Scout walks in and he hugs his dad. Will looks on with much jealousy. "So?" Senator asks. "Oh, yeah, we're in, we're in!" Scout says. "Best qualifying time in three years," Will nods. Wait, there's only three men in the room. I smell a Finn. "Good work today, guys." There he is, all leaning in the doorway being creepy. Scout introduces Finn as "our fearless leader." I hate these Prichard Bitches. Finn tells Senator Homecoming that his boat "still holds the record." The Senator gives his vote-winning smile and says, "That's right, since 1977." Okay. Math time. 1977. That was twenty-three years ago. Now, I guess if he went back to homecoming fifteen years ago for the 1985 Homecoming Whateverfest, he might have shacked up with Bella's mom then. But if in 1977 he was fifteen, then how old was he when he went to jail for protesting Vietnam? Maybe that's why Scout never told the entire story. He was either lying, or his dad was the oldest kid in Rawley. Either way, it's embarrassing. And shacking up with a Townie on Homecoming isn't really the way they made it sound in the first episode, is it? This is a later note they've added because it doesn't make any sense. Oh, forget it.
Small talk and head nods and lots of hands in pockets round out the scene. All four of them have their hands in their pockets. Is there no director here? Senator Who'sYourDaddy asks Will if his father is coming. I'll leave that joke alone, because young Will hates any sort of light-hearted conversation and immediately starts hemming and hawing and "actually"-ing until Scout changes the subject. He tells his dad that Will is one of the best rowers on the team. "Well," he says, "thank God for the Will Krudskis of this world." Yes, I have added that to my nightly prayers. Thanks for long-winded-no-point voice-overs and constant reminders that poor kids aren't allowed to have any fun. Thanks for strange-sized heads and moping. Thanks for weird man-boy love in an adult teacher's room. Senator Humpsalot says, "And here's what I'm thinking: Fannies." Fannies. They just can't leave the boy-love alone, can they? Will chimes in that Fannies is a restaurant and they make the "best lobster rolls ever." The senator smiles and says, "So, you're with us today." Oooookay.
I guess he isn't, because suddenly Will has teleported to his bike, wheeling to a stop outside Mamawhore's shop. Huzzah! Mamawhore! What words of wisdom will she have this time? I hope it's "never frost on a Friday, honey. Here, hand Mamawhore her Kools." Will tells all of the shop "ladies" that they have to come out and see the Regatta because the junior division has never finished first in this race. Well, then, what the hell was the senator bragging about? Will also says "y'all" here, which probably happened when the writer thought the place was set in Raleigh and not Rawley. It happens. I understand. Will starts bragging about Scout's dad to Mamawhore and mentions that he got to drive his Mercedes. "In the parking lot." Mamawhore starts sweating at the mention of older men and luxury cars. She flips Will's strands and announces that he could use a haircut. "In the bowl, mister," she says. Will walks over to the sink, but for some reason we just stay on a close-up of Mamawhore for a while as she licks her lips. As she starts preparing him for the shampoo, she says that his dad was cleaning out the attic the other day and they found a bunch of his old trophies, books, and journals. "Thought you'd might want to take a look at 'em." He's only gone for the summer, woman. Don't rent out his room yet, okay? Will ruins everything with, "I'm surprised he didn't burn them and then blame it on me like he does everything else." I hate Will. "Will," Mamawhore says. "Stop sticking up for him," Will brats. "I'm not," Mamawhore says, because she wasn't. She only said Will's name. Mamawhore reminds Will that his dad doesn't have the opportunities Will does. "And that's my fault?" Will laughs. Oh, Will. How quickly you've become one of them. Liv Tynot was so right. Mamawhore says that his dad doesn't know how to have a conversation with him. "They're called words, Mom," Will says as he leans back and lets his mother wash his hair and then chew up his lunch and regurgitate it back into his mouth. She strokes his neck so he swallows and reminds him that he's the most special-est boy on the whole planet, and everyone loves him and he's a big strong writer with deep thoughts.