High School

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And now, the last finalist,

three-time champion

Charlyne Phuc.

Excuse me.

Ah!

First word:
Logorrhea.

Logorrhea, um...

L- o-g-o-r-r...

w- wait...

Logorrhea...

like diarrhea, but different.

I mean, they're both

kind of like a spray,

but logorrhea,

that's a spray of words

from the mouth, you know?

And, like, diarrhea,

which is also a spray,

but it comes

from a different orifice.

What in the world?

Ugh.

F***, am I, like, way off?

There is breaking news tonight

from the State Spelling Bee

Championship

as Morgan High's own

Charlyne Phuc has been arrested

for drug possession.

Phuc has admitted

using marijuana

during her three-time

championship run

in order to assist her mortal mind

in accessing

the dictionary inscribed

in the fabric of the cosmos...

And that no one would have noticed

if she hadrt been so buttstonked.

Shh.

Shut up, Dave.

Sh... shut up, Dave.

# The wind blows cool

across my face... #

Dave, take my weed.

# I can smell the taste,

a trace of lace #

# There's something

sinister in place... #

- Hold his feet.

- I am, Dave.

- Dave, roll that sh*t.

- I am, Dave.

- Holy...

- F***.

Hey, Mom? I got some

MIT scholarship stuff that I filled out.

If you could drop it in the mail,

I'd appreciate it.

Honey,

I clogged the toilet again.

The plunger should be

under the sink.

- Where?

- The back.

- Oh, I... I got it.

- All right, thanks.

- I love you.

- # My mind slips further #

# From what's real #

# Take my hands away

from the steering wheel... #

# I'm crashing,

coming down in waves #

# And wipe the sweat

from upon my face #

# And it's a perfect day

to leave this place... #

- Ooh.

- # It's a perfect day #

# To hide down

in my own home... #

What the f***?!

Watch where

the f*** you step, Henry!

Watch where the f*** you step!

# It's a perfect day #

# To waste away... #

# Your perfect part to play... #

# Just another perfect day,

but before you know, it's gone... #

# It's a perfect day to waste away #

- # Your perfect part to play... #

- Sh*t.

# Just another perfect day,

but before you know, it's gone. #

Oh!

Bravo, f***ers.

"I swallow."

Shut up.

D- Dad. No...

- It won't happen again. I promise.

- I expect you to pay

every last penny

of my deductible.

In the meantime, you can spend

this afternoon in detention.

Yes, sir.

- Come along, Martin.

- Yes, Daddy.

Hey.

Hey, Breaux.

I hit Dr. Gordon because of you.

I shouldn't have to pay

for his car, man.

All right, well, tough sh*t.

I mean, you're the one who crashed

- into that butthole Gordon.

- To avoid hitting you!

News flash:
Wearing headphones

while driving is against the law.

You know, I don't think I should take

behavior advice from a burner flunky.

- Ouch, dude!

- Yeah, well, why don't you take

your science-fair,

national-scholar status

and cram it up your a**hole?

You know, Breaux...

Yeah, thank you.

Way to be a hambro.

It wasrt like I made him crash into

that man-whore's piece-of-sh*t car.

That's what that scrotum

skin tag Gordon gets

for teaching his fat little clone

how to give a hand job.

Rollir on 12s, son.

Aw, come on.

He's behind you!

What?

What?

You know what

the problem is here, Brandon?

Why our average GPA has dropped

three times in as many years?

Uh, the Internet?

The sticky green.

The cannabis sativa.

The sinsemilla.

Marijuana?

Which is serious stuff.

Dangerous stuff, so I hear.

It's a gateway drug.

Hop-heads like Travis Breaux

have been a thorn on my side

ever since they came here.

That little prick has caused me

more pain than you know.

- My cat...

- Yeah?

...developed an abscess on her face.

I rushed her to the vet

emergency room,

but their nitrous oxide tank

had been stolen.

They later tracked the culprits down

to the home of one Travis Breaux.

Without anesthesia,

I had to pin Dolly down.

She scratched my face, my hand.

I developed a terrible infection.

It's called "cat scratch fever."

My stool became

incredibly painful to pass.

I lost weight, but gained body fat.

I was a mess.

Then I heard my wife telling

her friends that I looked lousy.

My attorney advised me against

taking any sort of action.

No evidence to press charges

against Travis Breaux,

but I knew... I knew

he was responsible,

breathing in that laughing gas filth.

They call it "space surfing."

Where do they come up

with all these clever names

for recreational drug use?

Roasting a bone,

candy flipping,

banging down a stiff loosey.

A stiff loosey...

I haven't heard that one.

When a woman from

a sordid underworld social circle

inales powdered cocaine

off of some loser's erect penis

and then doses acid

off of his testicles...

I think it has something

to do with the Beatles.

Now, they ruined our nation...

drugs, fornicating,

a grown man singing

about his feelings.

It's time we win this war,

expunge this school

of all dope fiends.

Henry:
So I've created

a hybrid compound

with a resistance two times that

of regular silicon.

Used as the basis material

for electronics,

it would provide

increased protection

against power surges,

magnetic waves.

This is an electromagnetic

pulse generator.

Actually, could everyone

take a step back?

It's a localized pulse, but it will fry

your laptops, your hard drives.

It'll kill your cell phones

if you're too close.

Tick, tick, tick.

So as you can see,

the motherboard

manufactured by my compound

is the undamaged one.

Sh*t.

Bitter aftertaste of reality?

You come to see

how the other half lives?

- Boy:
Mr. Thompson here?

- He went lookir for you.

Hey, fool, that's my shirt

you got on.

I gave it to Goodwill last year.

Fuckir hobo.

Don't trip, Rubin.

I'm sure he washed

your dad's cum off of it.

What the f*** you just say to me?

I said I'm sure he washed

your dad's cum off of it.

Or did some dry up in your ears?

You should clean them f***ers out.

Try an ear candle, yo.

Rubin?

Why aren't you in your seat?

You know, we could have

a little Abu Ghraib action here,

or we could watch our video.

It's your call.

I'm just gonna go ahead

and sit down.

Good choice.

It's all ready. Just hit play.

Everybody, pay attention.

And no talking.

Narrator on TV:
With his parents

out of town for the weekend,

Bob bends to the pressure

of his peers to be somebody

and smokes a joint.

That's street talk

for a marijuana cigarette.

Bob lights up and takes a drag.

What he doesn't realize is that

this seemingly harmless act

will bring the walls

of his reality crashing down.

Narrator:
Is this your idea

of getting jiggy with it?

Narrator:

Applesauce 10 times a day.

Man on TV:

How are you feeling?

- Boy:
This video eats my balls.

- Boy #2:
Word.

Woman on TV:
Dr. Gibson,

you're wanted in lobotomy room 7.

Dr. Gibson to lobotomy room 7.

Narrator:

It will also help fund terrorism.

I only really want to blow things up

when I'm high.

Think about it.

Man over radio:

Engage. Smoke 'em.

Henry.

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