And of course, as the balloons out front would have indicated to anyone whose brain was in its proper place (that would be two feet above the waistband of one's jeans rather than a few inches below it, in case you had to ask), it's actually a birthday party for Lisa's son, Ben, whom we meet just as he's unwrapping a CD with a particularly enthusiastic, "Yes! AC/DC rooooolz! Awesome!" For yes, gentle reader, Lisa's son is not only precisely the right age to have been a product of Dean's particularly bendy weekend with his mother, but he's also been endowed with particularly Dean-like traits, such as his immediately apparent predilection for extra-crispy amounts of gel in his hair, his just-revealed fondness for the greatest hits of mullet rock, and his soon-to-be-revealed admiration for bouncy chicas of the saucy sort, just to clobber the whole possible-paternity point home to those viewers who happen to be stupider than Dean, here. Yep, it takes Dim Dean several minutes to realize that the kid in front of him is likely his bastard son, but that's not really important right now, because Demented Diana and her demonic daughter have just arrived at the party, and Lisa must take Dean's leave to welcome their psychotic asses. Left alone, El Deano admires the NASCAR-themed birthday cake for an undue amount of time while two of Lisa's neighbors -- a brunette we never see again and a red-headed real estate agent -- stare at his ass. Well, actually, they're staring at his stumpy little bowlegs, because the too-long jacket he's sporting blocks their view of his ass, but we're supposed to be paying attention to the bits of racy gossip they're bantering between themselves, anyway, so whatever. Long story short, Lisa's confided her version of that particularly bendy weekend's delights to her neighbors, and to Dean's credit, she remembers it as fondly as he does. The gossipy bitches get all fluttery and overheated when Dean grants them a hello. Dean picks up on the passion rising in their loins, freaks, and bolts. Heh.

Unfortunately, he bolts directly into an annoying an unnecessary scenelet with his supposed bastard of a son in which the similarities between their personalities are even more obnoxiously underscored for the absolutely and brutally dimwitted in the audience who have yet to figure it all out, so let's hop back into...