Bring It on Again Page #2

Oh, and excuse me.|Did you see her blond hair?

So fake!

Well, if that's not the pot|calling the kettle blond.

Ohh! I was...|I was born with dark roots.

Mm-hmm.

Well, anyway,|I'd be all over her.

- You know, if she had a schwinger.|- Maybe she does.

Enough.!

You two b*tches can catfight all night,|but I'm the one that makes the decisions.

Until I do...|you're dismissed.

Leave me.

Ow!

- No time for rest, cherub.|- Dean Sebastian.

I didn't know you were here.|I've been here six hours.

Saw every last peppy pigtail|that passed through this place.

Pretty ugly, huh?|Some were ugly.

Some were hideous.

While others were sublime.

I'm talking about|State's next head cheerleader.

Smith, comma, Whittier.

Whittier can't be head|cheerleader next year.

She's just a freshman. She's|just good is what she is.

But the head cheerleader spot|is reserved for Marni.

Tina! The State|cheerleading squad has won...

seven consecutive|national titles,

which over that time|has tripled alumni donations...

and allowed me the life|to which I am accustomed.

Just last year,|I upgraded...

from an '88 Jetta|to a 2003 Passat.

Wow. I'm not about to|throw all that away...

over some brown-nosing|mediocrity named Marni.

Whittier might have what it|takes, but she's awfully raw.

That, dear, is why|you must mold her.

Shape her. Twist her|like Silly Putty.

If you make her|half as great as you are,

the national title will|stay here for years to come.

Remember the school|motto... Whatever it takes.

I can't hear you.|Whatever it takes!

Welcome to the team.

Welcome to the team.

Welcome to the...|Oh, uh, this is size four.

Is that gonna be too|small for you? Kidding!

Kidding!|Get outta here.

Welcome to the team.|Wait! This isn't a uniform.

These are towels. You're|very perceptive, aren't you?

But aren't I on the team?

Of course you're on the team.|As a towel girl.

It's an honor.

How is it an honor?

Say there is no towel girl. Say|Greg hoists Tina up into a cupie,

and there is no one|to towel off his sweaty hands.

Tina slips. Tina falls and-and|lands on her spinal cord,

and she spends the rest of her life|doing watercolors with her teeth.

Do you want that to happen? I guess not.

Hmm.

I didn't think so.

Man, these colors are hype!|I am never taking this off.

Even after you're dead|in the ground? Totally.

Congratulations,|my little pumpkins.

You have now joined the|best of the best of the best.

Here's Marni|with some light reading.

Now, study those rule books and|wear those uniforms with pride.

People|have given their ankles,

ligaments,|collarbones...

in service to those very uniforms|you have on your taut little bodies.

'Cause from here on out you|must be the "bomb diggity."

You must eat leaner,|train meaner, jump higher,

yell louder and out-pep|anyone who stands in your way.

You must brush better, floss better,|lather, rinse and repeat better...

In other words, you must be better|in every aspect of your life.

Are you ready for all that?

- Whittier?|- Uh. Uh. Uh...

I'm gonna catch you|guys later. All right.

Is...

- Is everything okay up there?|- Again. Four, five, six, seven, eight.

Is everything okay up there?

Hey, you're|the orientation guy!

Yeah, Orientation Guy|is my given name.

But, um, it's not my real name.|My friends call me Derek.

Well, hi, Derek.|I'm Whittier.

Whittier?|I like it.

- It's nice.|- Thank you.

- You want to do something illegal?|- What?

Do you want to do|something illegal? Shut up.!

Uhh. Okay.

Really?

What kind of girl are you?|Stop!

Whoa!

No way. No. You're a cheerleader.|You get thrown three stories...

in the air every day. Tina would|kill me if I sprained an ankle.

Who's Tina?|Our head cheerleader.

She's got rules against this kind|of thing. It's all in the manual.

And you've|gotta follow the rules.

Well, do you see Tina|anywhere around here?

No.

Sorry. Are you okay?

Are we allowed|to be in here?

2:
00 a.m.'s|the only good time to swim.

The rest of the time,|I'm working. Where?

Well, I do work-study|in the cafeteria.

Part-time in an audio store.|Full-time as a student.

And the rest of the time|as a mix-master.

What's a mix-master?|It's a turn-tablist.

What's a turn-tablist?|It's a D.J.

I knew that.

Oh, hey. I'm not into you|like that. L...

No, I didn't... I...

Well, then I'm leaving.|I'm out. Okay. Fine. Fine.

It's over.|Okay. Well, okay...

Why do you work so much?|I work so much...

because my dad wouldn't pay my|tuition unless I declared premed.

And you didn't want to be|a doctor, so... So, I work.

Well, you know what they say|about men who work too hard.

They become|tired, boring...

and in the process they lose|all their spontaneity.

Derek, are you tired?

No. You're boring!

You are boring.

Boring, my ass!

Whoo!

God, you look great|under water.

Well, did I tell you|I'm a cheerleader?

Yeah.|I think we covered that.

Did we talk about|your 10,000 part-time jobs?

Yeah.|I think a while back.

Oh.

Well, was there anything else|that we needed to cover?

Well, there was...

one thing I wanted to...

I gotta go.|Wait, wait, wait.

Don't you|want to stay and,

you know, swim|a little more?

I think my roommate might be|getting worried about me.

Why would she be worried?

Because,

you're turning me|into a criminal.

Whit... Whittier, I could get|hypothermia without you here!

And five, six, seven, eight!

One, two, three, four,|five, six, seven, eight!

One! Girls, put your hands on your hips.

Suzy, how about suckin'|in the arm flab? Thank you.

Claire, sweetie, two|eyebrows are better than one.

Think I gave you the memo.|Oh, my God.! Monica.!

Time for some damage|control on that ass!

For a minute there, I thought I was looking|at a Hefty Bag full of chili dogs! Ha!

Greg.! How about|the happy cheer face now, huh?

This is my happy cheer face.

That's not|a happy smile!

That's a hate smile.

Is it that obvious, b*tch?|All right. Pop-off on two.

One, two and... down.

Five, six, seven, eight.!

One, two, three, four,|five, six, seven, again.!

One, two, three, four,|five, six, seven, again!

One, two, three, four... You suck|so much, I can't stand you! Again!

Go.! Faster, faster,|faster, faster, faster.!

Come on, you Sasquatch.!|Let's go.!

Come on, Monica.! Show me a herkie.!|Let's see it.! Let's see it.! What is that?

Push.|Push!

This weight is a car,

and it is pressed|on top of your mother!

Lift it off your mom!

Lift it off her!|Lift it off her!

Too late. She's dead.

What is this, a bowl ofJell-O|I'm looking at?

Whit, that water is not|from the French Alps!

Down for 10... And six|and seven and eight!

You guys are looking|so great today.

I'm just kidding.|You look like crap.

All right, Monica and Whittier,|get ready for a pop-off on four.

Hey, you wanna do a cradle|off the back? You want to?

Yeah.

Ready?|One, two, three, four.

What the hell was that?

I asked for a simple pop-off!|Was that a simple pop-off?

I'm very curious|to know, Monica.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes