MR. STORM: No, you take it easy, asshole! This is bullshit, I’m out of here!
MR. LOCKING: I’m warning you, ma—
MR. STORM: About what, asshole? You think I give a shit about you and your fucking college? Fuck this place! Fuck you! You, too, Cindy—how could you do this to me? First thing I do when I’m out of here is call your mother and—
MS. VESPUCCI: Kenny! Please—no—I’m sorry—Kenny, come on, please!
PROF. STEINBERGER: What about her mother, Mr. Storm?
MR. STORM: Let her tell you.
PROF. STEINBERGER: Cindy?
MR. STORM: What a laugh! This is ancient fucking history!
MR. LOCKING: Professors, it seems to me that before we go further, this guy’s going to have to—
PROF. STEINBERGER: Is there something else going on between you two that you haven’t told us about, Cindy?
MS. VESPUCCI: [Sobbing] It’s my fault.
MR. STORM: Damn fucking strai—
MR. LOCKING: Watch your mouth!
MR. STORM: Fu—
PROF. STEINBERGER: Please, sir, we’ll hear you out. But please let her talk. Okay? Thank you. Cindy?
MS. VESPUCCI: It’s my fault.
PROF. DEVANE: What is, Cindy?
MS. VESPUCCI: I—was—I was mad at him . . . maybe partly because of my mom.
PROF. DEVANE: He did something to your mom?
MR. STORM: Yeah, right, I’m a rapist. Tell them, Cindy, go on. Come on—what’s the matter, cat got your tongue? Bringing me here with that letter, I thought I was being suspended. What total and complete bull—
MS. VESPUCCI: Stop! Please!
MR. STORM: Then tell them. Or I will.
PROF. DEVANE: Tell us what?
MS. VESPUCCI: It’s stupid.
MR. STORM: That’s for sure! Her mom and my dad had a—they were dating. Til my dad shut her mom down because she was too left-wing. Her mom can’t hold on to a man, Cindy probably blamed my dad. So when she saw me at the party, she decided to hit on me and get even.
MS. VESPUCCI: No! That’s not true! You came up to me first! I danced with you because you were acting like a gentleman—
MR. STORM: What a crock! You were wearing that nothing little black—
PROF. DEVANE: Hold on. When you say left-wing, do you mean politically?
MR. STORM: What else? Radical feminism. Her mom’s a flaming extremist. Hates men, taught Cindy to. She was just setting me up for—
MS. VESPUCCI: I wasn’t, Kenny! You were a gentleman. Not like—
MR. STORM: Not like my dad? Don’t you fucking put him down!
MS. VESPUCCI: I didn’t mean that. I meant the other guys at the—
MR. STORM: Right.
MS. VESPUCCI: Kenny—
MR. STORM: Fuck this!
PROF. STEINBERGER: Kenny, does your dad approve of your swearing?
MR. STORM: Okay. I’m sorry. I’m just super-steamed. Because this is totally unfair. My dad and her mom had problems so she set me up. It’s—
MS. VESPUCCI: I didn’t! I swear!
MR. STORM: Right. You just picked me ’cause of my cute face—
PROF. DEVANE: Let’s regain our focus. Whatever the motivation for your initial meeting, Mr. Storm, you did go out with Ms. Vespucci. And she claims you attempted to force her to have sex with you.
MR. STORM: Bul—no way. No . . . blanking way! Sure I asked her. Why not? We’d already been out a bunch of times. But I didn’t touch her without permission—right, Cindy? So I asked her if she wanted to do it. Is that a crime, now?
PROF. DEVANE: Shoving her out of the car when she turned you down is, sir.
MR. STORM: Yeah, except I didn’t shove her. She freaked and got out herself, fell down. Actually, I tried to stop her—that’s the only time I grabbed her arm.
PROF. DEVANE: That’s not what she says—correct, Ms. Vespucci?
MS. VESPUCCI: Just forget it.
PROF. DEVANE: Cindy, I really don’t—
MS. VESPUCCI: Please.
PROF. DEVANE: Let’s talk about that purse, Cindy. Can we agree that it got thrown?
MR. STORM: Hell, no! After she got out, I gave it to her because it was hers and—
PROF. DEVANE: So you threw it at her.
MR. STORM: Not at her, to her. What did I need a purse for? Jesus. She refused to catch it so it fell into the street.