Detention

---

I'm Taylor Fisher and I'm a b*tch.

Beauty, intelligence, talent,

charisma, Hoobastank.

What? They're good.

Indie rock trends do move fast.

Today, my alarm is set

to the Drunges.

But by the time

you actually watch this...

...they'll be headlining a toilet

in Toledo with mops.

Hey, b*tch, that's not cool.

Eat cock!

Hello, Taylor.

It's Don. Don Waters, again.

We made out behind the Pizza Pitt.

You tasted the deep dish.

Not deep enough.

Get out of the bathroom.

You're ruining my life, you

f***ing Ecstasy baby!

-I'm peeing.

-Taylor, hi, Singe Gupta.

I very much liked our calculus date

at Pizza Pitt.

Loser. Your parabolic graph was bent

and I only got a B.

French toast?

Mom, I'm on a no-bread diet.

-Since when?

-Since now!

Oh, I hate you! I hope you die!

Taylor, what we did at Pizza Pitt....

Word of advice,

there's always new toothpaste.

Don't swallow. Spit.

Cinderhella II:
Beauty Scream opened

this week at the Galaxy Pines Mall.

If you're anyone who's anyone

in Grizzly Lake, you'll go see it.

Moscow Hyatt is my idol.

This brings me to something I call:

Taylor Fisher's Guide

to Not Being a Total Reject.

One, go see Cinderhella II

on Friday night, loser.

Taylor, honey, I'm leaving.

Hurry or we'll be late.

Mom, I'm doing something important!

You're a monster!

I'll be in the car.

F*** a duck!

Let me montage this

to speed things up.

What now?

Love Pizza Pitt.

Who are you?

Your biggest fan.

Rad.

B*tch, going to kill you.

-Okay.

-Okay....

Stalkers are so 201 1.

Get out of my room, you pedophile!

Where is she?

The girl gets away with everything.

Life sucks.

Nice. That's just awesome.

I try to remember

I'm only the second-biggest loser...

...to walk Grizzly Lake High.

First place goes to the drunk slut who

screwed the dead mascot in 1 992.

But the '90s are history. So am l.

Oh, my God, I love this song.

Sh*t!

No, no, no, no.

Sh*t.

This is the fifth sighting of

mysterious objects over Grizzly Lake.

Authorities speculate an elaborate

hoax perpetuated by high-school....

Dad, I forgot the bus leaves early

on Wednesdays. Can you drive me?

Sure, hon.

Nope, still drunk.

Yo, Heather Mills.

You're robbing me?

I didn't even know lceland had crime.

Stop generalizing. I stole this shirt.

-And the leather shoes?

-Vegetarian?

"Vegetarianism is the taproot

of humanitarianism." Tolstoy.

Give me your iPod, salad eater.

-It's a f***ing shuffle.

-I make 6.55 an hour.

Yeah. Thanks, anyway.

I'm too old for this sh*t.

It's not my fault majoring

in lnuit Literature and Hipster Rock...

-...doesn't replenish your trust fund.

-I listen to Aerosmith.

-Hey, Clapton.

-Hey, Clapton.

-Hey.

-Go left.

Where is Clapton Davis?

Other way.

Who gave Riley the permission

to have the hots for Clapton?

Did falling off the ugly tree

knock a dream into her head?

Why doom a win like Clapton Davis

to a life of missionary sex?

Nice save, Truman.

Think you can hook me up

with Alexis at prom?

Yeah, no problem!

This bear's been deceased

since the Nixon Administration...

...yet exerts

an extraordinary magnetic field.

Toshiba, you're either the smartest kid

in school or the weirdest.

Mimi, wait. Wait, Mimi. No.

I know it looks like

such a lighthearted...

...feel-good comedy

being an expecting teenage mom.

Let me tell you something. I've been

principal at this school for five years.

Let me tell both of you something.

Pregnant teenagers

are never funny. Ever.

I'm not pregnant.

Cut the carbs.

Attention, Grizzly Lake High.

-Hey, Kayla.

-Hey, Vicky.

Skank ho.

Your vote for prom king and queen

is now due.

Winners win a Pizza Pitt coupon.

Go Grizzly.

Tomorrow, the Grizzly Lake Bears will

play the Town Creek Beavers at pub.

Hey, Clapton.

Ione, did you tell Billy about us?

Clapton, the small guy always beats

the invincible killing machine.

You're my Pat Morita.

Isn't he dead?

Duck.

Verge.

Get a life, punk.

This is ugly.

Three o'clock. Parking lot.

Winner wins lone. Loser wins....

-lone?

-Shut up!

Just make sure your dumb ass

is there, dumb-ass!

Really, Clapton? If you're gonna get

your limbs ripped off...

...find a more worthy charity

than lone.

Ione likes Sting.

Clapton Davis,

you are more concept than reality.

I just mean that it looks like

Clapton's gonna ask out Ione...

...which makes about as much sense

as that stupid movie Torque.

So, what do you think

about you and me?

Have you even thought about prom?

Hey, Sander. I saw your dad's dick

on Chatroulette last night.

Yes, Sander, I'm a girl.

Forget about genocide,

poverty and political corruption.

What could possibly be on

my girl mind other than prom?

Totally right, lone.

-Sting is the Bruno Mars of 1 992.

-You're so funny.

-Why do you think I'd go with him?

-No reason.

Have you ever noticed that

we have compatible facial features?

Riley, don't delay the inevitable.

You know in three days,

we're gonna be prom dates...

...and the sex and shame

will be fleeting.

Look, get off my nuts, all right?

Hey, Riley, I don't wanna hear

about your testicles.

The assignment is simple.

You're a smart girl.

Use what you've learned this semester

about quantum physics...

...and build me a time machine

so I can get out of here.

-So hot.

-Sander, we have to finish this.

Then stop messing

with that bear claw.

I took it from the mascot. Strange.

Someone wired this with organic,

super-conduction Mimis--

-MagMimis-- Magnets.

-God.

Come on.

Toshiba, I mean, look at Clapton's.

It's got a clock-looking thing, okay?

I wanna pass this course.

Then do something. If I fail science,

I'm stuck with you next year...

...in the Remedial History

of the Jelly Bean.

-I love jelly beans.

-Slacker.

That's hilarious. What is it?

I don't know. It looks like a bong.

Well, Clapton...

...I'm wet.

I get it.

Listening to your loud music.

Tripping out to Fraggle Rock.

But the question is,

what does the future hold...

...for Clapton Davis?

Well, I am starting

my own music site.

It'll list new releases

and review albums...

...from bands

that nobody has heard of.

If they have, I'll dismiss them

with scathing comparisons...

...to avant-garde folk rockers.

Everything is graded on

a 1 00-point scale.

-No place for feedback.

-Excellent.

Readers can b*tch on their Twitters.

Good taste is not a democracy.

And this pays what, 1 3.5 a year?

Free Costello tickets.

Do you think that I am

teaching students out of love?

I'm not.

It's your senior year

and your GPA is....

It's a disgrace.

But I'd rather not see you

back here next fall.

Give me an excuse to graduate you.

Impress me.

Get an A. Save a small country.

Something.

Anything.

Otherwise, get expelled...

...with the lowest grades

in Grizzly Lake history.

Does Home Ec count?

Get your sh*t together, son.

I make 40 g's a year plus dental.

You may not have a Skittle.

Thanks, Mr. Kendall.

Princess?

-lone.

-Looks like Taylor's absent.

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