Class Page #6

Jesus Christ.

You'd better go, Jonathon.

Um, room service. It's room 101 7. I'd like

a bottle of vodka sent up right away.

- Oh, that'll really help, won't it?

- Yes, it will, Jonathon.

A damn sight more than you will. 101 7.

I asked you to go.

You can't call me any more.

I know.

I won't.

I'm sorry.

Hold me.

- Are you sure it'll be all right?

- Trust me.

He is in serious trouble. He's forgotten

the meaning of the word ''debauchery''.

This is gonna be great.

Bet you've never been

with guys as crazy as us.

- Sure he's in here?

- Yeah, man, I told you, I followed him.

Shh!

Shh. Shh. Are you ready? Shh.

(Skip mouths)

Room service!

(knocking)

Room service!

- Oh, I'm sorry.

- Sh*t.

- Maybe we ought to leave.

- Skip.

Skipper.

Jonathon, aren't you going to

introduce your friend?

She got any sisters, Jonathon?

- (girl #1 ) Well, that was a short party!

- (girl #2) Yeah!

Would you please... excuse me?

Skip! Skip!

(man) Lights out!

Look, Skip...

Skip, come on. Look, Skip,

I didn't know who she was.

I'm really sorry.

I'm sorry.

Come on... Do you think

we should talk about this?

Hey, there's nothin' to talk about.

I told you, a f*** is just a f***.

OK.

Urgh!

What's your problem, Skip?

Argh! Damn you!

- Get outta my way!

- Cheap play, Burroughs! I'm warnin' you!

- What the hell is goin' on there?

- I don't know.

Son of a b*tch!

I'll fix your ass for you!

(whistle blows)

Burroughs, you bastard.

Watch the language! Burroughs,

I've had it with you. Get outta here!

- Yeah, let's go!

- (squawking laughter)

- Hey, man.

- (boy squawks) Bye-bye!

Take a cold shower!

- Mr Burroughs.

- Hello, Jonathon.

- How are you?

- Fine. You know when Skip'll be back?

Uh, he should be back soon.

How've you been?

Good.

Pretty busy?

How's your social life?

Girlfriends?

No?

OK, sir. Come on, let's get it over with.

I can't take this.

What are you talkin' about?

What am I talkin' about?

What are you doing here?

- Would you excuse us?

- Sure.

What's wrong?

Your mother's in the hospital, son.

She checked herself in three days ago.

She felt she needed psychiatric help.

She's getting it.

You don't seem surprised.

- What do you want me to say?

- What kind of attitude is that?

It's not an attitude. If she thinks that

she needs help, then she should get it.

Face it, Dad,

we're just a f***ed-up family.

That's the guy. That's the narc.

Gentlemen, I am going to need your help.

This is Mr Balaban. He is from

the state attorney general's office,

and he is presently conducting an

investigation of the schools in our area.

Apparently, there has been some

widespread cheating on the SAT tests.

I hope that Mr Balaban is wrong about

Vernon Academy, but nonetheless,

we are going to give him

our full cooperation.

- You're dead, Roger!

- A**hole!

- You stupid sh*t!

- A narc, huh?

- You a**hole!

- I flushed $300 down the goddamn toilet!

So, this is a real

pain-in-the-ass way to meet, isn't it?

- I hear you're already headed to Harvard.

- Yes.

You got a near-perfect score

on your SAT test.

Very impressive. Normally

I would've suspected you right away.

Right away.

But you've been a straight-A student

all your life, so...

the only conclusion I can draw is,

either you're innocent,

or you've been stealing tests

since you were in nursery school.

I guess we better get down to business.

I'm gonna have to

ask you some questions.

Do you have any knowledge

of the stolen SAT tests?

No, sir.

Did you purchase an SAT test?

No, sir.

Thank you.

They kept Ostroff for an hour and a half.

- I heard they nailed Powers.

- Powers! What a jerk-off!

He didn't cheat, but he's so scared he

confessed to smokin', goin' off campus,

- and spyin' on Kennedy's wife in the can.

- Oh, man!

Well, I tell you somethin',

it'll take more than some fag from the

attorney general's office to open my lips.

Yeah! Two fags!

F*** you, Roscoe! Wait till you

get in there, you'll be Jell-O guts.

How you doin'?

You heard from Harvard.

Hey.

Congratulations.

(narrator) Seldom seen by civilised man,

this sacred rituaI was

captured by our camera...

(shouting)

- Shut the projector off, please.

- (booing)

More bodies for the inquisition,

Mr Maybaum?

Yes, ma'am.

Mr Simons and Mr Burroughs,

you are today's lucky winners.

- Thank you, ma'am.

- Sh*t.

I know we're supposed

to give our full cooperation

to this stupid and pointless investigation,

but when they interrupt

one of my classes,

it pisses me off.

(boy) This is now my favourite class.

Come in. Sit down.

Squire.

So, this is a real

pain-in-the-ass way to meet, isn't it?

I see you, uh... applied to Harvard.

I'm an NYU man myself.

I... worked my way through.

Got a very high score on your SAT.

''Burroughs''.

You're not by any chance related to the

Burroughs who's on the board of AT&T?

Daddy.

Really?

Ha-ha. I would imagine that the pressure

to get into Harvard must be very intense.

Your grades weren't bad.

Your grades were all right.

But it was the SAT score that got you in.

I don't wanna put you through this.

But we've all done things

that we're ashamed of.

Things that we have to live with.

Sometimes painfully.

Because only occasionally...

does the opportunity present itself

to rectify our mistakes.

And with that said, I guess

we should get down to business.

Do you have any knowledge

of the stolen SAT tests?

Mr Burroughs,

where do you think you're going?

F*** you.

- He really said ''F*** you''?

- He looked him straight in the eye,

- said it, and walked out.

- All right!

I couldn't believe it!

- He told Balaban to go f*** himself.

- No sh*t?

- He told Balaban to go f*** himself!

- Burroughs told Balaban to f*** himself!

Hey! Skip!

Good job!

Skip!

Come on.

Why didn't you turn me in? Huh?

You don't talk to me. You save my ass,

but you don't talk to me.

Well, thanks, buddy. Maybe I'll do

the same for you sometime, huh?

What could anybody do

for Mr Perfect, though?

Hey, I got it. I'll drop dead.

Wouldn't that be nice, huh?

I could shoot myself. No, you shoot me

and mount my head next to the moose.

You could stretch the panties between

my ears. Come on, you'd love that!

How the hell was I supposed to know

who she was? You sent me to the bar.

You send her there to get laid, too?

You son of a b*tch. You went back there

even after you knew who she was.

Goddammit, you're gonna talk to me!

Oh, get away from me!

Get away from me, you...

OK, you wanna talk? You wanna

f***ing talk, you lying son of a b*tch?

You bastard! Come on! Come on!

- I'm sorry, man.

- Come on, let's go!

Come on.

- Cut it out!

- I'm gonna kick your f***in' ass!

Come on. Cut it out.

Argh! Sh*t!

Stay away from me!

Argh! F***!

Skip?

Skip?

F***!

You son of a b*tch!

Come on!

- God damn you!

- Oh, just back off!

- Truce!

- Truce, sh*t!

I never would've seen her again.

She kept callin' me.

I just wanted to talk, honest to God.

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