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[Sean Porter hits Roger weathers with his news paper]
Roger Weathers: Mr. Porter?
Sean Porter: Gettin' beatin' in the middle of the night. How'd you like it, Roger? Do you like it?
[Sean hits him again]
Roger Weathers: What'd you hit me for?
Sean Porter: What'd you hit Kelvin Owens for?
Roger Weathers: He dissed my hood!
Sean Porter: Now, he's out there asleep and you're stuck in here. So, what does that make you?
[Sean hits him again]
Roger Weathers: Hey, man, could you do that?
Sean Porter: Could I do what?
Roger Weathers: Be smacking me in shit.
[Sean hits him harder]
Sean Porter: I guess I can.
Roger Weathers: SHIT, man!!!
[Roger sits down on the floor, and Sean drops his newspaper on the floor]
Sean Porter: Roger, you're 17-years-old. Where are you gonna be in 4 years, huh?
Roger Weathers: I don't know.
Sean Porter: Answer me. Where are you gonna be when you're 21?
Roger Weathers: Probably in jail.
Sean Porter: What? Look at me! What did you say?
Roger Weathers: In jail.
Sean Porter: No. You're not gonna be in jail; you're gonna be dead.
[Sean bends down to talk with Roger]
Sean Porter: You're a good kid, Roger. But, you're gonna be back out on the streets tomorrow. Back in your hood with your homeys. You wanna stay alive, you gotta make a life for yourself outside of your set. If you don't do that, if you don't find an alternative, you're gonna die. If you want any kinda help, if you want to talk, I'm here for you.
[Sean stands up, grabs the newspaper and walks away]
Sean Porter: Think about it.