Heathers

# When I was just a little girl

# I asked my mother, what will I be?

# Will I be pretty?

# Will I be rich?

# Here's what she said to me

# Qu ser, ser

# Whatever will be, will be

# The future's not ours to see

# Qu ser, ser

# What will be, will be

# When I was just a child in school

# I asked my teacher, what should I try?

# Should I paint pictures?

# Should I sing songs?

# This was her wise reply

# Qu ser, ser

# Whatever will be, will be

# The future's not ours to see

# Qu ser, ser

# What will be, will be... #

Damn.

It's your turn, Heather.

No, Heather. It's Heather's turn.

Heather.

Sorry, Heather.

# Qu ser, ser

# Whatever will be, will be

# The future's not ours to see

# Qu ser, ser

# What will be, will be

# Qu ser, ser #

Dear diary...

'Heather told me

she teaches people real life.

'She said real life sucks losers dry.

'If you want to f*** with the eagles,

you have to learn to fly.

'I said, "So, you teach people

to spread their wings and fly?"

'She said, "Yes."

'I said, "You're beautiful..."'

God, come on, Veronica.

What is your damage, Heather?

Don't blame me, blame Heather.

She told me to haul your ass

into the caff pronto.

Back me up, Heather.

She really wants to talk to you, Veronica.

OK, I'm going. Jesus Christ.

Hello, Heather.

Veronica. Finally.

I got a note of Kurt Kelly's.

I need you to forge a hot and horny

but realistic note in Kurt's handwriting.

We'll slip it onto

Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray.

I don't have anything

against Martha Dunnstock.

You don't have anything for her.

Come on. It'll be very.

The note will give her shower nozzle

masturbation material for weeks.

I'll think about it.

Don't think.

Veronica needs something to write on.

Bend over.

Dear Martha, you're so sweet...

I'm telling you, man, it'd so be righteous

to be in a Veronica Sawyer -

Heather Chandler sandwich.

Hell, yes.

I want to put a Heather on my johnson

and spin her around like a pinwheel.

Punch it in.

Westerburg feeds the world.

Come on, people.

Give that leftover lunch money

to people who don't have lunches.

God, aren't they fed yet?

Do they even have thanksgiving in Africa?

Oh, sure. Pilgrims, Indians, Tater Tots.

It's a real party continent.

Sawyer, guess what today is.

Ouch. Lunch-time poll?

What's the question?

Yeah, what's the question, Heather?

God, you were with me in study hall

when I thought of it.

I forgot.

Such a pillowcase.

It's not that bizarro thing you were babbling

about over the phone last night, is it?

Of course it is.

I told Dennis if he gives me another

political topic, I'd spew burrito chunks.

Oh, Veronica, I'm sorry.

Betty Finn. Gosh.

I'm sorry I couldn't go

to your birthday party last month.

It's OK. Your mom said you had a big date.

I'd probably miss my own birthday for a date.

Don't say that.

I was looking around the other day

and I dug up these old photographs.

Oh. They're great.

Come on, Veronica.

I was talking to somebody.

Great. Here comes Heather.

Oh, sh*t.

- Hi, Courtney. Love your cardigan.

- Thanks.

I got it last night at The Limited.

Like, totally blew my allowance.

Check this out. You win $5 million

from the Publisher Sweepstakes

and the same day

the guy gives you the cheque,

aliens land on the earth and say they'll blow

up the world in two days. What do you do?

That's easy.

I'd just slide that wad over to my father

because he's one of the state's top brokers.

If I got that money,

I'd give it all to the homeless.

Every cent.

You're beautiful.

If you're going to openly be a b*tch...

Why can't we talk to

kinds of different people?

F*** me gently with a chainsaw.

Do I look like Mother Teresa?

If I did, I probably wouldn't mind

talking to the geek squad.

Did see that? Heather number one

just looked right at me.

Does it not bother you that

everybody thinks you're a piranha?

Like I give a sh*t.

They all want me as a friend or a f***.

I'm worshiped at Westerburg

and I'm only a junior.

I can't believe this, we're going to a party

at Remington University tonight

and we're brushing up on our conversational

skills with the scum of the school.

Hi.

Hi.

So this is what's called a lunch-time poll.

You win $5 million

in the Publisher Sweepstakes

and the same day whatshisface

gives you the cheque

aliens land on earth

and say they'll blow up the world

in two days.

What are you going to do with the money?

I'd go to Egypt.

With a girl.

I'd use the money for

an end-of-the-world get-together.

I'd pay Madonna a million bucks

to sit on my face

and ride like the Kentucky Derby.

That's the most spooky-assed question

I ever heard.

After taxes, I'll only be getting...

She should pay me, though.

You go to the zoo and get a lion and

put a remote control bomb up its butt...

Then there's social security, legal fees...

Push the button on the bomb

and you and the lion die like one.

What?

Oh, my God. Here we go.

Oh, my God.

Hi, Veronica.

Five keeps an infant alive.

You wanted to be a member of

the most powerful clique in school.

If I wasn't already the head of it,

I'd want the same thing.

Come on, Veronica.

You used to have a sense of humour.

Veronica, could you

come back here a minute?

A true friend's work is never done.

- Gross.

- Gross.

Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so '87.

- Maybe you should see a doctor.

- Yeah, maybe.

Come on, Heather,

let's take another look at today's lunch.

God, Veronica, drool much?

His name's Jason Dean.

He's in my American History.

Hello, Jason Dean.

Greetings and salutations.

Are you a Heather?

No.

I'm a Veronica. Sawyer.

This may seem like

a really stupid question...

There are no stupid questions.

You inherit $5 million.

The same day aliens land on the earth

and say they're going to blow it up

in two days. What do you do?

That's the stupidest question

I've ever heard.

Who's that guy in the coat

think he is anyways?

Bo Diddley?

Veronica's into his act, no doubt.

I don't know. Probably row out

to the middle of a lake,

bring along a bottle of tequila,

my sax and some Bach.

How very.

Come on, Veronica.

Later.

Definitely.

Let's kick his ass.

Sh*t, Ram, we're seniors, man.

We're too old for kind of that kind of crap.

Let's give him a good scare, though.

You going to eat this?

What did your boyfriend say when you told

him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?

Answer him, dick.

Hey, Ram, doesn't this cafeteria

have a "no fags allowed" rule?

They seem to have an open-door policy

for a**holes, though, don't they?

What did you say, d*ckhead?

I'll repeat myself.

They won't expel him, they'll just

suspend him for a week or something.

He used a real gun.

They should throw his ass in jail.

No way. He used blanks.

All JD really did was ruin two pairs of pants.

Maybe not even that.

Can you bleach out urine stains?

You seem pretty amused. I thought

you had given up on high school guys.

Never say never.

What are you going to do, Heather?

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