I Know What You Did Last Summer

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1

see the curtains

hanging in the window

people trying

not alive

a little light

a-shining in the window

lets me know

everything's all right

summer breeze.

Makes me feel fine.

Blowing through the Jasmine

in my mind

summer breeze

makes me feel fine

blowing through the Jasmine

in my mind

[chimes]

- [Wind whistling]

- [Crunching]

[Rocks tumbling]

[Birds squawking]

[Piercing whistle]

["Stars and stripes forever"]

[Noisemakers blaring]

[Crowd cheering, chattering]

[Man on microphone]

I tell you what.

That's got to be the prettiest girl

we've ever had in competition.

I tell ya.

Now let's welcome back

our six finalists onstage.

Come on back out, girls.

[Crowd clapping, cheering]

There they are. They're as

pretty as they can be,

aren't they? I'll tell you.

We're proud of you, girls.

You worked hard. Your mamas

and daddies have worked hard.

We're mighty proud of you.

[Cheering, whistling continue]

All right!

Whoo-hoo!

God, look at her.

I mean, she was born for this.

I had no idea her

breasts were so ample.

[Laughs] Dude, she does these

exercises that pump 'em up.

Guys, hi. I'm on sexist

overload as it is.

Kill the commentary.

Now, in the spirit

of mother Teresa,

what will be your contribution to your

community and the world at large?

Well, Bob, at summer's end I

plan to move to New York City,

where I'll pursue a career

as a serious actress.

It's my goal to entertain the world

through artistic expression.

Through art,

I shall serve my country.

[Crowd cheering]

Do you feed her

this sh*t?

Work it, babe.

Man, they're eatin' it up.

Look, she's incredible.

And now, this year's

croaker queen is...

Miss Helen shivers!

[Crowd applauds, screams]

["Anchors aweigh"]

Yeah!

Yeah, that's my girl!

That's my girl!

[Inaudible chattering]

That's my girlfriend!

Helen!

[Laughing]

[Squealing]

Yeah, baby, yeah!

My baby's got

the strangest ways of saying

whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo

my baby's got

the strangest ways of saying

whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo

a strip of jerky

long and lean

serve it up

with a side of mean

my baby's got

the strangest ways of saying

whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo

how's my hair?

Hurricane-proof.

Hey, it's all about the hair.

Don't you forget that.

Especially when you become

some big hotshot lawyer.

Those professional women types think

it's all about brains and ability...

And completely ignore

the "do".

So, the "do's" vital.

Got it.

[Both laugh]

Hey, you ridin' with me?

Uh, no, tell mom I'll be late.

Uh, is little miss croaker

getting sauteed tonight?

Ho, a twit with a wit.

Eat me.

Hey, Julie.

Brought you a shooter on the house.

Oh, thanks, Max, but you know

what, I have this mental block.

I can't get past the slime.

How 'bout I take you out

before you leave town?

You know, kind of

a bon voyage thing.

Oh, uh--

you know what-- I-I don't,

I don't think so, Max.

We've been friends

since forever.

Now, you can't just leave

without a farewell, right?

Right.

A toast to us.

To our last summer of...

Immature, adolescent

decadence.

[Laughter]

[Helen] Somebody's buzzed.

[Laughs]

Yo, chum bait, take a hike.

Hey! Hey!

[Grunts]

Hey, easy! Easy!

Hey! Come on, man.

Barry, they're just friends.

Man, this is tired.

Hey, ray, just taking care

of your girl like I promised.

Thanks, buddy.

Let's blow.

Yeah, hey, let's beam down to

Dawson's beach. Little joyride.

Good-bye.

[The offspring:
"D.U.I."]

[Tires screeching]

[Ray] So the boy and girl

are making out, right,

when they hear over the radio

that this lunatic killer's

escaped from an insane asylum.

He's got this long, sharp hook

for a hand, right?

[Barry] Dude, your tellin' it

wrong.

[Ray] Shut up.

So the girl, she gets all scared, right?

She wants to go home.

And the boy, all hot and bothered,

he gets pissed and peels out.

[Barry] Wait. No, no, no.

That's not the way it goes.

Okay, the boy goes for help,

and the girl stays in the car, and she

hears this, like, scratching sound--

it's not a scratching sound.

It's a drip.

Drip, drip.

No, it's scratching

because the guy's been hung...

From a tree and his feet

are scratching on the car.

No.

He's been decapitated, and it's the

blood from his severed neck...

That's dripping on the car, and

it's going, drip, drip, drip.

No, he wasn't decapitated.

He was gutted with a hook.

That's the way

I heard it.

Look, you're all wrong.

They get back to the girl's

house, and they find...

The lunatic's bloody hook

in the car door.

Now, that's the original story.

That's the way it really happened.

Hey, hey.

None of it really happened.

- It's a bullshit ghost story to begin with.

- No, it's not.

It's true.

[Helen] Yeah, I don't think so, ray.

I swear it.

Please.

It's a fictional story

created to warn young girls...

Of the dangers

of having premarital sex.

[Ray]

Well, actually, honey--

and you know how terrified

I am of your I.Q., but--

it's an urban legend,

American folklore.

And they all usually originate from

some sort of real-life incident.

[Wave breaks loudly]

[Yelling, laughing]

So, by that time,

i will just be finishing my

two-year contract on guiding light,

coinciding with your first year as

starting quarterback for the steelers.

Cowboys.

Whoever.

Then, we can elope

to Europe, or the Caymans,

wherever, where I'll let you

impregnate me...

With the first of three children...

[Laughs]

[Grunts]

Before you head off

to rehab.

And then we can live

happily,

blah, blah, blah.

[Julie]

Ray? Ray?

Where'd you go?

[Footsteps approaching quickly]

[Ray] I'm gonna hook you!

[Screams, laughs]

Hey, ray, you don't really

believe all that crap, do you?

That's true.

Please, the hook is

really a phallic symbol.

Oh, really?

Yeah, ultimately castrated.

[Giggles] God, I'm gonna

miss you.

You don't have to.

You can always ditch this Boston thing,

and, uh, come

to New York with me.

Yeah, well, we can't all sit in a

village coffeehouse and ramble

esoterically on our laptops.

There just isn't

enough room.

See, nobody gets me the way you do.

I understand your pain.

Precisely.

I hate this. I really hate this.

You're gonna go off, and you're

gonna fall for some head-shaven,

black-wearing, tattoo-covered,

body-piercing philosophy student.

That sounds attractive.

And I'll never see you again.

Hey!

Did you know the success rate of high

school sweetheart relationships...

Is higher than any other type

of relationship?

Yeah?

Cite your source.

Are you sure?

Kings and queens

from a fortress

of sheets

watch tv

they may hear us

in magazines

Okay, man, but give me the keys.

You're-you're toast.

Whose car is this?

N-nobody drives my car but me.

I-I-I know, baby.

Um, but the croaker queen

has to get home now.

Thank you.

Hey, you two.

Give me my f***in' keys.

You're trashed, pal.

All right. Come on.

Come ride in the back with me.

I'll let you do things to me.

Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

Nobody drives my car but me.

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