I picture the mom coming home from working late, finding her teenage son in the living room with the dvd copy of Juno she had hidden in an air vent. Tears streaming down his face as he holds it up and demands to know what it is and what it means. Then the mom digs an old stale loose cigarette from the bottom of her purse and lights it up, sitting down quietly and shaking. She puts her head in her hands. They sit in silence for half an hour while the son quietly sobs.