Wild Child Page #2

- She means no home

clothes for a week.

Like I give a sh*t.

- I'll be gone by then.

- Language.

Two Sundays detention.

For the whole dorm.

I'll deal with this.

Look, hey. Hey.

Here's a Ben Franklin.

Why don't you go out

and buy yourself...

Well, anything.

Whatever you get...

will be a serious improvement.

Three Sundays. For everyone.

- Thanks a lot for

that, you utter moron.

What are you, mental?

What? She was a

grade one a-hole...

with a severe

attitudinal problem.

The bell's going

to go in a minute.

Just put your uniform on.

Now.

You will never get away

with that uniform, for start,

and FYI, no

drinking, no smoking,

no alcohol.

No fireworks, no

dangerous weapons,

no illegal drugs.

If you have a

problem with someone,

no random bitching.

Structure your point.

No Web surfing, no bullying.

So, if you behave

like an arsehole,

we all suffer, so do not

get us in your sh*t...

- or we will break you.

- Oh, I'm scared.

- Hi, Kate. Hi, how

are you? Hi, Kate.

Hello.

What are you, like,

prom queen or something?

Kate's got a

terrible affliction.

You're actually lucky

that you don't have it.

It's called popularity.

Hey, get up.

Wait for Mrs. Kingsley

and the prefects.

Screw them.

That's physical abuse.

I'm calling my lawyer.

With what?

Well, hello, Freddie.

How kind of you to grace us

with your gorgeous presence.

And cue Harriet in

three, two, one...

- Subject's moved

in on target.

And we have contact.

- Walk, Annabelle.

- Walk, Annabelle.

I love that Freddie's

always here...

at the beginning of term.

Such a perfect welcome back.

- So, who is Freddie?

- Mrs. Kingsley's son.

Devastating heartthrob.

Won't look at any of us

since he got caught...

playing doctors and

nurses with a girl...

in the third grade

when he was 11.

Massive hoo-hah.

- They're not

together now, though.

'Cause of her massive hoo-hah?

No. Fraternizing is forbidden.

Here you go.

- I can't eat this.

- Anorexia or bulimia?

Because if it's

bulimia we'd rather...

you didn't eat other

people's birthday cake...

on their birthdays.

It's such a waste.

Actually, I'm a pescetarian

Monday through Wednesday,

fruitarian Thursday

through Sunday...

and vegetarian always.

For what we are

about to receive...

Amen.

- Get out of the way.

Hey, watch the

shmere, girlfriend.

Two hundred goats

died for this.

We meet again. How sublime.

Learn the rules.

When it comes to right of way,

there is a hierarchy.

Teachers, prefects, scholars,

dogs, vermin, Americans.

Kate? See to it

she falls in line.

What is this place? Hogwarts?

- Bedtime, girls.

- Night.

The correct school

uniform. Wear it. Bed.

Poppy Moore, bed. Now.

Right.

Translation today, everyone.

So, PDF, pretty damn

straightforward.

Ergo, which means?

Anyone? Ergo?

- Oh, Mr. Nellist.

- Yes, Drippy.

- 'Er, leave'?

Luddite. No, it means

therefore, Drippy.

Therefore, you'll

probably finish early,

which means that you'll

have lots of time...

to ask me questions

about my trip...

to Champagne with

my girlfriend.

Now, sadly, my ex-girlfriend.

Though she was my

girlfriend at the time.

Put the headphones on, please.

Hi, guys. You don't happen...

to have any eyebrow

tint, do you?

No.

Do you guys have

any eyebrow tints?

Apparently, California

girls wax their bums.

What? Why?

To look Brazilian.

Makes it more attractive.

If you say so.

- Do you think she's done it?

- Hundred percent.

She's definitely done

the missionary...

and almost certainly

the Lebanese fulcrum.

- I can tell.

- How?

From the angle of her hips.

Can I help you?

- Is there a problem?

How many boys

have you shagged?

Well, there was

Brandon, eight-pack.

Chase, jock.

Tyler. Bajillionaire. Derek.

He was Kelly Slater's cousin.

And, oh, Jack. He

was all-around sick.

- Christ.

- I mean sick body, sick mind.

- Sh*t. Kate.

Sorry, Drip. It looked

lighter on the box.

That is butters.

Better not stop me

pulling at the social.

Honey, eyebrows are the least

of your worries.

Lights out, girls.

Everyone into bed.

- Night, Matron.

- Night.

- Hey, switch that off.

No wireless.

Should have known.

Internet is only allowed

in the computer room.

Whoa. We are not allowed

out of bed after lights out.

- Oh, look. They're not out.

- Hey.

What are you doing?

- Come back.

- Get back into bed.

Dear Ruby, oh, my God.

Two weeks in this place...

and I'm going out of my mind.

These girls are

all ugly losers...

who think a mani-pedi...

is some kind of

Latin greeting.

Mmm.

Ew.

- Come on. Fire practice.

- Sh*t.

Remove yourselves

to the quad immediately.

Come on.

You know the drill,

for goodness sakes.

Come on, stop

being so slovenly.

Hurry up. Kiki.

Come on, girls. Hurry up.

What if there was a real fire?

We'll all be

burned to a crisp.

Hey, who's there?

Poppy.

- Last name?

- Moore. Poppy Moore, sir.

Well, Moore, Poppy Moore,

this is a fire practice.

- Sorry, I'm new here.

- Yes, that's obvious.

But weren't you listening

in physics class?

Fire tends to be hot,

and the point is to avoid it.

Okay. Where do I go?

Out the door,

turn left, and

down the stairs.

Run towards the bright orange

flickery thing. Right?

- Oh, and try not

to get caught.

Excellent point, sir.

Lovely, Harriet.

Ew.

Crack on, team. Lovely

stick work, Harriet.

Hi.

- Hello, Mr. Nellist.

- Hello, hello.

Well, super, super effort.

We may not win

the championships,

but we'll win a lot

of friends, yeah?

So bloody English.

Really. And you

could do better?

Laugh it up, but I could whip

all of your asses blindfolded.

This I'd love to see.

Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.

Do your worst, horse face.

Foul. Body check. Body check.

Please.

- Perfectly legal.

Shouldn't you guys be

in bikinis for that?

Hi, Fredster. Dig the car.

- Hello, Moore. Poppy Moore.

- Hi.

Hey.

Bye.

Ooh, do you love Fredster?

- Do you want to kiss

Fredster on the lips?

Don't be so immature.

Don't try and hide it, honey.

We've got ourselves a SULA.

Sweaty Upper Lip Alert.

How on Earth did

Freddie know her name?

You may depart.

- But, I still have to

turn down your bed.

Get out.

I don't understand.

Freddie's got a crush on me.

Why was he looking at her?

He was looking at her...

so he didn't come across

as looking at you.

He needs to be careful.

He can't get caught.

Yeah, and if he looked

at you too much,

he wouldn't be able

to control himself.

Like, when I have to look

sad, I think about...

horses being slaughtered.

So to Freddie, Poppy's

the equivalent...

of a slaughtered horse.

You're probably right.

But we're going to have

to do something...

about little Miss USA.

She needs a lesson...

in exactly who's

boss, methinks.

We think so, too.

- I didn't start it.

It wasn't my fault.

Go out and close the door.

But you asked to see me.

Yes, well, you have to knock

before you enter.

I can't believe it.

This is all horse

face's fault.

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