Welcome to the Dollhouse

I was walking home
from rehearsal.

I'd missed my car pool.
And I was waiting at the street corner
for the light to change.

All of a sudden a dark car
pulled up beside me...

and a big man
stepped out.

He was older...
and good looking.
And, um...
And he had a tattoo
on his chest.

And then the next thing
I know, he, um...

Students, I'm telling you
this story...

Now what exactly
did you do, Dawn?

- I shot a spitball.
- Speak up. I can't hear you.

I shot a spitball.
- You shot a what?
- She shot a spitball.

- A teacher was almost blinded.
- I was fighting back.

Whoever told you
to fight back?

Dawn, are you having
social problems?

Yes. She's got no friends.
- I've got friends.
- Who?

Case closed.
She's a loner.

Dawn, let me put it to you straight.
We're not here to get you.

But you've got to understand,
you're in junior high now.

This goes in the computer
on your record.

Couple of years, this kind of incident
goes on your college transcript.

Any questions?