudly exclaims his protest, "Did you have to?!" Maybe he was stroking Nathan's cock to practice his cow-milking technique or something, but either way, he should have expected to get a bit sticky. He showers Nathan with semen with a flick of his wrist. Ta, mate. The woman on the phone asks Stuart what his problem is, which gives him a good opportunity to learn the name of the boy he's just tossed off -- as you do. After introducing Nathan to Lisa, the woman on the phone, he asks her some more questions ("Where is she now?"), thanks her and hangs up. He then tells Nathan that he'll call him a taxi, and Nathan says that he would have to be going anyway, as he has school in the morning. Stuart asks him how old he is, to which Nathan replies that he's eighteen. Stuart, displaying all the investigative savvy of a drive-through liquor store clerk, asks him what year he was born. Pause. "1981," offers Nathan. "Bollocks! You had to think. No one has to think about what year they were born." Nathan is so busted -- not that that'll stop him from lying again. After claiming to be sixteen, he finally 'fesses up to only being fifteen. Stuart lays another snog on him, either not caring about, or being turned on by, the idea of sex with a minor. Actually, it's probably a little of both.