Family Values

Jeremy never liked having to confront people about complaints he received, but with so many anonymous submissions, he felt obligated to follow up. He rang the bell and waited, looking straight ahead at the door in front of him. After less than a minute of waiting, the door opened to reveal a middle-aged looking woman with hair past her waist. She smiled warmly.

"Hello," she said cheerfully. "Can I help you?"

"Hello," Jeremy replied. "I'm Jeremy Evans. I'm with Child Protective Services and I'm looking for the parents of Grover Wright."

"Oh my," the woman said, suddenly looking very concerned. "I'm Grover's mother, Verona. What's this all about?"

"We've received numerous complaints about about Grover's treatment," Jeremy said, perhaps a little too cold and business-like. "I'm here to verify the validity of those complaints."

Verona was taken aback. "I can assure you that Grover's father and I are trying to raise Grover the best that we can. Who registered the complaints?"

"All of the complaints were anonymous," Jeremy said, "but even if they weren't, I'm not allowed to tell you. Do you mind if I come in and ask you a few questions?"

"Of course not," Verona said without hesitation. "We have nothing to hide. I'm sure that once we've talked you'll see that these complaints are completely unfounded." She opened the door and showed Jeremy inside. Once they were seated across from each other at the kitchen table, Jeremy reviewed the paperwork attached to his clipboard.

"Now," Jeremy said, "one complaint we've received multiple times is that Grover is not bathed regularly. How often does he receive a bath?"

"That's up to him," Verona said, matter-of-factly. "Grover's father and I do our best to not have him influenced by outside sources, whether from us or from society as a whole. We want him to find his own way in the world."

Jeremy looked dumbfounded. "What? He's five years old. If you let him decide how to run his life, he'd never eat anything but candy."

"Not at all," Verona said. "Grover certainly enjoys candy, but he also loves eating fresh produce from our garden. He constantly helps in the garden and we can tell that he has a sense of pride from eating the literal fruits of his labors."

"Okay," Jeremy said, trying to get the conversation back on track, "but that still doesn't answer the question of how often Grover is bathed."

Verona thought for a moment before replying. "Oh, about once a week or so. Grover does enjoy bathtime, but he has so many other pursuits that he doesn't always get to it."

Jeremy made a note on one of the forms attached to his clipboard. "At his age, once a week is adequate. We've also received some complaints about him using foul language to other children in the neighborhood."

"Oh," Verona said, looking mildly embarrassed. "My husband is fan of the filmmaker Quentin Tarantino and he has watched many of his films with Grover. I suspect that he was just quoting a line from one of them."

"Those movies have hard R ratings," Jeremy said; "they're not appropriate for children."

"If you review the MPAA ratings system," Verona replied a little smugly, "you'll find that R ratings are for no child younger than 17 unless accompanied by a parent. I'll admit that I don't care for those films, but Grover enjoys watching them with his father, who is always present."

Giving up on that complaint, Jeremy reviewed his paperwork to find another topic. "We've received numerous complaints that Grover is often seen outside naked, sometimes relieving himself. Does that happen?"

"Absolutely," Verona replied without hesitation. "Although, we only allow him to do so in the backyard, which is surrounded by a wooden fence, so if people are watching it happen, I believe that makes peeping toms."

"Is Grover toilet-trained?" Jeremy asked, no longer surprised by what the woman across from him was saying.

"Mostly. He still has accidents from time to time, but he's getting there."

"If he's toilet-trained," Jeremy said, "why do you allow him to relieve himself outside? That will only make it harder for him to learn to use the bathroom."

Up until this point, Verona had been nothing but friendly and cheerful. Now, however, she suddenly became very serious and a little annoyed. "My parents raised me to be Christian, just like them. I was only a child, so I was very impressionable. They took me to church every week and regularly forced me and my siblings to read from the Bible. It wasn't until I was in college when I learned that all religion is a sham meant to control the masses.

"I don't want Grover to go through the same thing I did. I refuse to force him to have the same values that I have, even if that means that he decides to become religious. Honestly, the very idea of him going to mass or what-have-you makes me nauseated, but I would still support him if that's what he wants. That means that I let him make his own decisions. If he wants to run around outside while naked, who does that harm?"

Jeremy nodded, finally understanding. "Look, I get it. You want him to be his own person."

"Yes!" Verona responded, her cheerful enthusiasm having returned.

"But," Jeremy continued, "he's still only five years old. You have to teach to do things to do things that are good for him, even if it's not what he likes. You may be mad at your parents for 'forcing' their values on you, but how will Grover feel when he goes off to college and can't sit through an entire class because he doesn't know how to hold his bladder? Or how will he find a job when he shows up to an interview in desperate need of a shower? I know you think these things will take care of themselves, but they won't. I've seen kids living in squalor because they don't know any better. I can tell your heart's in the right place, so I won't take any action today. But I need you to make some serious changes to how Grover is being cared for."

Verona protested, saying that forcing her to act as a dictator to her son was fascist, but she ultimately acquiesced. Jeremy left with an appointment to return to check on things in a month. He was showing leniency, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for the kid, Grover. His parents were so afraid of encroaching on his development that they were actually hindering it. Thankfully, Grover was still young enough that his parents' misguided approach to parenting probably hadn't done any permanent damage.

With that taken care of, he got in his car and drove to his next appointment.

Humilia

INT. OF AN APARTMENT. A man in his mid-twenties is primping in front of a mirror in a bathroom. He’s wearing artificially distressed jeans and an Ed Hardy t-shirt beneath an unbuttoned dress shirt with the collar “popped.” He sprays himself with an excessive amount of body spray before putting on a trilby (a short-brimmed fedora).

MAN: [pointing to himself in the mirror with both hands] Look out, ladies: the man of your dreams is coming for you!

The shot becomes a freeze-frame and becomes black and white. We hear the man from earlier speaking in voice over.

MAN: [VO only] Does this look familiar to you? Perhaps this reminds you of yourself or someone you know.

CUT to the man from earlier in front of a blank, white background. He is now dressed in a solid-colored sweater and khaki pants.

MAN: That was me three months ago. Pretty obnoxious, right? It turns out, I didn’t have any shame.

CUT to an animation of a human brain as the man continues speaking. The animation portrays what the man is describing.

MAN: [VO only] Shame is produced when the chemical mediocris ignominiam is released by the amygdala. Unfortunately, some people don’t produce enough shame and often become, like, just the worst. Thankfully, Humilia can help. Humilia increases the production of shame to normal levels.

CUT to a montage of the man interacting with people in various situations in an amiable way: talking to friends in a restaurant, walking a dog while accompanying a woman, turning his phone off while waiting for a movie to start, etc. During the montage, a female announcer is heard.

ANNOUNCER [VO only]: Humilia is for those who struggle with feeling adequate levels of shame in their life. Most users reported feeling ashamed of their past decisions in as little two weeks. Side effects include being polite to members of the opposite sex, feeling uncomfortable when hearing racist jokes, having better taste in movies and TV shows, no longer bragging about your honestly unimpressive bench press max, seizures, and death. Humilia is not for children or foreigners.

CUT to the man in a bar.

MAN: [to camera] With Humilia, I can actually interact with people like a normal, healthy human being. [To a woman sitting at bar] Hi, I’m Chad. What’s your name?

CUT to a splashy Humilia logo. The chemical name of Humilia, desinas irrumator, should appear in parentheses.

ANNOUNCER: [VO only] Ask your doctor if Humilia is right for you.

END