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?
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?
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)