Heathers Page #19

VERONICA:

You're ignoring the high school

experience. People are dead and all

you can think to do is whip up some

warped Pity Party. If we're going to

ever build respect for each other,

it's gotta be something...something

real. We can't be tricked into it.

Back me up J.D...J.D.?

PAULINE:

(moving off)

Let's go Peter, some people are just

unwilling to share the pain....

MARTHA DUNNSTOCK/DUMPTRUCK'S TABLE

MARTHA slithers from under the table up into her seat, and

head down, tries to finish off a bowl of soup. She slowly looks

up and freezes. J.D. is revealed to be seated across from her,

behind his Rebel Without a Cause lunch box. He smiles warmly.

J.D.

Greetings and salutations.

INT. J.D.'S LIVING ROOM--NIGHT

VERONICA restlessly rocks on a couch with increasingly

unguarded annoyance. Excitedly insensitive to her words, J.D.

spins the tuner of his radio, headphones pressed to one ear.

VERONICA:

That thing this afternoon...I'm so

angry! It was like "Boy, isn't death

fun!" "Gee, I wonder who'll die next!"

"I'll bet we get four camera crews

next time." It was chaos. F***ing chaos.

J.D. giddily pivots around, tearing the headphones from the

radio and causing a blast of static to accompany his words.

J.D.

What are you talking about? Today

was great. Chaos is great. Chaos is

what killed the dinosaurs, darling,

and it's what's going to make

Westerburg a purified place to get

an education. Face it, our way is

the way. We scare people into not

being a**holes.

VERONICA:

(a ticking time bomb)

Our way is not our way.

J.D.

Tell that to the judge; "Your honor,

I was led to believe there were Ich

Luge bullets in the gun." Tell it to

Kurt Kelly! "Don't shoot, Veronica,

I'm the quarterback."

J.D. goes into a Sonny-Corleone-at-the-Turnpike imitation.

VERONICA throws the first thing she can get her hands on, a

framed picture of a woman, at the vibrating J.D.

VERONICA:

I'm telling it to you! You! Nothing

good can come from suicide, from murder,

from death. Nothing! Nothing except more

death and sh*t like that feeding frenzy

this afternoon....Geez, what am I..who...

Unnaah! You can be so immature!

J.D.

(looking off)

You kids are making too much damn noise.

BIG BUD DEAN is revealed to be standing in the front doorway,

holding a chest exerciser and waving a videocassette.

BIG BUD DEAN:

We beat the b*tches.

VERONICA:

(mumbling)

Oh beautiful. The Beaver's home.

BIG BUD DEAN:

Judge told em to slurp sh*t and die.

BIG BUD moves to the Entertainment console, turns off the

radio and turns on the V.C.R. He crams the cassette in and

hefts up his chest exerciser. He begins pumping away as the

image of a shabby building appears on the massive T.V.

BIG BUD DEAN:

I put a Norwegian in the boiler room.

Masterful. When that blew, it set off

a pack of thermals I'd stuck upstairs.

The building blows up. BIG BUD cackles. J.D. politely

applauds. BUD pops out the videocassette and bounces away.

BIG BUD DEAN:

It's great to be alive!

VERONICA:

Do you like your father?

J.D.

Never given the matter much thought.

Liked my mother.

J.D. picks up the framed picture that Veronica threw.

J.D.

They said her death was an accident.

But she knew when the explosives were

set to go off. She knew...

VERONICA slowly sits down next to J.D. with dazed concern.

VERONICA:

In some sick way, we unclogged the

sinuses of the school. But if we're

going to keep the school healthy, it's

gotta be through something having to

do with life, not death.

J.D.

Whoa, Metaphor Tennis anyone? Tell me,

if you put a Nazi in a concentration

camp, does that make you a Nazi?

VERONICA:

Maybe.

J.D. exhales in frustration before bounding up from the couch

to turn back on the radio.

D.J. (Radio)

Dudes, if I get one more request for

that BigFun song I'm going to

committ suicide. Here it is......

J.D.

(malevolently)

They're playing our song....

As the "song" kicks in (a bunch of guys shouting over a drum

machine), J.D. seductively moves toward VERONICA, semi-lip-

syncing it. As a seethingly angry but not unaroused

VERONICA watches, J.D. slithers onto the couch.

BIGFUN (Radio)

TIMES ARE MEAN FOR A TEEN--WE KNOW!

PARENTS IGNORE, TEACHERS BORE--WE KNOW!

BUT THERE'S MORE THAN ONE WAY TO GO!

TEENAGE SUICIDE; DON'T DO IT!

TEENAGE SUICIDE; DON'T DO IT!

J.D. stops his seduction and rips out a gun. He giddily fires

into the radio, destroying it.

VERONICA:

That's it, we're breaking up.

J.D.

Wha-a-at?

J.D. playfully tackles the fleeing VERONICA. This calms rather

than angers. She turns on her back. J.D. follows suit.

J.D.

You can't bring them back. You

must know that.

VERONICA:

I'm not trying to "bring back"

anybody...except maybe myself.

VERONICA sighs, then rolls over into a crawling position and

eventually into a walking-out-the-door position.

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