Me and Earl and the Dying Girl
I have no idea
how to tell this story.
I don't even know
how to start it.
one of those classic
story beginning sentences.
"It was the best of times;
it was the worst of times."
But what would that even mean?
I mean, obviously,
somewhere in the world,
it's the best of times
for someone.
Like he's eating all this insane
Vietnamese food
he just got for free...
...and the woman
who delivered the food
looks exactly like the hot
girl from P*ssy Riot
and now she's situated
in the corner
playing unspeakably beautiful
melodies on the harp.
While he's just going to town
on that food.
So, yeah,
that's the best of times.
Meanwhile, some other guy
is having
his will broken
by professional torturers...
over a crocodile-infested
pool of acid.
And because it's acid,
these crocodiles
are just pissed.
And they're also piping in
...when they spill
a bunch of milk
is just punching
the hell out of him.
Check.
All right, look.
I'll just start.
This is the story of
my senior year of high school
and how it destroyed my life.
And how I made a film so bad,
this way:
Schenley High School
was a world unto itself.
By senior year, I had mastered
the languages and customs
of its various sovereign states.
The head nods of Jock Nation.
The fist bumps
of the Kingdom of Stoners.
The innocuous witticisms of
The People's Republic
of Theater Dorks.
Greg, how was your summer?
Summer. What does that word
even mean?
Like, more "summ"?
In a typical high school life,
you belong to one nation...
...which can never
guarantee you total security.
But I thought
I found a way out.
Get citizenship in every nation.
Get passports to everywhere.
Just be on low-key
good terms with everyone...
...casually interact with them
once in a while...
...in a way that is invisible
to everyone else.
Never commit to an interaction
that won't be casual or mellow.
Your test was today?
Ugh. Tests!
I've been there.
That's like sending troops
to Afghanistan.
Maintain relationships
with citizens
of the most
dicked-upon nations.
For example, Scott Mayhew,
the gothy dork
I'm sitting next to here.
Scott, nice Berserker.
Thank you?
It took years of cultivation
to win his trust.
Or the universally
ostracized Ill Phil.
Truly a nation of one.
And there were some
places I simply couldn't go.
Like the cafeteria.
Every last square inch of it
was disputed territory.
It was Crimea, Kashmir,
and the Gaza Strip
all rolled into one.
Also the part of
the Indian Ocean with pirates.
Captain Phillips pirates,
not Pirates of the Caribbean.
Although, actually, who knows?
Maybe both.
Instead, I always ate lunch
in the office
of my history teacher.
Mr. McCarthy.
Fact:
I'm in 309 for
the next... 20 minutes.
The only reasonable adult
in all of Schenley.
Heathens.
Respect the research.
With Earl,
whose role in my life
I'm not even gonna try to
explain to you right now.
The harmony of overwhelming
and collective murder.
It doesn't matter if the hot
girl is also a good person.
She's a moose,
you're a chipmunk.
She's just wandering through
the forest, oblivious.
And she doesn't even know that
she stomped on your head.
Hey, Madison.
Hey, how was your summer?
Summer. What does that word
even mean, right?
More "summ."
Winter, same deal.
More "wint"?
McCarthy's in 309.
Great, thanks.
To become humbled
in front of
this overwhelming misery...
...and overwhelming
fornication
and overwhelming lack of order.
Titties.
Honey, can we come in?
Jesus, Jesus!
Yeah. What do you want?
First of all,
I was going through...
...your stuff
and I saw that you
have not even unwrapped
your college directory.
Mom, don't go through my stuff.
We discussed it, and she gets
to go through your stuff.
Just have a look.
It's fun.
It's like a menu
for your future.
What are you in the mood for?
Some Penn State?
Some Pepperdine?
Pomona? Princeton?
I'm not getting into Princeton.
He's not getting into Princeton.
Um, so, is that it?
No, honey, it's not it.
Your father and I want to talk to you
about something kind of sad.
What?
What happened?
Well, I just got off the phone
with Denise Kushner,
Rachel's mom. You know Denise?
Um, not really.
You're friends
with Rachel, though.
Yeah, I mean,
we're like, acquainted.
Come here.
Okay.
Rachel's been diagnosed
with leukemia.
They just found out.
Your test was today?
Ugh. Tests! I've been there.
Oh, God.
Is that serious?
They're doing
all kinds of tests.
They're doing
everything they can.
They just don't know.
Man, that sucks.
You're right.
It sucks.
Yeah.
Dad, Cat Stevens is clawing me.
Well, he's deeply distraught.
Well, you know,
I was talking to Denise...
you might be someone...
...who could make
Rachel feel better.
Yeah, but like I said,
we're not really friends, so...
Just give Rachel a call.
Yeah, well, what do you
want me to say?
"Hey, it's Greg, the guy who's
"never really paid
attention to you...
"...but now you have cancer,
so let's hang out"?
That's not gonna work.
She'll think
you're being sarcastic.
Are you telling me
you can't do
one nice thing
for another person?
I mean, honestly, is that
really what's happening here?
Fine. Okay.
Just, please don't
go through my stuff.
your stuff.
I hope you like tampons.
It's
Central Pittsburgh on 90.5...
This is Rachel.
Hey, it's Greg Gaines.
Hi.
Yo!
So, I called a doctor...
...he said you needed
a prescription of Greg-acil.
What's that?
Uh...
It's me.
In convenient gel-tab form.
Oh.
Yeah.
So, I guess
you heard I'm sick.
Yeah.
Did my mom tell you?
Um, well, my mom told me.
Oh.
So, um...
What?
What?
What were you gonna say?
Um...
Greg, what?
Uh, yeah,
I was just calling to see
if you wanted to hang out.
Right now?
Um, sure.
No, thanks.
Oh.
Okay, so you don't
wanna hang out?
No. Thanks anyways.
Okay. Um, bye.
Bye.
Mom, what are you doing?
Okay, Mom, listen,
she doesn't want to see me.
I'm sorry to be the one
to tell you, Gregory...
...that you do not
have a choice
in this particular matter.
Mom, please, let me say
one thing for one second.
You have been
given an opportunity
to make a very real difference
in someone's life.
And if what you're
choosing instead
is to lie around the house
all day...
She doesn't want to see me!
...I will be required
to step in...
We're not even friends!
...and inform you that
that is 100% unacceptable.
And if you think that all
these excuses you're making
are in any way better...
...or more important,
than the happiness
of a girl with cancer...
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Me and Earl and the Dying Girl" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/me_and_earl_and_the_dying_girl_13545>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In