Grease Page #6
- PG-13
- Year:
- 1978
- 110 min
- 24,890 Views
- Fine.
Who is she?
They call me Cha Cha, cos I'm
the best dancer at St Bernadette's.
With the worst reputation.
Let's go, Sandy.
- Who's that girl?
- Just a girl I know, that's all.
Hi.
I'm Vince Fontaine.
Do your folks know
I come into your room every night?
Over KZAZ, that is.
I'm judging the dance contest.
I don't think I'm entered.
A knockout like you?
What's your name?
- Marty.
- Marty what?
Maraschino. You know, like in cherry.
- What are you doing?
- Washing my hands.
# You don't remember me
# But I remember you
# It was not so long ago
# Tears on my pillow
# Pain in my heart
# Caused by you,
you, you, you, you...
How do you know her?
Erm, she's an old friend
of the family, that's all.
# Love is not a toy
# When you find the one you love...
- Aren't you glad to be back?
- Oh, yeah.
Besides, blondes do have more fun.
# I wouldn't hesitate...
When I hear music,
I can't make my feet behave.
- Hush, Sonny.
# Pain in my heart
# Caused by you
# You-ou-ou-ou
Sshh.
The Rydell fight song!
When you are finished...
You will be happy to know that
I am not judging the dance contest.
I think we all owe
a round of applause
to Patty Simcox and Eugene Felznik
and committee
for their beautiful decorations.
Let's hear it for the toilet paper.
In a few moments, the entire nation
will be watching Rydell High,
God help us, and I want you all
to be on your best behaviour.
No heinie-biting.
And now, here he is,
the Prince of the Platters,
Mr Vince Fontaine.
Mr Vince Fontaine?
(drum rolls)
at Rydell High.
What's your name, sweetheart?
And now, for the rules.
Game rule one.
All couples must be boy-girl.
Too bad, Eugene.
Alright, alright. Come on.
Game rule two.
During the dance contest,
if you're tapped on the shoulder,
leave the floor, or else. I mean it.
And rule three,
anyone doing tasteless
or vulgar movements
will be disqualified.
That leaves us out.
Keep it clean, please. Keep it clean.
Thank you, fans and friends.
Now a few words to the wise.
You are my best pals.
To look your best for the contest,
just have a ball, that's all.
Forget the camera, keep on the beat,
give the folks at home a treat.
Keep dancin', that's showbiz.
If I tap you, step aside.
Let the others ride.
Ten seconds. Nine, eight,
seven, six, five, four,
three, two, one. On the air.
Welcome to National Bandstand,
live from Rydell High School.
This is what you're waiting for,
the dance-off.
Away we go with
Johnny Casino and the Gamblers.
# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
# Cryin' all the time
# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
# Cryin' all the time
# You ain't never caught a rabbit
and you ain't no friend of mine
Look. There's the camera!
That's Putzie and Jan.
# Said you was high class,
that was just a lie
# Call yourself high class,
that was just a lie
# Well, you ain't never
caught a rabbit...
Oh, there's Danny and Sandy.
# You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
# Cryin' all the time
# Cryin' all the time
# You ain't never caught a rabbit
and you ain't no friend of mine
(song ends)
Now the event you've all been
waiting for, the national dance-off.
Some guy and gal will get
some fantabulous prizes.
Don't feel bad if I tap you out.
It don't matter if you win or lose,
it's what you do
with your dancin' shoes.
Does everybody here know Marty?
OK, cats, throw your mittens
round your kittens. Away we go!
That wasn't supposed to happen!
Let's go, let's hand-jive!
# Before I was born late one night
# My papa said everything's alright
# The doctor made my ma lay down...
Guy with the girl in red,
throw 'em out.
# Cos the bebop stork
was about to arrive
# Mama gave birth to the hand-jive
when I milked a cow
# When I was three I pushed a plough
# While choppin' wood
I'd move my legs
# And I started dancin'
while I gathered eggs
# Townsfolk clapped, I was only five
# I'd outdance 'em all,
I was born to hand-jive
Yes, split 'em, buddy.
Go, go, go, go.
Shake it. Shake it.
Shimmy, shimmy, shimmy.
Attagirl!
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Everybody!
# Born to hand-jive, baby
# Born to hand-jive, baby
Here we go.
Hey, break it up! What is that?
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
C'mon now, shake it!
Yeah.
Twist it!
Alright, get it!
# How low can you go?
# How low can you go?
# How low can you go?
There you go!
C'mon now, hand-jive!
That's the stuff!
Do it, baby!
Do it!
That's the hand-jive grand-jive!
Yeah, let's bring it up now!
Bring it on up!
Higher!
Higher.
Higher and higher!
# Now can you hand-jive, baby?
# Oh, can you hand-jive, baby?
# Oh, yeah
# Born to hand-jive, oh, yeah!
Oh, yeah!
Here they are, the new champs.
Come on up here.
- Can I have your names, please?
- Cha Cha di Gregorio and Danny Zuko.
- We'll do it now.
- Where's Marty?
- Don't worry, she's in good hands.
- Whose?
Now let's see our champs
in a spotlight dance.
- # Blue moon
- # Blue, blue, blue, blue moon
# You saw me standing alone
# Without a love of my own...
Ready? One, one, two, three, go.
# Blue moon...
Who's that on the right?
We have pictures
of you so-called mooners.
Just because it's not your faces
doesn't mean we can't identify you.
At this very moment, those pictures
are on the way to Washington,
where the FBI has experts
in this type of identification.
If you turn yourselves in now,
you may escape a federal charge.
C'mon, Doody. Watch your hands.
Move it out.
I feel like a meatball in here.
Let's go find the chicks.
Marty. Marty.
Hold my money. Don't let me
go near the refreshment stand.
- I'm not hungry.
- Hey. What's happening?
There's nobody here.
Come on, Sandy.
I told you on the phone I was sorry.
- I know you did.
- You believe me, don't you?
Yes, but I still think
you and Cha Cha went together.
We did not go together.
We just went together.
- It's the same thing.
- No. No.
- (screams)
- Ohh!
Sandy, I'm sorry.
Sandy...
Would you wear my ring?
Danny. I don't know what to say.
- Say, yes.
- Yes.
Danny, this means so much to me.
Cos I know now that you respect me.
Hey, Rizz?
Watch it.
- What's with you tonight?
- I feel like a defective typewriter.
- I skipped a period.
- You think you're PG?
I don't know. Big deal.
- Was it Kenickie?
- Nah, you don't know the guy.
Rizz, look, it's OK.
I caught Vince Fontaine putting
aspirin in my Coke at the dance.
Hey.
- Marty, you won't tell no one?
- Sure, I'll take it to the grave.
Coming through, coming through.
Come on, lady with a baby.
Hey, Marty, what's up?
Rizzo's pregnant.
Rizzo's got a bun in the oven.
Rizzo's knocked up.
Rizzo, I hear you're knocked up.
You do?
Boy, good news really travels fast.
Why didn't ya tell me about it?
What's it to ya?
- I might be able to do something.
- You did enough.
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