Heathers Page #10

J.D.

And your worst enemy.

VERONICA:

Same difference. Oh jesus, I'm gonna...

VERONICA staggers to a desk. J.D. laughs out of shock.

J.D.

What are we going to tell the cops?

"F*** it if she can't take a joke, Sarge."

VERONICA:

Stop kidding around. The police....oh

no, oh God....I can't believe this is

my life..I'm going to have to send my

S.A.T. scores to San Quentin instead

of Stanford.

J.D.

I'm just a little freaked, all right?

(a beat)

You got what you wanted, you know.

VERONICA:

Don't say that! It's one thing to

want somebody out of your life. It's

another thing to serve them a wake-up

cup of Liquid Drainer....Don't say....

VERONICA stares off as J.D. paces like a caged animal. He

scopes onto the rubble of the shattered coffee table and sees

Cliff Notes for The Bell Jar plus a magazine proclaiming

"THE FALL OF THE AMERICAN TEEN" under HEATHER CHANDLER's body.

J.D.

We did a murder. In Ohio, that's a crime.

But if this was like a suicide thing.....

VERONICA:

Like a suicide thing?

J.D.

Adolescence is a period of life

fraught with anxiety and confusion.

VERONICA:

(calming down)

I can do Heather's handwriting as

well as my own.

VERONICA takes some stationery from the desk and begins

writing, calling out her words.

VERONICA:

"You might think what I've done is

shocking..."

J.D.

"To me though, suicide is the

natural answer to the myriad

of problems life has given me."

VERONICA:

That's good, but Heather would

never use the word "myriad."

J.D.

This is the last thing she'll ever

write. She'll want to cash in on as

many fifty-cent words as poss.

VERONICA:

She missed "myriad" on a vocab

test two weeks ago, all right?

J.D.

That only proves my point more. The word

is a badge for her failures at school.

VERONICA:

You're probably right..."People think

just because you're beautiful and

popular, life is easy and fun. Nobody

understood I had feelings too."

J.D.

"I die knowing no one knew the real me."

VERONICA:

That's good. Have you done this before?

VERONICA's smile dies as she looks to HEATHER CHANDLER'S corpse.

INT. SCHOOL CONFERENCE ROOM--DAY

At the head of a long conference table is the bearlike

PRINCIPAL GOWAN. Circling the table is the gray-haired but

savvy MRS. POPE, the yuppie black counselor PAUL HYDE, TWO

large DISCIPLINARIAN-TYPES, and most noticeably, the

eccentrically dressed MS. PAULINE FLEMING. Coats are in chairs

and cigarette smoke is in the air, as the group batters their

way through a morning mourning conference.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Any other Principal would take the same

position. Keep things business as usual.

COUNSELOR HYDE:

Heather Chandler's not your everyday

suicide. She was very popular.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Come on Paul, I let the kids go before

lunch and the switchboard'll light up

like a Christmas Tree.

COUNSELOR HYDE:

The parents will be sympathetic, sir.

These are troubled times for the young.

MRS. POPE

I must say I was impressed to see

that she made proper use of the word

"myriad" in her suicide note after

brutalizing it in a vocabulary test.

PAULINE:

(dramatically cutting in)

I find it profoundly disturbing that

we are told of a tragic destruction

of youth and all we can talk about

is adequate mourning times and

misused vocabulary words.

A collective sigh goes across the room.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Oh Christ.

PAULINE:

The school, meaning both students

and teachers, must revel in this

revealing moment. I suggest we get

everyone into the cafeteria and

just talk. And feel. Together.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Thank you, Ms. Fleming. Call me

when the shuttle lands...Now is

this Heather the cheerleader?

COUNSELOR HYDE:

That would be Heather Mcnamara.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Damn. I'd be willing to go half a

day for a cheerleader.

MRS. POPE

Let's just pack it in an hour early.

PRINCIPAL GOWAN:

Done. I hate Mondays.

INT. PAULINE FLEMING'S CLASSROOM--DAY

The desks of the classroom have been maneuvered into an

amusingly chaotic position by PAULINE'S PUPILS. She is

furious.

PAULINE:

I said a circle you imbeciles! Forget

it! Just sit down. I'm just so thrilled

to be given an example of everything

I've taught you. That example is

Heather Chandler. I have the note!

PAULINE melodramatically lifts the suicide note. The class AAAHS.

MALE STUDENT:

Awright!

PAULINE:

I'll pass the suicide note around

the room so you can feel its tragic

beauty for yourself. Let us share

together the feelings the suicide has

spurred in us all. Who wants to begin?

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