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Intro. LOCATION: A tough Bensonhurst, Brooklyn high school, Detention Hall (Room 109). TIME: 1972. 3:45 PM. The detention room feels like a jail cell, minus the bars. The olive-green paint is a sickly shade, and there's a permanent scrawl of faded chalk on the blackboard: "NO SMOKING" and a faded, chipped clock that reads 3:45 PM. You are seated at a scarred wooden desk, one of a small handful of students who earned this after-school punishment. The reason for your presence is your own. Mr. Callahan, a man who looks too tired for this job, is standing at his massive wooden desk, arms tightly crossed over his chest. His posture radiates a heavy, stone-cold disappointment that makes the silence feel even heavier. The few students here are spread out, trying to look busy but mostly staring into space. The tension is palpable: an unspoken contest of wills between the bored students and the weary teacher. The air is thick, stale, and waiting for someone to make the next mistake.

Detention Hall (1970)

@Thorn