Assassination of a High School President

You want to know the truth

about high school?

You've got to break it down

into its elements

Unfortunately, at St Donovan's,

the periodic table is more crooked

than a case of scoliosis

Just give me the chance

and I'll set it all straight

Case in point, Spanish homework

"Dame un batido de esperma"

does not mean "take me to the airport"

It means, "give me a sperm milkshake"

And 22 kids gave that as an answer

in Spanish 3 last week

I'm not sure about the milkshake,

but somebody is sure feeding us

something sticky

Every clique on campus is copying

the same damn homework

Burn-outs, pretty boys, drama-dorks,

jocks, debaters, player-haters,

you name it

It's big all right

And I'm on it like pink rubber bands

on your little sister's braces

The name's Bobby Funke

I write for the paper

Wait, wait a second. Who?

Bobby Funke. l write for the paper.

No, you don't. l'm Tad Goltz,

and l write for the paper.

You don't write for sh*t.

Wait, aren't you the freshman

they tied to the snowman penis?

Sophomore.

Bobby, you can't expect us

to give you a story like this

when there's nothing written

and there's hardly proof.

Look, Clara, l'm the best writer you've got.

Tell me differently.

You've never finished an article.

Well, then, do you want to go

to homecoming with me?

No.

Clara Diaz, editor in chief

and one tough cookie

All I wanted was a taste

Friedrich Nietzsche said,

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"

But 10 buck says

Nietzsche never got a swirly

l can't talk right now, Clara.

Look, l feel really bad about what happened.

l know you're going

for that Northwestern program

and l have an assignment for you.

Take you to homecoming?

Heard you're going with Tad.

- You know what Tad's short for, right?

- Theodore?

No. Vagina.

Look it up.

l want you to write a story

on the student body president.

- Really?

- Really.

Just get it on paper this time, okay?

Okay.

Finally, my big break

It was just the story I needed

to get into the Northwestern

Summer Journalism program

Instead of delivering papers this summer,

I'd be well on my way to writing for them

Give me a piece of loose leaf.

Come on, give me a piece of loose leaf.

Give me a pen.

What happened to the last pen l gave you?

Give me a pen, Funke. Give me a pen.

Just take it.

Everybody paid attention when

Francesca Fachini walked into a classroom

She was the national merit scholar,

the varsity soccer captain,

and the president's girlfriend

I'd interview her for the story,

just as soon as I grew some testicles

What?

l'm fine. How are you?

The president was a busy man,

an important man,

and he was about to give me

the story of my high-school career

Could you please state your name,

year and Social Security number?

Paul Moore, l'm a senior.

l'm not going to give you my Soc.

Aren't you the freshman

they tied to the snowman penis?

Sophomore.

As president, how would you say

you are going to handle

the recent drop in ACT and SAT scores?

Well, what would you have me do about it?

Seriously, you've seen me on the boards.

l'll do whatever it takes it get it done.

And that's a Paul Moore promise.

To you, to St. Donovan's.

To Paul Moore.

You know what l'm talking about?

After 30 minutes in the shower,

one thing was clear

Paul was all length and no depth

He didn't give you a whole lot?

How could he not give you a whole lot?

Look at the guy. People love him.

He's like f***ing JFK, he's smart,

he's charismatic, he's good-looking,

he's a tenacious athlete.

l'm sorry, Tad. l didn't realize

you felt that way about him.

Sad.

Ongatumamwe with the rebound!

The man from Sudan!

Come on! Call that!

That's a timeout, Friars

Come on, bring it in, bring it in. Let's go.

What's going on out there, guys?

You guys look like a dump

that l took last Thanksgiving!

- What's the matter, Pauley?

- l don't know, Coach. l'm not feeling it.

You got to feel it, son.

You got to feel the flow and go.

You understand, son?

You feel, flow, go, hoop, win.

Pauley! Ball game!

No one understands why you got

the Moore story instead of Tad Goltz.

l'm sure there's a lot

you don't understand, Tad.

Yeah? Well, l understand art when l see it.

- On a road trip?

- Yeah.

Marlon Piazza,

Bobby Funke, l write for the paper.

Doing a piece on Paul Moore.

l was wondering...

Piss off, dork.

Those gentle giants were the pillars

of St Donovan's Student Council

Marlon Piazza, vice-president

and Francesca's step-brother

Matt Mullen, head hall monitor

and noted date-rapist

Marty Mullen, class secretary

and former child's underwear model

Oh, God! Oh, God, no!

Did you hear that pop?

- l think l heard a pop!

- There was no pop!

- Can we give Mr. Moore some room, please?

- Watch out.

You all right, Paul?

- Should we get him up?

- Let's get him up. Come on Paul!

Pack it up. Pack it up!

The basketball game

wasn't all we lost that night

Like Nixon's men at Watergate,

a thief crept in and stole our innocence

What kind of effing a-hole would do

something like this, Nancy?

l don't know, sir. Should l call the police?

No. Bring me the list.

Whenever trouble came to St Donovan's,

the principal rounded up

the same old delinquents

But that dark morning,

there was one new name on the list

Bobby Funke!

Actually, it's pronounced "Funke."

Principal's office, now.

- Always feel nice in here.

- My ass itches.

Who is this guy? What's his name?

Bobby Funke.

- Frankie.

- Funke.

Looks like a little gentleman.

- He does. Look at him.

- Looks like a stockbroker.

Funke.

Don't look at me.

What happened to your face, man?

Look at it. lt's like you have

a culo on your face.

Got a culo

Did you ever get a man on your back?

Breathing hard. Riding you, like a horse.

No?

l assume you all know why you're here.

Let me guess.

You finally want to start that boy-band

you've been dreaming about.

Landis, do l come down to the strip club

where you work

and knock the dick out of your mouth?

Against the wall. You're late.

Actually, l'm not entirely certain

why l'm here, sir.

Really? lt's fascinating.

This is why you're here! This!

That's sick.

You've got a gum problem

that's rapidly turning into

an attitude problem.

That's why you're here!

l don't like gum.

l don't like your snooping around.

You are all filth.

Your parents have obviously spoiled you

or, in your case, possibly abused you,

a little too much.

Now, one of you little vermin

broke into this office

and stole the SATs last night.

Of this l am certain.

l beg you, l beseech you,

do not come forward.

Because l will have the pleasure

of tracking you down,

much the same way that l tracked down

that camel-humping ammunitions envoy

two klicks east of the Tigris,

the birthplace of civilization.

Mr. Cipriato?

Do you know what the Arabic word

"la hariq" means?

- No.

- lt means, "Don't shoot."

"Don't shoot!"

May want to remember that.

Dismissed!

Hey, Francesca.

Hey, Funke.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes