Flashback. 1986.

Regina: Dude. Lena. What're you doin' on Saturday night?
Lena: Ha. Very funny.
Regina: Huh?
Lena: That's funny. You're not usually this funny before Algebra. Heh.
Regina: What the fuck are you talking about?
Lena: Saturday. "What're you doin' on Saturday night?" Heh. Hilarious.
Regina: Uh. I wasn't trying to be funny, Lena. I realize this might come as quite a shock to you. Me being funny and all without trying.
Lena: Uh. What?
Regina: What. Are. You. Doing. On. Saturday. Night? It's a fairly simple question.
Lena: Are you high?
Regina: Yes, Lena. I'm high. I'm an eighteen-year-old cynic who abhors most of her peers. I'm a likely candidate for ganja.
Lena: Sorry. I forgot.
Regina: So?
Lena: "So" what?
Regina: Work with me, Lena. Saturday. Do you have plans?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: Yeah?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: What?
Lena: It's the prom on Saturday, Reg.
Regina: Prom? We have a prom?
Lena: Okay. Now you're being funny.
Regina: The Prom is on Saturday night?
Lena: Shhh.
Regina: OUR PROM IS ON SATURDAY NIGHT?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: AS IN TWO DAYS FROM NOW?
Lena: Dude. DUDE.
Regina: [quietly] Okay. Lemme get this straight. The prom. This Saturday.
Lena: [warily] Yeeeesss...
Regina: [dangerous whisper] As in the prom that I have not been asked to?
Lena: [searching for exit] Uh, yeah. That's the one.
Regina: [deadly] Yeah.
Lena: [nervously] You okay?
Regina: [anything to the contrary] Mm-hm.
Lena: [tentatively approaching] Reg?
Regina: [blankly staring] Yuh?
Lena: You okay?
Regina: [straightening up] Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sure. Fine. Great. Fabulous.
Lena: [hesitantly] Okaaaay...
Regina: Why wouldn't I be fine? Hm? I mean, really? I've just not been invited to the single most [screaming at the top of her lungs] IMPORTANT EVENT OF MY FUCKING HIGH-SCHOOL CAREER BECAUSE NOT ONE OF THE EMOTIONAL REPROBATES AT THIS SCHOOL CAN GET IT UP LONG ENOUGH TO MUSTER THE COURAGE TO ASK ME TO WEAR A STUPID OVER-PRICED SATIN DRESS AND DANCE TO "SHOUT" WHILE THEY PUKE ALL OVER THE FLOWER ARRANGEMENTS.

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