Brittnay: I don't know Mom, they won't tell me what it's about. I'm supposed to have a parent, and we're supposed to have a meeting, and that's all I know. What? Yes, I do think it's probably about the fact that my fucking car got blown up Mom! You know that you were supposed to be here in five fucking minutes, right! I don't want to be the only kid here whose Mom was just too busy to show up to the goddamn Parent-Teacher Conference—
Veronica: I'm here.
Brittnay: Well Jesus Mom, why are you letting me waste my goddamn minutes? Come on.
Mrs. Zales: Look, Frank, it's very simple, all you need to do is get the paperwork together by Friday, get Bruce to sign them, then I can just roll them up and shove them up your ass, you fucking helpless piece of dogshit! Stop making me hold your hand on this deal, Frank, we're not in junior high and you're not going to finger me at the lunch tables!
Mackenzie: Mom... Mom... Momma!
Mrs. Zales: Mackenzie, can't you see Mommy's on an important business call?
Mackenzie: Yes, Mom, but we're here, we need to go inside.
Mrs. Zales: What's this meeting about again? Did you and your friends rip another girl's arm off? Sorry, Frank, I gotta go. I think my daughter's been playing tug of war with her friends' limbs again... What? That's my fucking daughter, Frank! You keep your fucking jokes to yourself! Come on, honey, let's go.
Mackenzie: What, um, what did he say?
Trish: Wow, things have not changed a bit since I went to this school.
Trisha: Oh yeah Mom, what was it like when you were here?
Trish: Ah, best six years of my life. Let's just say, when your mom was in high school, she really got around!
Trisha: Oh, you mean you had classes all over campus?
Trish: Yup! One time I had a third period in the science lab, and then I had a fourth period geometry class in the math building!
Trish: Ahhhh! Can you believe that shit?
Trisha: Wow Mom, you've really lived a life.
Trish: Ah Trisha, the stories I could tell you.
Mr. McNeely: Alright, everybody, I'm glad you could all make it. Now, we all know why we're here—
Trish: Mr. McNeely, I for one find it offensive and irresponsible that you have called a meeting simply because my daughter is dating an African American man.
Mr. McNeely: Mrs. Cappelletti, that's not at all why we're here.
Trish: Well, I should hope not! Come along, Trisha.
Mr. McNeely: Mrs. Cappelletti, you have to stay.
Trish: Oh, okay.
Mr. McNeely: Alright, now, like I was saying, we're here today because—
Pamela: We're here because your daughter and her gang of street toughs have broken my daughter's nose!
Brittnay: Well maybe your daughter wouldn't have gotten her nose broken if she hadn't lit my fucking car on fire!
Veronica: Now sweetie, there's no need to use that kind of language right now.
Brittnay: Really, Mom? Did your fucking car get lit on fire?!
Veronica: Honey, your father and I already bought you a new car.
Brittnay: You bought me a Nissan Leaf Mom! A fucking Leaf! Every time I go up a big hill, it sounds like goddamn Judith Dinsmore in PE class.
Judith: (stops running) (wheezes) You guys go ahead, I'm gonna sit this one out.
Brittnay: A fucking Leaf Mom!
Mr. Mcneely: Alright, alright, everybody, it looks like... it's getting hot in here! But instead of taking off all of your clothes, how about we introduce ourselves? I'm Mr. McNeely, and all of the students around here call me Mr. Mack.
Brittnay: No, no we don't.
Mackenzie: Nope, nobody does that.
Mr. McNeely: Okay, well, they could start. Moving on!
Pamela: I suppose I'll go first. Afternoon ladies, my name is Pamela Darabond. I am Jenna's mother and of course, the wife of our esteemed Senator, Darren Darabond. The senator wishes he could be here, but as is the case when you're a United States Congressman, duty calls.
Mackenzie: Mom. Mom. Mom!
Mrs. Zales: Oh. I'm Mackenzie's mom. What's the wi-fi password in here?
Mr. McNeely: Oh, actually, Mrs. Zales we don't have wi-fi here. This is a public school.
Mrs. Zales: A public school where? Pyongyang? Am I right?
Mr. McNeely: Okay! Moving on, Mrs. Matthews?
Veronica: Good afternoon, everybody. I'm Veronica Matthews and I am the mother of this little princess right here, and frankly, I just can't imagine her having anything to do with this whole situation. Why I remember when she was three years old, she was still wetting the bed, but—
Brittnay: Mom! No!
Veronica: What? No, honey, this is a good story—
Brittnay: I said no!
Veronica: No, but this is a funny—
Brittnay: I don't care!
Veronica: But you were—
Brittnay: I said no! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
Mr. McNeely: Ooookkkayyy... Mrs. Cappelletti, why don't you introduce yourself?
Trisha: Hi, everybody, I'm Trish Cappelletti, not to be confused with Trisha Cappelletti. No relation.
Trisha: Oh no you didn't!
Trish: (laughs) I'm joking! You guys believed it! Ah, you must feel real dumb! Real dumb. She's my daughter.
Trisha: We're definitely related.
Trish: She came out of my vagina.
Trisha: Yeah I did!
(Trish and Trisha high five)
Mr. McNeely: And lastly, uh, Shay, where are your parents?
Shay: Oh, well, um, um, my mom couldn't make it.
Shay: She had a big business meeting.
(Jayna is shown sleeping)
Mr. McNeely: Okay, well, I suppose we're all here, then. Why don't we—
Darren: I hope I'm not interrupting anything.
Mr. McNeely: Oh, are you Shay's father?
Darren: Ah no.
Darren: Senator Darren Darabond. I got a call saying I was needed back home for an urgent matter concerning my daughter. And like I say in my campaign posters, I care about my country, but I love my family. Here have a button. Here's a button. Here, here you go. There's a button for you.
Trish: Oooh, ooh, let's put it on.
Trish and Trisha: Owwwwwwwwww!
Trisha: How do I look?
Trish: Oh wait, hold on, you've got a little bit of blood.
Mackenzie: Senator Darabond, so good to see you. May I extend my most heartfelt congratulations on finally passing that Ass Rape Tax yesterday.
Darren: Oh Mrs. Zales, so good to see you too. And you and I both know that the AR Tax, which stands for Adjusted Retirement, by the way, was passed for the benefit of the American worker. You know, the guys whose jobs you enjoy shipping off to India so much?
Mrs. Zales: Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, how about you suck my dick?
Darren: Well, I guess with language like that, it's safe to assume that your daughter is the rabblerouser who broke my sweet little angel's nose?
Veronica: Oh no no, that was my sweet little angel who broke your sweet little angel's nose. But don't worry about it, she's very sorry.
Brittnay: The fuck I am! Hey Mom, why don't you tell them the truth, that they're lucky that I didn't rip their daughter's face off and wear it like a fucking Halloween mask!
Veronica: Well pumpkin, I think that's a little extreme—
Brittnay: Extreme? She blew up my fucking car!
Darren: Angel, did you blow up this girl's car?
Jenna Darabond: No, Daddy! I would never do such a thing.
Darren: Well, you heard her. That's enough for me.
Mackenzie: Are you fucking kidding me? She burnt down a mall!
Jenna Darabond: Daddy, I don't know what these girls are talking about! The last time I saw them they were in a random alley, probably trying to score some crack cocaine, you know, for their next fix. Next thing I know, they're all standing around a burning car. If you ask me, looks like a meth cook gone wrong.
Pamela: Ah, I wish there was more we could do for today's youth to keep them off the streets and away from the drugs!
Mackenzie: We weren't doing drugs in the alley!
Trisha: I found a possum!
Trish: Ooh! What kind?
Trisha: An angry!
Trish: Been there, fucking been there.
Mackenzie: Ugh, good god.
Trish: Mr. McNeely, I think we can all see what's going on here. What we have is nothing more than a simple case of a young girl getting injured while playing an innocent game of Possum Chase.
Shay: We weren't chasing possums—
Darren: My daughter was not just injured, her soul was crushed. You don't understand what a nose means to a teenage girl—
Brittnay: She blew up my fucking car! A fucking Leaf, mom!
Mrs. Zales: What the fuck is the wi-fi password?
Mr. McNeely: Alright that is enough! In all of my years of teaching—
Shay: You've been here like six weeks.
Mr. McNeely: In all my weeks of teaching, I have never, never seen such behavior! A girl's nose is broken! Another girl's car has been burnt to ashes!
Trisha: Don't forget about the possums.
Mr. McNeely: Enough with the possums! If you all think that you're just going to come in here, scream at each other and then walk out, you are dead wrong! Nobody is leaving until we resolve this issue. All of my papers have been graded. I just had a hearty meal of grocery store sushi, and I've got no friends, so ladies, Senator, settle in, because I've got nothing but time.