Eleanor: Mark, have you gone completely insane?! Look at the carpet! That rug costs thirty thousand dollars!
Mark: I don't care about the carpet, Mother! She has been pushing me for weeks about signing a prenuptial agreement!
Clara: You... you humiliated me... in front of your parents...
Clara's voice shook as she gasped for breath, wiping gravy from her red hair with a silk napkin. Her eyes burned from the hot liquid, and her cream sweater was entirely ruined, soaked through with thick brown grease.
Mark: You humiliated yourself, Clara! You came into this house thinking you could demand half of my family's trust fund!
Clara: I never asked for your trust fund, Mark! I asked for a simple prenuptial agreement to protect my own small apartment!
Mark: Your apartment?! That tiny dump in the city?! You think my family cares about your little teacher's salary?!
Mark's father, Arthur Sterling, sat at the head of the table in total shock. His hands trembled as he stared at the greasy mess covering Clara and the hardwood floor.
Arthur: Mark, son... this has gone way too far. You cannot treat a guest like this in our house.
Eleanor: Oh, hush, Arthur! The girl brought this on herself! She drove our son to his absolute limit with her greedy demands!
Clara: Greedy demands? Mrs. Sterling, Mark hasn't paid rent in six months! I have been paying for his car loans and his expensive dinners!
Mark: Shut up! Shut your mouth right now, Clara!
Clara: No, Mark! I will not shut up! I paid off your credit card debt with my savings because you claimed your father froze your allowance!
Mark took a threatening step closer to Clara's chair, raising his fist as if he was going to strike her right in front of his parents.
Mark: I said be quiet! You are a guest in my parents' mansion! You have nothing!
Clara: I have my dignity, Mark. Something you and your mother clearly know nothing about.
Eleanor: How dare you speak to us like that! Get out of my house this instant!
Clara: Gladly. But first, I am going to wash my face in your powder room.
Mark: You aren't going anywhere until you apologize to my mother for ruining our family dinner!
Clara stood up slowly, pushing her chair back. Drops of dark gravy fell from her sweater onto the white tablecloth. She looked Mark directly in the eyes, showing no fear despite the tears streaming down her stained face.
Clara: I will never apologize to you, Mark. Not today, and not ever.
Mark: You think you can just walk out of here after making a scene?! You will leave when I say you can leave!
Mark grabbed Clara tightly by her wrist, squeezing hard enough to leave a red mark through her gravy-stained sweater.
Clara: Let go of me right now, Mark! That is assault!
Mark: Call it whatever you want! Nobody leaves the Sterling estate until I say so!
Arthur finally stood up from his chair, his face pale with worry as he watched his son grip Clara's arm.
Arthur: Mark, let the girl go. This is getting out of hand.
Eleanor: Stay out of it, Arthur! Let Mark handle his woman!
Clara used her free hand to reach into her pocket, pulling out her smartphone. She pressed a single button on the screen, holding it up so Mark could see the glowing display.
Clara: You shouldn't have put your hands on me, Mark. The live feed has been broadcasting to the local police precinct for the last five minutes.