Jim? Jim! James Winningham get in here right now! Oh I'll tell you what the big deal is young man. Sit down.

Earlier today, your mother was cleaning in your room and she found…well, just show him, Emily. Yep. You know what that is? Of course you do, because it's marijuana. Oh yeah, you're definitely in trouble. Call that girlfriend of yours, Ilana, and tell her you can't make it to her makeout party tonight, because you are grounded. We are going to get on your ass, young man. I want your schedules for classes, homework, tests, and sports because you'll be doing nothing but studying and chores until this summer. And we're going to need your dealer's number as well.

This is not the time for questions, Jim! You are in hot water right now. You know, I can't believe you would take these sorts of risks when you know that college application season is right around the corner and your grades and boards are just borderline. You know what? Just go to your room. I'm so angry I can barely speak to you right now. I didn't even know you COULD get weed in this town! No, Emily! We tried being nice and he turned into a little sneaky pothead. Go to your room! Uh, but before you go, I need you to call the guy who sells you weed and tell him we're cool. Do it!

Well, if we're going to march over there and give him a warning about dealing drugs in our town, we can't have him thinking we're a narc. Otherwise…he won't let us in…to discipline him. Don't take that tone with me, James! You are one tiny hair from getting your Xbox taken away and put in our bedroom. What else have you been hiding from us? Huh? Shrooms? Needles? Men? Well, I don't know, apparently there's a lot we don't know about you.

Okay, fine. You're right, dear. We wouldn't be mad if you were hiding gayness. Unless you were harboring actual gay men in your closet. Although that would be pretty funny. What? I am NOT not high right now! That is NOT funny! Seriously, Emily, stop laughing, cool it.

Son, I'm angry and I have to go to work tomorrow, so why don't you just go to your room, think about what you've done and how you can repair the damage, and give me this kid's name. I don't care if we know his parents, tell me who he is! I promise I'm not going to blow anyone's game up, I just need to have a man to man chat with this little miscreant. Kevin?! Kevin Miller, the chess club kid? Figures. His parents are a bunch of hippies. He always struck me as a shifty one. I bet he rips off all the innocent kids around town who don't know any better. Probably charges forty an eighth or something.

Sixty!!! Sixty dollars an eighth for this shit!? What a little fuck! In fucking Westchester!? No I don't know what weed prices are, I'm just…a genius. Son, it's time I told you something. I'm a super genius. Emily! Stop laughing! Ohmigod milk just came out your nose, that is so fucking…hahahahahahahahaHAHAHA…ha…ha…erm.

Go to bed, son.

Previously published on www.thedopplegang.com