American Pie Presents: Band Camp

Hey, Stifler, how come Steve

got all the talent in your family?

Bite me, F*** Face.

Come on, man, you're missing it.

I've seen it a million times,

you f***ing ass-booger.

Steve is like a filmmaking genius.

A true American hero.

The Tarantino of titties.

Yeah, there's just no way

you could ever be this good.

Hey, look, I'm going to prove to Steve...

that I'm up to the standards

of the Stiffmeister Productions.

After Steve sees my directing talent...

- little bro's joining the family business.

- Is that what he said?

- He finally called you back?

- No, but I left him another message.

He'll get back to me.

It's only been three weeks.

Gentle-fucks, a toast.

Tomorrow, we begin our reign as seniors.

Okay, people, let's take a break.

Remember, we play this at the end of

the ceremony after Pomp and Circumstance.

I don't want anyone starting

the wrong song again.

- Elyse, you need to relax, girl.

- I'm fine.

I just... You know,

it's my first time up here, and...

Yeah, but it's graduation.

It ain't the Boston Pops.

This performance sets the tone

for our senior year. I mean...

Look, you just remember

that everybody here is pulling for you.

Dork. Dork. Dork. Goose.

- I like them feisty.

- What're you doing here, Stifler?

We just want to say sayonara,

and let you f***-necks know...

we plan on winning the state title, now that

the Stiffmeister's running the show.

- Adios, butt-hugger.

- He's a bigger a**hole than his brother.

Holy sh*t, Arrianna.

Matt, what're you doing here?

Oh, we just want to make sure

the seniors have a very memorable last day.

That's cool. So, there's a campout tonight...

and it's only for the grads,

but you could come.

Let me check my schedule. Hell, yeah.

Bring your sleeping bag,

in case we decide to pitch a tent.

Check it out. Perfect timing.

This is going to be classic.

Time to initiate

Operation Gradu-f***-uation.

This is gonna be awesome.

- Sh*t.

- Oh, yeah! Jackpot!

Payback, seniors.

Don't get that pepper spray on your hands.

A graduation gift from the Stiffmeister.

Dude, we should've sprayed

the diplomas.

Sorry, bandees.

Bite my nuts and call me Skippy.

It's a Steely Dan.

- A what?

- It's a double-headed dildo.

It's a dildo. It's a dildo.

- Holy sh*t.

- It's even got a name.

Picardo?

- Spray that sh*t.

- F***, no. Finders keepers.

Okay, everybody, Pomp and

Circumstance. Five-minute warning. Let's go.

The bandees. Let's get out of here.

- Matt?

- Leesy.

How they hanging?

Still small and perky, I see.

- That's funny.

- Yeah.

- What're you doing here, Matt?

- I just came by to wish you good luck.

- You know, on the whole music thing.

- Good luck?

You haven't said a word to me

since the eighth grade.

Yeah, and that tone of voice

is exactly the reason why.

So, I'm going to take off now.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please rise to honor our graduates.

Douchebag's gonna miss it.

Oh, yes.

Are they crying?

Holy sh*t!

Yes!

Eat sh*t, seniors.

Uh oh!

Stifler!

I've been waiting for this moment

for a very long time.

And now, the day of reckoning has come.

Hello, Matthew.

Your brother must be very proud.

You've continued his legacy.

Tormenting the innocent...

defiling all that is good and pure.

But now, you're going down.

What're you going to do,

expel me, Shermanator?

I am a sophisticated counseling machine...

sent back in time

to guide young and innocent minds.

My primary directive is to protect

the students of this institution...

and all, indeed all mankind...

from the menace that is another Stifler.

Behavior modification is required.

It's not too late to change your future.

No, expulsion would be too easy.

I know the perfect punishment

to fit your crime.

Since you have so much trouble

with the band...

perhaps you should make friends with them.

No f***ing way.

Either you learn to be more considerate

or you will be expelled.

No football.

No parties.

No spring break.

No graduation.

No college.

No coeds.

Comprende?

Pack your bags, Stifler.

- You're going to Band Camp.

- Band Camp!

Bullshit, trash.

All right, Steve! Valley Girls Gone Wild.

F***.

Told you Steve'd get back to me.

I mean, it was just a postcard...

but it gave me a great idea.

Look...

Steve's sh*t-head friend, Jim...

he married

this freaking nympho band-geek, Michelle.

And he said

all they do at Band Camp is screw 24/7.

Matt, buddy, you cannot screw band chicks.

There are standards.

I'm not talking about screwing them,

scrotum-breath.

I'm talking about videotaping them.

People love to see dorks doing

that freaky sh*t on hidden video.

Bandeez Gone Wild.

Steve's gonna have some competition now...

because little bro's

joining the family business.

Yeah, Spy Chest.

Secret Video.

Hell, yeah.

Color night vision? I'll take it. Sh*t.

How about tomorrow?

This is going be great.

Welcome to Tall Oaks 2005.

Let's hear it from Lloyd Memorial High.

L- L-O-Y-D!

L- L-O-Y-D!

- Mount St. Marie.

- Mount St. Marie!

Mount St. Marie!

East Great Falls High.

East Great Falls!

East Great Falls!

And five-time defending

Tall Oaks Cup Champion...

Beechwood Academy.

We're Number One! We're Number One!

We're Number One!

Okay, settle down.

Now, as you know, each year...

one senior Tall Oaks composer is awarded...

a full scholarship

to the prestigious Robards Conservatory.

Elyse, this is your year to win.

This year, Dr. Susan Choi,

president of Robards...

will judge the compositions herself.

And let's not forget to welcome

the Tall Oaks Camp Counselors.

If you visit our infirmary, Nurse Sanders

will take care of your every need.

Okay, so let's work hard,

and may the best band win.

You guys ready?

What the f***?

Are you a rookie? You look lost.

Are you an a**hole?

You're hairy, and you smell like sh*t.

I'll ignore that kind of talk once.

We don't speak that way here.

Rookies are to wear their beanies

at all times. Those are the rules.

And who made you

the mayor of Geek Town?

I'm Brandon Vandecamp,

senior drum major, Beechwood Academy...

and the president of the Tall Oaks Council.

Oh, and who are they, Mr. President?

The First Lady and Vice P*ssy?

Suits you well.

Golly, jeepers, thanks. Hey, you know,

since I'm an official band geek and all...

can you guess

what my favorite piece of music is?

- I have no idea.

- The Nutcracker.

Step back, b*tch.

Holy mother of Mozart.

This is bad.

You didn't know Jackie Chan

was in the house, did you boys, huh?

Stop that. Stop that now.

Those knob-slobbers started it.

That's not true, sir.

We simply reminded him to wear his beanie.

And then he viciously assaulted

Brandon's genitals.

- That's a lie, you dick-snot.

- Oscar, Jimmy, escort this man to see...

- the Macro.

- The what?

- You're dead.

- Now, gentlemen.

God, Brandon, are you okay?

You want to tell me

what the hell you're doing here, Stifler?

It don't matter, Big O.

He ain't gonna be here long.

- B*tch!

- Get over here.

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