Ernest had been sitting by the pool, and he was a good three drinks down by the time the call came through. He'd almost not answered - he wasn't meant to be there after all, and if it was Charlie or anyone from the space station he would've expected the call to come to his cell. But he was curious, and he had a slight hope that it might be one of his children, even if that was highly unlikely. He definitely hadn't expected the call to be about Charlie.
After a brief conversation with a local police officer, Ernest agreed that he would bail him out. He did consider leaving him to stew for a while longer while he finished his drink, but considering he'd knocked a man out cold a few evenings earlier, he had a feeling he knew where this anger stemmed from. It would've been hypocritical of him to be overly harsh on the kid.
Fortunately, drink driving laws were non-existent, so on a bit of a cocktail buzz, Ernest shot across town in the Chevrolet, pulled up outside the police station and headed on in to see the desk sergeant.