High School Page #5

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- Okay, okay, okay.

If you speak a word of this

to anyone and I'll make sure

what you're feeling right now

is permanent.

I'm the pope of dope.

I can make that happen.

Maybe I just dosed the milk

you just downed

with high-grade liquid acid.

Keep your mouth shut, homes.

Well, did you?!

Die, Leonard! Die!

I'm gonna murder you!

Perhaps you'd like some lunch?

This is great, man.

How are we supposed to get

the keys from him?

Are you joking?

I wanna see what it looks like

when someone is murdered.

Ah!

What if we could unlock

the surveillance room

without even going near

Dr. Gordon?

How, man? How?

# Watch out,

here we go again #

# Just say my name

and I will bend #

# I'll kill you with my words #

# And I'll kill you with mine... #

Gordors a psycho.

He canceled his wife's

gym membership

because he thought

she was f***ing her trainer,

but gave her a spare set of keys

so she could work out here.

Must keep in shape

with all the sport f***ing she does.

- Wait, what?

- She's a cougar, dipshit.

A f***ing coug.

What school have you been going to?

Everybody's f***ed her, man.

- I-I haven't.

- Well, everyone but you.

- You haven't.

- Everyone but us.

- The Daves?

- Shut the f*** up, all right!

It's a breeze.

I go out there, I distract her...

Wait, let me guess,

let me guess.

While... while I commit another felony,

sneak into the mers locker room,

and then bing, bang,

boom, and we dip.

- Exactly.

- Right.

You grab the keys from her purse

while we're having sex.

What?

# Just say my name

and I will bend #

# With mine. #

Mind if I turn up the heat?

Wha... what do you...

what do you think you're doing?

Having a hell of a day.

Thought I'd chill

the f*** out in the pool.

You know, get out of here.

Get out of here

before you get yourself

into some serious trouble,

young man. Okay?

I won't tell if you won't.

Look, how the hell

did you get in here?

- Hmm?

- I'm... I'm into you.

Seriously, I'm down.

I'm calling the police.

You shut your blood clat, Mommy.

What do you tink

I came in here for?

What did you just say?

Let me peep them Babylons,

you ras-clat.

All right, listen, you little bastard.

I'm gonna have you arrested so fast

that your head will spin.

- Do you understand me?

- I ain't scared of no 5-0.

- Why are you talking like that?

- What?

Oh, yeah.

- What is that?

- What?

Oh, I hear it.

How weird.

Is someone here?

Hello?

Let's stop this.

Amanda?

Hello?

"Jizz coming out

of my Johnson..."

- That's just creepy.

- I definitely hear somebody.

"Hog in your mud..."

Administration office?

- Pass the towel.

- No.

- Huh, that was weird.

- Yeah.

I can drive tonight if you want.

F***, yeah!

You were like the star of your own

ninja porno back there...

"Enter the Cougar."

- Watch this, biatch.

- There's the old sense of humor.

He's holding out on us, man.

I know it.

F***ing notebook?

Espaol.

What the hell is this sh*t?

Need to freshen up a bit.

This is gonna get ugly.

A case can be made that things

have already gotten pretty ugly, Edward.

You read my mind, man.

How you be doing

that fuckir sh*t?

You guys better wait here.

- Gladly.

- Fuckir weirdos.

Paranoid:
Don't... don't...

don't make no eye contact.

They've got laser blades.

They can reset your brain.

Thanks for the warning.

Flies in the web.

Yeah, we got 'em. Reel 'em.

Okay, where's my piss pump?

We have to rig that sh*t up

before we get chi-chi faced.

Here.

This one has a black

prosthetic dick, a**hole.

- What if they take a look, man?

- Maybe you just have a tan cock.

Give me your cock.

Looks Latino.

Fine, take that cock.

I'll wear your

black shriveled dick.

Wait.

Let's make sure there are

no motherfuckers in here listening.

I'm a surveillance room key.

What do I look like?

Move Neville's nipple

or suck on it already, biatch.

- Try them again.

- I did, man, all of them. Twice.

This must be the door.

So where's the fuckir key?

What's poppir off, gentlemen?

- Care for a bite, Henry?

- Uh, no, thanks.

- I'm, uh, fasting.

- Oh, well, that's a shame.

I've heard they're delicious.

Too bad chocolate reminds me

of human feces.

- Weird day, isn't it?

- It's high school.

Everyday is weird.

See you, Sebastian.

I found a dumpster full of brownies.

I ask you,

why would someone

wanna throw away

so many perfectly good brownies?

You should have a brownie.

- Pure THC kills nausea.

- Henry:
F*** off, Doctor.

- # I am the walrus! #

- Boy:
Coo coo ca choo.

We should get this whole school

high more often.

- More often?

- Yeah, on a scale

between a prostate exam

and a reggae festival,

it's somewhere around giving

your mother multiple orgasms.

What kind of scale is that?

You know, you find this

really fuckir funny, don't you?

This could really tarnish

your .65 GPA.

I mean, your bright future is totally

hanging in the balance, Breaux.

Yeah, I... I do have plans,

for your information.

The Daves and I,

we wanna travel,

learn to play the sitar, and then

eventually settle somewhere else.

Maybe Nicaragua.

You know, and I... I know buying land

out there can be pretty sketchy

because the government

can pretty much jack it

whenever they want,

but f*** it, right?

Wow, man.

It's a hell of a plan, really.

Oh, sh*t.

- What?

- Hi.

Where is it?

It's, uh... it's gone.

It's gone, man.

What?

That's impossible.

Where is it?

There was enough kief to get

this whole f***ing school high.

You sick, twisted fucks.

You did get the whole school high.

Now... now, that's just the most

mental thing I've ever seen.

But you pinched

the wrong mars load.

Okay, okay, we'll pay you back.

We'll pay it back, okay?

- You don't have enough.

- There's cameras, there's cameras.

There's cameras?!

- Oh, sh*t! Oh, sh*t!

- There's cameras?

Where's the camera?

Where's the camera?

Huh? Huh?

Where's the camera?

Where's the camera?

Is that a camera?

- No, no. No, no, no. Okay.

- Oh, sh*t.

You think I give a f***

about cameras?

The bake sale...

they're raising money.

- How much?

- I don't know! I don't know!

I don't know.

We'll pay it back, we'll pay it back.

- We'll find it.

- I want it in an hour.

- Two hours.

- What the f***?

Two hours.

Please, please.

That'll get you

till the end of the day.

And then we're gonna

have a very

serious talk.

- Huh?

- Okay, okay, okay.

Does this happen to you a lot?

What the f*** are we gonna do

about that freak Sebastian

and Dr. Gordors

surveillance footage?

F*** that. Let's worry about

staying out of the morgue first,

then jail.

- What?

- We find the bake sale cash box

and we pay off Psycho Ed.

And we have a whole two hours.

- Right.

- "Thank you, Breaux."

Right, which gives us

till about 10 after 12.

F***! No, I can't.

I've got my computer skills final.

All right, I'll fuckir deal.

Go be a superstar.

There's tape on the keys.

- How am I supposed to type?

- Dana:
It's a final, you 'tard.

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