[TIMMY, a 15-year-old boy with green hair wearing headphones and carrying a skateboard rocks and bops his way down the hallway of his house, a Billy Idol sneer on his face. He arrives at the door of his room, which has a large DO NOT ENTER sign on it. He opens the door and sees his MOM sitting on the bed, a worried expression on her face.]
TIMMY: MO-OM! Can’t I have any privacy around this house? What are you doing in here?
MOM: Timmy, we have to talk.
TIMMY: About wha— (He notices the small, white, paper-wrapped stick in his mother’s hands) That’s not mine!
MOM: Timmy, this is serious business. Who got you into this — this thing?
TIMMY: No one! I’m not gonna fink on my friends! I’m no stoolie!
MOM: [Stands and walks over to Timmy] Timmy, you just said “Fink”. I know what you’ve been doing. What is this, Timmy? [She holds up the stick in front of Timmy’s face]
TIMMY: It’s… it’s a marijuana cigarette!
MOM: Timmy, this isn’t just a harmless marijuana cigarette. This is greasepaint. You’ve been Vaudevilling with your friends, haven’t you?
TIMMY: No, I….
MOM: You just said “fink”, Timmy.
MOM: I know how it is with you kids. It starts with a baudy rhyme, then it’s a little softshoe number, and before you know it, you’re seduced by all the glamour — the hot lights, the cool juleps, the fancy ladies.
TIMMY: [Now looking at his feet] Yeah, mom. It’s true. I’m sorry. I’ll throw out the greasepaint.
MOM: Timmy, sorry’s not good enough. Do you have anything else you’d like to tell me about?
TIMMY: [Suddenly a panicked look in his eyes as he glances at the hatbox on top of his boom box] No!
MOM: [Looks where he’s looking] No? [She walks over to the hat box, opens it and looks inside. She takes out…] A porkpie hat, Timmy? Is that what this is?
TIMMY: [Grabs the hat away from MOM, then runs out the door, tears streaming down his face.]
[CUT TO: a street corner. TIMMY, dressed in a striped jacket and wearing his porkpie hat, is doing a shuffling, awkward dance while the rain washes the eyeliner down his face. He has a straw top hat on the ground with a nickel in it in front of him as he sings,] Mmmmy little buttercup! Has the sweetest smiiiiile…
[FADE TO BLACK]