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Jones heads to some office to ask some administrator about Naomi and Oil Derrick, as if these people have nothing better to do or would even give out information about former students to complete strangers. But the guy's all helpful and smiley until she mentions Naomi's name. He doesn't ask if this is some sick joke, but does suddenly remember that he can't give out information about former students, and ushers Jones out of the office. Jones makes a note of some computer clerk that has watched the entire exchange. Then Jones lurks outside (as if a school would allow that) and confronts the woman when she leaves work for the day. The clerk wonders how Jones heard about the incident with Naomi, because it hasn't been talked about in a long time and never even made the local papers. Jones plays the prole card and natters on about how the rich can get away with anything. The clerk agrees and says she knows all sorts of stories about what goes on at the school. She offers the clerk a cigarette, the international sign of brotherhood for the revolution, and asks the clerk if she'll tell her what the deal is with Naomi. The clerk takes the cigarette and smiles. But don't go thinking we're going to hear the story. Because, really, I think it's much more important to see what Travis is up to right now, don't you? He's taking photographs of his "art," which is amusing, as his "art" is merely reproductions of other photos and images. He seems to derive his inspiration from Xerox, not Picasso. Jones comes stumbling in, demanding to talk to him. Travis tells her he's busy, so she gets his attention by ripping off part of his huge image of Naomi. He's not particularly perturbed, as his "art" is so easily reproduced simply by pressing Control-P. Jones storms over to Oil Derrick's bedroom and tosses open the door. Oil Derrick is reading a book in bed, and Jones imperiously declares that he raped Naomi in high school, and used her and Travis in order to rape her again. Oil Derrick doesn't even get angry at the accusation. He smiles an oily little smile and says they all could use a drink as he gets out of bed. But for once, booze won't soothe Jones. She says she talked to somebody who was there. Oil Derrick inquires who that might be; Jones explains that the clerk told her all about it. Oil Derrick points out that she was taking the word of a complete stranger who had heard something in passing. You know, that mysterious "gossip" thing. So many layers to this film.