We open on a scene in New York City. It is late Summer and the heat is suffocating. Some neighborhood kids have opened a fire hydrant and are squealing as the cold water hits them. In side one of the many bathrooms at New York University, a scrawny young man with unruly brown hair wrestles with a plunger and wishes he could be outside enjoying the cold water.

“Come on, you little piece of-”

He is about to launch into a slue of swear words when it gives away and sends him flying out of the stall and nearly into the sink.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” he grumbles as he picks himself up.

The young plumber is, at first, too busy rubbing his elbows that slammed against the floor to notice the sound of running water. As the pain dulls he becomes aware that his shoes are wet.

“Huh?”

Nervously, he looks for the source of the water.

“Oh shit...”

We cut to him running out of the bathroom and yelling-

“I didn’t do it!”

He runs right past an older man. He scowls and then walks into the bathroom. Less than a minute later he is also running out.

“JACK!!!”

A few hours later the same young man stumbles into a dorm room. His clothes are sopping wet and he smells... Well... Rather unpleasant.

“Nothing is worth this,” he mumbles as he strips in hallway of his room.

After a shower Jack returns to the matter of his clothes. He wrinkles his nose.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that this is my uniform I’d torch it all right now.”

He walks out of view for a moment and returns with a garbage and proceeds to shove the clothes in it. He holds bag away from himself and heads out the door.

“And I’m off to the laundry room,” he announces to no one.

We find Jack throwing his clothes into a washing machine and getting weird looks from the other people there. He gets irritated with them.

“Yeah, I know my clothes smell- That’s why I’m washing them. Any more questions?”

Everyone suddenly tries to appear very busy. Jack just rolls his eyes and takes a seat on his washing machine. He opens a magazine, looking quite at home where he is.

No one takes notice of this- I mean, he is using B4... Doesn’t work unless you sit on it.

25 minutes pass and the washer is finished. Jack closes his magazine and hops off the machine. He looks for an empty dryer but there are none to be found. He stands there with an armload of wet clothing, trying to figure out what he should do. He notices a very prim and proper young man reading The Wall Street Journal at a nearby table, waiting for his laundry to dry. Jack has an evil idea as he plops down next to the man.

“How ya doin’?” he throws down his wet clothes on the table.

The man looks up from his paper, stares at the clothes, and, then, sniffs disdainfully at Jack, “Hello.”

Jack lays on the stupid slob act even thicker, “My name’s Jack McCoy. What’s your’s?”

“Better Than You,” he smugly replies.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I mean, you get to sit and read Shakespeare while I play in raw sewage.”

Stuck-up guy starts turning a little green, “‘Raw’ what?”

“Sewage. Ya know- shit.”

Stuck-up starts to edge away from Jack. Jack decides to go the extra mile.

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t same it’s all shit. There’s vomit, the occasional glob of hair, and other interesting liquids but mostly shit.”

Stuck-up can’t take it any more. He gets up, removes his damp laundry from the dryer, and practically runs out of the room. Jack smiles at this and casually throws his own laundry into Stuck-up’s former dryer.

“There’s one born every minute,” he mumbles happily as he closes the door and sets the machine for one hour.

One week before classes began and this was already turning out to be an interesting school year.