High School High Page #6

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Mr. D couldn't make it. He's out with Mr. C.

You're early.

DeMarco's early.

Say what? You?

Mr. Clark, Miss Chapell,

what are you doing here?

No need to be so formal, boys.

We're not in school anymore.

Two seconds you gonna be

one dead teacher. How's that for formal?

Now, we work for DeMarco,

buying and selling drugs.

We're lowlife scumbags. Just like you.

- What are you talking about?

- What better cover than...

a teacher and a secretary?

Administrative assistant.

Yes, all right.

All right, enough of this small talk.

I've got business with Mr. A. Where is he?

I'm right here.

- Clark?

- Ms. Doyle?

Around here they call me Mr. A.

Mister?

I inherited the business

from my late husband.

- I'm shocked.

- What?

That a woman can run a business?

No. That you were ever married.

All right. Let's do it.

What exactly is she doing here?

She's my b*tch.

Well, my significant other.

We've been slapping skins

for quite some time now.

You say you work for DeMarco.

Why should I believe you?

Why would I have his briefcase

unless I was working for him?

That doesn't prove anything.

You could have seen him

down in the restaurant...

dressed up like a waiter,

created some kind of diversion...

while she snatched it from under the table.

That's a little far-fetched, don't you think?

Wait a minute. Think about it.

You think he's capable of all that?

Hey, all right.

What's the big idea?

- You work out?

- All right. Knock it off.

I say we off him now,

and then do what we want with their bodies.

Easy, Paco, easy.

So, you like getting high, Clark?

Who doesn't?

Then perhaps you'd like to sample

the finest crank in town.

Sure. Load me up a spike.

Let's get this party into gear.

- Look man, he's clean. No tracks.

- I take mine in the ass.

Got used to it as a kid. Shots.

You're starting to piss me off, man.

Maybe you don't have enough holes

in your head already.

Excuse me.

Something seems to be riding up here.

What's going on there?

Nothing I know rides up that high.

Here.

Tie off.

You really should have someone

look at that. It could be malignant.

Quit stalling.

We don't want to be here all night.

Here's looking at you, kid.

This sh*t be kicking.

Man, I'm wasted off my ass

and you're still ugly.

False alarm.

Some idiot put a gun in the microwave.

Good stuff?

So what have you got to say for yourself?

Nothing, really.

Except it's going to be an interesting

morning tomorrow, after my coffee.

I'll need at least two magazines.

- So it's all here?

- As far as you know.

- Half a million?

- Really?

Yes, down to the penny.

Now, I'll just take my stuff

and be on my way.

Wait here.

Griff, you got to get out of here.

You're throwing your life away,

messing around with these drug dealers.

- Look who's talking.

- No, he's not a real drug dealer.

He's just pretending. He's here to save you.

- You risked your life to come here for me?

- Yeah, of course I did.

Well, not the risking-my-life part.

Anyway, look, Paco switched the tests, and

the police are probably already on their way.

We got to get out before...

- It's the waiter and his trainee.

- Yeah. Where the hell's our dinner?

You jughead.

They're the ones who stole our briefcase.

DeMarco, what's going on?

Is this your idea of a straight deal?

- We thought Clark was your guy.

- I never seen him before tonight.

Hey. Another one of these,

one of us is gonna have an orgasm.

Clark, you never should have messed

with me. I don't want him found.

No problem.

No.

- Come on, G's. They're down this way.

- You guys.

In the house.

Doyle is getting away. Stop her.

Seems to me

we've got some unfinished business.

You're forgetting a couple things,

aren't you?

- Yeah, what's that?

- Richard's not here to help you this time.

And?

I have a frozen pig's foot.

What's he doing?

What's going on?

Come on!

Look! There's a bigger man,

and he's got a gun!

- Christ!

- Sorry.

This was a new suit, pickle dick.

Get back.

What are you fossils staring at?

Eat your vegetables.

Get back! I'm gonna walk out of here.

You punks get out of the way.

I'm gonna count to three, and if you're

not moving, I'm gonna start shooting.

Do what she says, kids.

Chill, Mr. Clark.

She ain't shooting nothing but the breeze.

You kids are even bigger boneheads

than I thought.

And everybody knows it, too,

except for this fool.

You know, Ms. Doyle, that's just what you...

and people like you,

want everyone to think, isn't it?

That somehow, no matter what goes down,

we just can't cut it.

You use that as an excuse to hold us back...

but Mr. Clark showed us

that there is another way.

Another way to flunk.

Think we failed that test? Listen up.

If x is 17, plus the square root of 4,

minus 6...

what's x?

Thirteen.

Famous Russian author of

The Brothers Karamazov?

Who is Dostoyevsky.

The Gadsden Purchase formed parts

of what two states?

Arizona and New Mexico.

All right, I'll shoot him.

- What's the capital of Ecuador?

- Quito!

Back off! I mean it.

- NASA's Apollo Program ended what year?

- 1975!

Stay away from me.

Who was responsible

for the first moonwalk?

Michael Jackson!

What did he say?

No, I'm just playing, man.

It was Louis Armstrong's brother, Neil.

What group...

is responsible for the consumption

of the most doughnuts in Los Angeles?

- Police!

- Right.

Nobody move. Get your hands up.

This isn't what it looks like.

Say hello to Mr. A.

So this is Mr. A.

We've been looking for him for years.

You're under arrest, fellow.

Hey, partner, there's about five more

gangster-pops in the freezer.

It was her, man.

She masterminded the whole thing.

- I'll testify in court. She's Mr. A.

- We know.

Could I borrow your coat?

I can't feel my legs.

Come on, let me go, man.

I'll give you $50,000.

Ms. Doyle,

I guess we just got off on the wrong foot.

No hard feelings.

Wonderbra?

I swear to God, Clark,

when I get out, I'm gonna hunt you down...

and beat you like a circus monkey.

By the way, happy birthday.

This sh*t be kicking.

And now, to present the diplomas...

principal pro tem, Richard C. Clark.

Will the graduates please rise and begin...

Richard, I never thought I'd say this...

but I was wrong about you, son.

I can't believe

what you've accomplished here.

Thanks, Dad.

When I call your name,

please step forward to receive your diploma.

Anferny Jefferson.

Julie Rubels.

There's Mommy.

Achmed Duvded.

Natalie Thompson.

And the valedictorian of our class,

with a 2.35 GPA...

Griff McReynolds.

You did it, buddy.

Way to go, Griff! That's my boy!

That's my boy.

Good for you, Griff!

For all of you who did not

make the journey to this stage today...

I say to you, work as hard as you can...

do a couple hours

of homework each night...

and nothing can stop you.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the graduating class of 1996.

Graduates, graduate!

Coming up on the 11:00 report...

Sparky the rottweiler is still missing

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