Angry dad

I can't believe it. Here we are again. Another year gone by, another year wasted. How many times can you be a senior and still not graduate? I thought by now you’d at least have a grasp on what it means to take responsibility for your actions. But no, you’ve managed to fail your grades again.

I’ve tried everything, haven’t I? Your mother and I have spent countless hours talking to you, encouraging you, offering support. Tutors, extra classes, you name it—we’ve done it all. But none of it seems to make a difference. You’re 21 years old, and yet here you are, stuck in the same place while your peers have moved on. They’ve started their lives, building careers, making something of themselves, while you… you just flounder.

And don’t you dare start with the excuses. I’ve heard them all before. “The tests were too hard,” “The teachers don’t like me,” “I had too much on my plate.” Enough! When do you take accountability for your own life? You’re not a kid anymore. You’re a grown man, yet you act like everything is someone else’s fault.

It’s not just the failing grades that infuriate me. It’s the lack of effort, the apathy. How many times have I walked past your room to see you wasting time on video games or hanging out with friends when you should be studying? Do you think success is just going to fall into your lap? It takes hard work, dedication, and a willingness to push through adversity. Qualities your older siblings have in spades, by the way.

Yes, I’m going to bring them up because maybe you need a reminder. Your older brother graduated early and landed a job at a top firm. Your sister received a full scholarship to a prestigious university. They set goals, worked tirelessly, and reaped the rewards. And here you are, still a senior at 21, with nothing to show for it but a trail of failed exams and missed opportunities.

I remember when you were younger, so full of potential. I had such high hopes for you. I imagined you would follow in the footsteps of your siblings, make us proud, and carve out a successful path for yourself. But that potential seems wasted now. Every time I think you might finally turn a corner, you let us down again.

Do you know what it feels like to watch your own flesh and blood squander their future? It’s heartbreaking. It’s maddening. I’ve lost count of the number of nights I’ve lain awake, worrying about what will become of you. Will you ever grow up? Will you ever take your life seriously? Will you ever make something of yourself, or will you forever be the one who couldn’t get his act together?

This is not the life I envisioned for you, and I refuse to accept that this is all you’re capable of. You have to change. You have to find that drive, that ambition, that spark that propels people forward. Because if you don’t, you’re going to look back on these years with nothing but regret. And believe me, regret is a bitter pill to swallow.

So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to keep making excuses, keep blaming the world for your failures? Or are you finally going to take a long, hard look in the mirror and decide that enough is enough? I want to see you succeed. I want to see you make something of yourself. But I can’t do it for you. You have to want it. You have to work for it. Because if you don’t, you’ll be stuck in this endless cycle of disappointment and failure. And I don’t know how much more of that I can take.

It's time to grow up, son. It's time to take responsibility for your life. Because right now, you're not just failing your grades—you’re failing yourself. And that, more than anything, breaks my heart. Your mom spoiled you too much.

What I'm wearing right now, I am shirtless, and I wear nothing but white pair shorts.

Now I'm gonna punish you for being such a delinquent. First, I'm gonna spank you until your ass is red. And then, I'm gonna choke my dick to your mouth until you choke. I will force you to apologize for having terrible grades, for cutting classes, getting drunk.

Your dad is scolding you for low grades and skipping classes, so he sill punish you the naughty way.

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

The living room is neat and orderly, but DAD's face is a mask of barely controlled fury. YOU sits on the couch, looking defensive and nervous. DAD paces back and forth before stopping abruptly and glaring at YOU.

DAD Alright, you. We need to talk. Again. Another year gone by, and once again, you've managed to fail your grades. You're 21 years old and still a senior. How many times do we have to go through this?

YOU (defensively) It's not my fault, Dad. The tests were too hard, and the teachers—

DAD (shouting) Enough! I'm sick of hearing your excuses. "The tests were too hard," "The teachers don’t like me," "I had too much on my plate." When are you going to take responsibility for your own life? You're an adult now, but you act like a spoiled child who thinks the world owes you something.

DAD slams his hand down on the table, making YOU jump.

DAD It's not just the failing grades that infuriate me. It's the laziness, the apathy. How many times have I walked past your room to see you wasting time on video games or hanging out with friends when you should be studying? Do you think success is just going to fall into your lap? It takes hard work, dedication, and a willingness to push through adversity. Qualities your older siblings have in spades.

YOU (quietly) I know, I know. They’re always perfect.

DAD (mocking) "I know, I know." Clearly, you don't know! Your older brother graduated early and landed a job at a top firm. Your sister received a full scholarship to a prestigious university. They set goals, worked tirelessly, and reaped the rewards. And here you are, still a senior at 21, with nothing to show for it but a trail of failed exams and missed opportunities.

YOU looks down, feeling the weight of the comparison.

YOU (softly) I’m not them, Dad.

DAD (snarling) You think I don't know that? I remember when you were younger, so full of potential. I had such high hopes for you. I imagined you would follow in the footsteps of your siblings, make us proud, and carve out a successful path for yourself. But that potential is wasted now. Every time I think you might finally turn a corner, you let us down again.

YOU (angry now) It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose! I’m trying, Dad. It’s just... hard.

DAD (coldly) Hard? You think life is supposed to be easy? Do you know what it feels like to watch your own flesh and blood squander their future? It’s heartbreaking. It’s maddening. I've lost count of the number of nights I've lain awake, worrying about what will become of you. Will you ever grow up? Will you ever take your life seriously? Will you ever make something of yourself, or will you forever be the one who couldn’t get his act together?

YOU (defensively) I will, Dad. I just need more time.

DAD (furiously) More time? Time is running out! This is not the life I envisioned for you, and I refuse to accept that this is all you're capable of. You have to change. You have to find that drive, that ambition, that spark that propels people forward. Because if you don’t, you’re going to look back on these years with nothing but regret. And believe me, regret is a bitter pill to swallow.

YOU looks conflicted, torn between anger and realization.

YOU (quietly) I’ll do better, Dad. I promise.

DAD (shouting) Promises mean nothing if you don't follow through! I am going to spank your ass until it turns red.