The Breakfast Club Monologues

Five high school students meet in Saturday detention and discover how they have a lot more in common than they thought.

Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois, 60062. Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed.

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…

And the bizarre thing is that I did it for my old man. I tortured this poor kid because I wanted him to think that I was cool. He's always going off about how when he was in school and all the wild things he used to do. And I got the feeling that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anyone, right? So I'm sitting in the locker room and I'm taping up my knee, and Larry's undressing a couple lockers down from me. And he's kinda, he's kinda skinny. Weak. And I started thinkin' about my father, and his attitude about, about weakness. And the next thing I knew, I jumped on top of him and started whaling on him. And my friends, they just laughed and cheered me on. And afterwards, when I'm sitting in Vernon's office, all I could think about was Larry's father and Larry having to go home and explain what happened to him. And the humiliation - the fucking humiliation he must have felt. It must have been unreal. I mean, how… how do you apologize for something like that? There's no way. It's all because of me and my old man. God, I fucking hate him. He's like this mindless machine that I can't even relate to anymore.

'Andrew! You've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family! Your intensity is for shit! Win! Win! Win!' You son of a bitch. You know, sometimes I wish my knee would give. And I wouldn't be able to wrestle anymore. And he could forget all about me.

I'm not a winner because I want to be one. I'm a winner because I've got strength and speed... kinda like a racehorse. It's about how involved I am in what's happening to me.