Heathers Page #8

HEATHER CHANDLER

No. Hell no.

VERONICA'S eyes fall shut in a near-faint. She flings herself

down off-screen with some ugly wretching sounds.

INT. VERONICA'S BEDROOM--NIGHT

VERONICA savagely scrawls in her diary, tears burning fierce.

VERONICA (V.O.)

Betty Finn was a true friend and I

sold her out for a bunch of Swatchdogs

and Diet Cokeheads. Killing Heather'd

be like offing the Wicked Witch of the

West. Or is it East? West! I sound

like a psycho. Tomorrow I'll be kissing

her aerobicized ass but tonight let me

dream of a world without Heather. A

world where I am free.

INT. DORM HALLWAY--NIGHT

VERONICA rises into view with tinges of vomit on her mouth. A

smile breaks across HEATHER CHANDLER's granite puss. VERONICA

runs off as STUDENTS laugh in the background.

EXT. DORMITORY ALLEY--NIGHT

VERONICA charges into the alley. She whips around to face a

screeching HEATHER CHANDLER. In back of VERONICA, the trashcan

bellows like Mt. Vesuvius.

HEATHER CHANDLER

You stupid c*nt!

VERONICA:

You goddamn b*tch!

The flickering flames cast HEATHER CHANDLER in a demonic

light.

HEATHER CHANDLER

You were nothing before you met me!

You were playing Barbies with Betty

Finn! You were a Brownie, you were a

Bluebird, you were a Girl Scout

Cookie! I got you into a Remington

Party! What's my thanks? It's on the

hallway carpet. I get paid in puke!

VERONICA:

Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.

HEATHER CHANDLER

(totally in control)

Monday morning, you're history. I'll

tell everyone about tonight. Transfer

to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson.

No one at Westerburg's going to let

you play their reindeer games.

INT. VERONICA'S BEDROOM--NIGHT

VERONICA flings her diary across the room where it hits the

wall behind the stunning figure of J.D. VERONICA gasps.

J.D.

Dreadful etiquette. I apologize.

VERONICA:

(exhaling deeply)

S'okay....

J.D.

I saw the croquet set-up in the back.

Up for a match?

VERONICA is simultaneously dismayed and exhilarated. She seems

ready to burst out all her anxieties but instead....

VERONICA:

Sure. But I'm Blue.

EXT. THE SAWYER BACKYARD--LATE NIGHT

The viewer's viewpoint glides through the grass of Veronica's

backyard uncovering combinations of wickets and articles of

clothing. A pair of girls shoes and a pair of guys shoes rest

together by the first wicket.

J.D. (V.O.)

Goddamn, no wonder you looked so

mangled when I came through the window.

Feminine socks and masculine socks lay crumpled by the next wicket.

VERONICA (V.O.)

I've always treated Heather's teen

queen power plays as bullshit.....

As VERONICA quiveringly pauses, a stylish blouse and a rugged

shirt are revealed mingling by another wicket.

VERONICA (V.O.)

But I'm really scared. Who am I going

to eat lunch with on Monday? I sound

like an Afterschool Special.

The viewer's viewpoint moves to a dress and a pair of jeans

resting side by side at another wicket.

J.D. (V.O.)

That was my first game of Strip

Croquet, you know. I thank you.

VERONICA (V.O.)

You're welcome. It's a lot more

interesting than just flinging

off your clothes and boning away

on the neighbor's swing set.

VERONICA'S blue mallet has been staked into the ground. Her

panties hang on one end, J.D.'s underwear hangs on the other.

J.D. (O.S.)

Well, I don't know. There's

something to be said for...Ouch!

VERONICA and J.D. are finally revealed, entangled in an artful

pose upon J.D.'s gunslinger coat. They warmly kiss. VERONICA

breaks off to uneasily giggle.

VERONICA:

What a night.

J.D. gently bites in to VERONICA's neck. VERONICA grooves on

it, closing her eyes tightly.

VERONICA:

What a life. I almost moved into high

school out of sixth grade because I

was some genius. We all decided to

chuck the idea because I'd have

trouble making friends, blah-blah-blah.

VERONICA slides her head down against J.D.'s chest and

gracefully rests on his lap. Gently fighting slumber, she

murmurs up to J.D., who showers her face with slow kisses.

VERONICA:

Now blah-blah-blah is all I do. I use

my grand I.Q. to figure out what gloss

to wear and how to hit three keggers

before curfew. Some genius.

J.D.

Heather Chandler is one b*tch that

deserves to die.

VERONICA:

Killing her won't solve anything.

J.D.

A well-timed lightning bolt through

her window and Monday morning, all

the other heathers, sh*t, everybody

would be cast f***ing adrift.

VERONICA:

Well then, I'll pray for rain.

J.D.

See the condoms in the grass over

there. We killed tonight, Veronica.

We murdered our baby.

VERONICA:

Hey, it was good for me too, Sparky.

J.D.

Just saying it's not hard to end a life.

VERONICA:

There's a big difference between

the most popular girl in the school

and dead sperm.

They laugh. VERONICA maneuvers herself into a sitting position.

J.D.

I guess I don't know what the hell

I'm talking about.

VERONICA:

I know exactly what the hell you're

talking about and you're right, you

don't know what the hell you're

talking about. Let's just grow up,

be adults, and die.

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