Outrageous Fortune Page #2

If you do not, you're

gone from the class.

All right. We begin.

We begin with vowel groups.

Vowel groups.

Mr Weldon...

do you know the difference

between a Texas diphthong...

and a Georgia diphthong?

Sorry I'm late.

They made me fill out all these

dumb-ass financial aid forms.

You want 'em?

You want 'em?

I cannot believe... I absolutely

cannot believe he let her in!

And on scholarship!

I just bet I know what

she did as an audition.

The woman has no

training, no experience.

I mean, correct me if I'm wrong.

I really thought if you

worked at your craft, maybe...

just possibly, you'd get to

work with one of the greats.

It's $2.95, not $295.

I knew that.

Something's seriously

wrong with my life.

Excuse me.

- Are you all right?

- Better.

L-I w... I was just, um...

- Who cares? May I help you?

- Yeah.

- Have you got something in a pumpkin?

- The shade pumpkin?

- No, a pumpkin costume.

- Oh.

God, I sound like an idiot.

The reason is that I

teach grammar school.

- You're a

schoolteacher? - Uh-huh.

- You're not an actor?

- Oh, God, no. I'd be awful.

Why do you ask?

Oh, well, there's just so many

actors who come in here. Please go on.

Well, we're putting

on a little pageant...

and there's a kid in my

class who's very insecure.

You know, the other kids pick on

him and his mother doesn't sew...

and I think it would

give him such a boost...

to have the best darn

costume in the place.

So I thought a professional costumers

would have an incredible pumpkin.

But I can't go more than $50...

because this is coming

out of my own pocket.

I'm really sorry. I don't

think we have a pumpkin.

What about a squash?

We don't have any vegetables as such.

I'm sorry.

Well, this is the

last place on the list.

But I'll just throw something

together myself, huh?

I really appreciate your time. Thanks.

Um, uh, listen. I don't know,

maybe, uh, maybe someone...

Maybe I could, uh... I've

made a lot of my own costumes.

I'm sure it wouldn't be that

difficult. If I could help out, I'd...

like to.

That would be fabulous.

- I hope you'll forgive me, Lauren.

- For what?

L... I don't usually

lunge at women like that.

- Oh.

- But you just, uh...

I just had to kiss you.

L-I really am sorry and I hope

that you'll want to see me again.

Oh, where in the world

did you come from?

- New Mexico, originally.

- No, no, I mean...

how can a man so delightful as you...

be just wandering the

streets of New York?

Single, single, yeah.

I can't believe it.

Well, that's not by choice.

I'd like to be married.

- This isn't happening.

- Why not?

Well, there must be something wrong

with you. Don't you have any faults?

I smoke.

You smoke? That's it? Call the police!

No, no, no. It's an addiction.

Colton's tobacco. New Mexico's finest.

I hope you don't mind.

Well, I'll struggle through somehow.

Good. Very good.

Because, uh, I'd like

to see you again...

tomorrow night.

Well, yes.

Mmm, thank you.

What's this?

"Ooh, eee, ooh, ah, ooh, eee, ah, ooh."

- That's what you do in acting class?

- Those are vowel groups.

Mmm, sorry. "Wowel" groups.

- Ooh. -

Ooh. - Ooh.

- Ooh, I feel the same way.

- Ooh, ooh.

Will you please kiss

me hard on the lips?

That was tender, but tasty.

- Bite my face.

- Okay.

Bite my leg. Now bite my other leg.

- You get her two 1 X legs and...

- Going over the fence gymnastics?

Oh, oh, I'm sorry.

Oh, my. That kind of evening, huh?

Not the kind you're used

to. No money changed hands.

No, no, no, no. Reveal, reveal.

You have killed your father.

You have married your mother.

Na, no words, remember.

Na, reveal.

Here we have a sick sea lion. Go.

- Miss Brozinsky.

- Okay.

You will now perform for

us, also without words...

Hamlet's soliloquy.

Who's that?

Hamlet.

Hamlet.

Shakespeare's tragedy of Hamlet.

Ah, well.

Uh, for her, we get the comic book, huh?

Taxi!

Hey!

Hey!

Oh. Ooh, that creep

Korzenowski is driving me nuts.

Ooh.

I know what I need.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Oh, God!

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Ooh.

To die on the stage...

is perhaps the greatest

single challenge...

an actor can face.

The audience must know,

must absolutely believe...

that the breath, that the very life...

is going out of your body.

Now...

You! You will die now, please.

No, no, I don't believe you.

Maintain your focus.

Na, I don't believe you.

- Maintain your focus and lean forward.

- Stop, stop, stop. Stop it. Stop it.

- Are you all right?

- Fine.

Perhaps you would like to

die for us now, Miss Ames.

You, I think, I will shoot.

You will feel the

bullet enter your body.

You will lose all muscle control.

You will fall down dead.

Bang.

This can only be the achievement...

of years of training.

No other way would we ever

see so false a performance.

So mechanical, so thought-out.

Never for one moment truly felt.

Here, you must reach

deep inside yourself.

You must go beyond the

safety of what you know.

We know you can act, Camille...

but can you be a person

of flesh and blood?

Ah, time.

We die again tomorrow.

And, uh, please, give me your notebooks.

I wish to see them.

You can't walk there!

Hey, Ed, you want the delivery or not?

The man is a Nazi.

I have never been the

dumbest in any class before.

I haven't seen you for nine hours.

Taxi!

Taxi!

Mmm.

- You know what today is?

- No.

It's our third-week anniversary.

- Stop on the next corner.

- You got it.

- I think you need some roses.

- Oh, no, no, you can't afford any more flowers.

- Right here.

- No, don't stop.

- Half... Half a dozen.

- No, don't stop. I know what teachers make.

Don't stop.

Michael!

A crowd is gathered here. Traffic

is backed up for two blocks.

Killed in the explosion are Lee

Veran, the owner of the flower shop...

and Michael Santers, a teacher

at Holmes Elementary School.

Two terrorist groups have claimed

responsibility for the blast.

It's all right, Miss Ames. We've

got a positive ID from his wallet.

You don't have to see him.

I want to see him.

I warn you, there's

very little left to see.

Particularly in the,

uh, upper body region.

I wanna see him.

I'm very sorry you

feel a need to do this.

Just leave me alone with him, please.

What are you doing here?

- Me? What the f*** are you doing here?

- I beg your pardon.

- I am in mourning.

- Well, so am I!

- For my lover.

- Well, so am I!

- Who?

- Michael Santers.

- No, no, you little witch! No!

- You b*tch, you didn't know him!

- Oh, he loved me.

- How could you lie, little b*tch?

- Oh, get away from me! Oh!

- Get out of here right now!

- I'm gonna b*tch-slap you! I'm gonna break

every bone in your body! - Oh, you are?

- Oh, you are?

- Yes, I am!

How dare you! How dare you!

- Oh. Ooh.

- He loved me.

He loved me!

Loved you? Loved you?

- Damn right he did!

- Ha, that's obscene.

No, that's reality, baby, 'cause no

way did that guy give a sh*t about you!

I refuse to believe for one

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