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Dean, age 17, is having trouble with his family.
He feels that they are stifling his freedom, and he wishes they
would leave him alone.
Tanya (Mom): Dean,
your grandmother asked you to pass the pasta salad.
Dean looks down at his plate.
Tanya: What
are you, deaf? Pass the pasta salad.
Dean passes the pasta salad.
Grandmother: How
was school today?
Dean: Okay.
Tanya: Did
you have any interesting classes?
Dean: Not
really.
Tanya: Stop
stuffing so much food into your mouth.
Dean continues to eat rapidly.
Grandmother: Didn't
anybody teach you how to cut your meat?
Dean: Would
you guys get out of my face? I'm just eating dinner.
Tanya: Well
maybe if you would give an answer that was more than 3 words, I
could.
Dean: Mom,
why would I talk to you? You're backwards. You don't understand
anything.
Tom (Dad): Don't
insult your mother.
Dean: I'm
not insulting her.
Tom: You're
not speaking respectfully.
Dean: I need
the car. I have to go pick up Robert from work. We're going bowling.
Tom: Who
told you that you could have the car?
Dean: Mom.
Tom: You
can't go out bowling on the one day your Grandmother is here to
visit.
Dean: Is
it okay, Gram?
Grandma:
I don't mind..
Tom: Well
I do. Why don't we all go? Then we can all spend time together.
Dean: I'm
not going out with my parents. You guys look like, well , it's embarrassing
to be out with your parents.
Mom: C'mon.
We haven't been out together with Grandma in over a year. It would
be fun for everybody. You could bring Robert.
Dean: I'm
not going out with you. I have plans. I'm not going to look like
a total dweeb loser -- out with my parents.
Tom: You
can't have the car anyway. So you might as well come with us.
Dean: You
lied to me. You told me I could have the car.
Tom: We didn't
realize Grandma would be here today.
Dean: You
treat me like garbage. You lie to me. You don't care about me. I
have plans. I have things I want to do. I'm almost 17 and you're
still treating me like a baby.
Tom: A baby?
I let you take the car and who pays for the gas? Who takes it to
the shop to be fixed? Who puts oil in? Do you? No.
Dean: Get
a grip. If you want me to put in gas, just say so.
Tom: Yeah,
where are you going to get the money?
Grandma: I'll
give you money, Tom. I'll pay for you to take a taxi to the bowling
alley if you want.
Tanya: Mom,
don't spoil him. He can stay home with us.
Grandma: It's
my pleasure to spoil him.
Tom: You're
not going. You're going to stay home. For one night, you can stay
home with us.
Dean: I'm
out of here. (He grabs his jacket and goes)
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