When asked to respond, Kenneth Storm refused, stating, “This is bullshit.”

Further prodding from Professor Devane produced “What the hell do you expect me to say?”

At that point, the graduate student, Casey Locking, entered the dialogue: “Look, guy, I'm a man but I don't have any sympathy for men who rough up women. If what she says is true, you've got a lesson to learn and you're lucky to be learning it young. If you disagree, speak up. But if you choose not to defend yourself, don't complain later.”

Storm responded with “a train of expletives.”

Then, surprisingly, Cynthia Vespucci seemed to have a change of heart: “Okay, okay, let's just have nothing to do with each other. Let's just end this.” [Crying]

PROF. DEVANE: Here's a tissue, Ms. Vespucci.

MS. VESPUCCI: I'm okay. Let's just forget it.

PROF. DEVANE: Are you sure, Ms. Vespucci?

MS. VESPUCCI: I don't know.

PROF. DEVANE: When you came to me you were very upset.

MS. VESPUCCI: I know. [Starting to cry] But I… now I want to stop it. Okay? Please?

PROF. DEVANE: Of course. We're out for your best interests. You should remember, though, that a process has been set into motion.

MR. STORM: I don't believe this! She said end it! What're you going to do, kick me out? Fine, do it, go ahead and fucking do it, I don't give a shit about you or this place or-

MR. LOCKING: Take it easy, man-

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.

MS. VESPUCCI: But then I told you I did want to get back in and you just drove away!

MR. STORM: I didn't hear you.

MS. VESPUCCI: You weren't that far away!

MR. STORM: Read my lips, Cindy: I did not hear you. I'd already asked you ten times and you refused so I split. This is rank, Cindy. You set me up and you know it and now your mom's going to know it.

PROF. DEVANE: There's no call for threats-

MR. STORM: What do you think this is? Fuck this place-

MS. VESPUCCI: I'm sorry, I'm sorry- I'm sorry, Professor Devane, but I want to stop this. Now! Please!

PROF. STEINBERGER: Perhaps-

PROF. DEVANE: Cindy, right now you're under a lot of stress and pressure. This isn't the right time to make important decisions.

MS. VESPUCCI: I don't care, I want to stop this! I'm leaving. [Exits]

MR. STORM: [Laughs] What now?

PROF. DEVANE: Is there something more you want to say for yourself, sir?

MR. STORM: Not for myself. For you- to you: Fuck you, lady! And you, too, clown- don't like it, man? Come on outside and get it on.

MR. LOCKING: You have no idea who you're dealing-

MR. STORM: Then come on out, brain-boy. Come on- hah, bullshit walks- fuck you, fuck this college and this bullshit left-wing garbage. I'm phoning my dad, he's in real estate, knows lots of lawyers. He's going to have your asses for breakfast. [Exits]

A note by the University lawyers indicated that Kenneth Storm Sr., an alumnus and member of the Chancellor's Associates, had indeed contacted an attorney, Pierre Bateman, who, four weeks later, drafted a letter of complaint to the University demanding immediate dissolution of the conduct committee, a written apology, and one hundred thousand dollars for Kenneth Storm Jr. The young man had dropped out of the University and applied for transfer to the College of the Palms, in Redlands. The University lawyers noted that his first-quarter grade point average had been 1.7 and that he'd been on academic probation. His second-quarter marks were no better and he was on the verge of flunking out. Nevertheless, it was deemed advisable to settle and a deal was worked out: The Storm family agreed to drop the matter in return for payment of Kenneth Jr.'s tuition for three and a half years at the College of the Palms.


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