Heathers Page #6

She's in stable condition.

Just another case of a geek trying to imitate

the popular people and failing miserably.

Is that pt?

- I said I was sorry.

- You were out of control.

Heather and Kurt were a shock

but Martha Dumptruck?

Get crucial. She dialled

suicide hotlines in her diapers.

You're not funny.

Look, Martha couldn't take the heat

so she got out of the kitchen.

Just think what a better place this world

would be if every nimrod followed her cue.

Just shut up. Hot Probs is on.

Oh, sh*t. Yeah.

'Skipper's OK but sometimes

I feel like I'm on that island

'and Gilligan can be so stupid sometimes... '

If it wasn't for the courage

of the fearless crew,

the Minnow would be lost,

and you are too.

Next call.

'Hey, you've got the dog-catcher.'

'My name is Heather.

No... it's not Heather.'

No, it...

It's Madonna. Jeez. No, not that.

Hey, babe, I need a name.

My name is Tweety.

'Tweety?

'Ooh, tweet! '

God has cursed me, I think.

The last guy I had sex with

killed himself the next day.

I'm failing math.

My whole life is a mess.

I'm supposed to be captain of

the cheerleading...

She knows we listen to this show.

Holy sh*t! We'll crucify her.

'... my parents are divorced and stuff... '

'Heather told everyone about Heather.

'Yes, dear diary,

I've cut off Heather Chandler's head

'and Heather Duke's head

has sprouted in its place

'like some mythological thing

'my eighth-grade boyfriend

would have known about.

'Heather's even doing the old note trick.

' I've seen JD's way.

'I've seen Miss Pauline Fleming's way

'and nothing has changed.

'I guess that's Heather's way.

'And, Jesus, what about JD?

'I can't get him out of my head.

'Wait. Where's Heather going? '

Where's Heather going?

She's going to cry.

F***ing child protector caps.

Now where is she going?

Heather.

- What are you trying to do? Kill me?

- What are you trying to do? Sleep?

Suicide is a private thing.

Heather, you're throwing your life away

to become a statistic

in the US f***ing A Today.

That's the least private thing I can think of.

What about Heather and Kurt and Ram?

If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?

Probably.

Hey now, if you were happy

every day of your life,

you wouldn't be a human being,

you'd be a game show host.

What do you say we knock off early,

buy some shoes, something lame like that?

OK.

So it's come to this.

Heather Chandler did polls,

I want you to do a petition,

as a favour, as the favour.

You've heard of the group Big Fun, right?

That's right. Teenage Suicide Don't Do It.

Right. Some teenybopper rag

says that they want to play a prom.

It could be Westerburg's

if we get everybody's John Hancock.

I'll get right on it, coach.

Little gift for you. I won't be needing it.

Heather?

Veronica.

Colour me stoked, girl.

Everyone's signed this petition,

even the ones who think

Big Fun are tuneless Eurofags.

People love me.

You haven't signed yet.

People love you but I know you.

Jennifer Forbes told me

the petition she signed

was to put a hot tub in the cafeteria

and Doug Hilton said...

Some people need

different kinds of convincing.

Just sign the petition, OK?

Don't talk to me like that, OK?

Look, it was JD's idea.

He made out the signature sheet

and everything so why not just sign it?

No.

Jealous much?

Heather, why can't you just be a friend?

Why are you such a megabitch?

Because I can be.

Veronica, why are you pulling my dick?

Do you think if Betty Finn's

fairy godmother made her cool,

she'd still hang out

with her dweebette friends?

No way, Veronica.

Uh-uh.

Want to go out tonight?

Catch a movie, some miniature golf?

I was thinking more along the lines

of slitting Heather Duke's wrists open,

making it look like a suicide.

Now you're talking. I could be up for that.

I've already started

underlining meaningful passages

in her copy of Moby Dick,

if you know what I mean.

I knew you'd be back, Veronica.

I knew it. I was positive sure.

It's over, JD, over.

Grow up!

You don't get it.

You were wrong. I was right.

Strength, damn it!

Come on, come back!

Yes?

Your friend Jason Dean stopped by.

He seemed very concerned about you.

He said he thought

you might try to kill yourself.

You have been depressed lately.

Oh, he left this for you.

Oh, my God.

He said that we should

keep you away from sharp objects,

closed garage doors,

chemical, uh, substances.

- Prescription drugs.

- Prescription drugs.

"To neither love

nor reverence wilt thou be kind,

"and even for hate thou canst but kill,

"and all are killed."

I like it.

It's got that what-a-cruel-world

so let's-toss-ourselves-in-the-abyss

type of ambiance, huh?

Come on. It's Heather's copy of Moby Dick.

Why don't you give it a try?

Underline something.

Get off of my bed, you f***ing psycho!

You think you're a rebel?

Do you actually think you're a rebel?

You're not a rebel.

You're f***ing psychotic.

You say "tom-ay-to", I say "tom-ah-to".

Hold it.

Eskimo. Look at that.

That's one word. I love it!

I usually go for the whole sentence myself

but this is perfecto.

Eskimo, you know, it's so, uh, mysterious.

Eskimo.

Come on.

JD, you are not listening to me.

Nag. Nag. Nag. Nag. Nag!

Th-th-that knife is filthy.

Do you think I'm going to

take out her tonsils with it?

Excuse me, I think I know Heather

a little better than you do.

If she was going to slit her wrists,

the knife would be spotless.

How's this? Can you see your f***ing

reflection in the thing?

Tomorrow someone else

will move into her place.

That person could be me.

Ha! There's only one of us

knows Heather's handwriting.

If you think I'll write another suicide note,

you're wrong.

You don't get it! Society nods its head

at any horror the American teenager

can think to bring upon itself.

Nobody's going to care about

exact handwriting. Help me. Quick.

Life sucks.

It's perfecto.

Jesus, I've got

a meaningfully marked-up Moby Dick.

What else does a suicide need, huh?

Now, if you'll excuse me.

No!

Open the door!

Eskimo.

Heather Duke underlined a lot of things

in this copy of Moby Dick

but I believe the word Eskimo,

underlined all by itself,

is the key to understanding Heather's pain.

On the surface, Heather Duke

was the vivacious young lady

we all knew her to be...

but her soul was in Antarctica,

freezing with the knowledge

of the way fellow teenagers can be cruel...

the way that parents can be unresponsive...

and as she writes so eloquently

in her suicide note,

the way that life can suck.

We'll all miss Sherwood's little Eskimo.

Let's just hope

she's rubbing noses with Jesus.

Is this turnout weak or what?

I had at least 70 more people at my funeral.

Heather?

Oh, God, Veronica,

my afterlife is so boring.

If I have to sing Kumbaya one more time...

What are you doing here?

I made your favourite -

spaghetti.

Lots of oregano.

Dinner!

Veronica! Dinner!

'Dear diary, last entry.

'No one can stop JD -

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