Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise Page #2

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isn't there anything you can do, please?

Listen, I'm just a trainee, but let me

talk to my manager, Mr Munsinger.

- I'm sure he can straighten this out for you.

- That'd be great, uh...

- Sunny.

- Sunny.

Thanks. Sorry.

Mr Munsinger?

Excuse me. Um...

the Lambdas are here and the computer

shows we gave their room away.

- I don't want nerds staying in this hotel.

- But this poor guy has no place to stay.

Forget it. That room has to stay empty.

Why?

Fire law.

To which fire law are you referring, sir?

- Who's the manager of this hotel?

- Fred C Dobbs.

- Who's the acting manager?

- You, sir.

- Let's go three for three. Who's the trainee?

- Me, sir.

- Who's to obey the fire laws if I tell them to?

- Me, sir. Excuse me.

Now, where am l? Where were we?

Geek alert at three o'clock.

- Booger! Booger!

- Yeow, baby!

- Lewis has a problem.

- What?

He needs our help. Come on.

(growls)

Come on, Booger. Wormser!

So, how far is Daytona Beach

from Fort Lauderdale?

What?

Fort Lauderdale Men's Club, right?

No rooms available? OK, thanks.

Thanks.

- Hey, guys. How's it goin'?

- That one's full too. That's the ninth one.

Here's a thought. We're only gonna be here

five days. Do we really need a room?

Oh, wow, look at these geeks.

Man, what kind of a fraternity

lets these guys in?

Listen, Rog, I don't want these nerds

hanging around my hotel.

Buzz, relax.

These guys are history. Watch.

Pardon me. Are you guys

the Lambdas from Adams College?

- Why?

- I'm Roger Lattimore.

I'm chairman of the United

Fraternity Council. Call me Rog.

Lewis Skolnick. Lambda

Lambda Lambda. Adams.

I heard how much trouble you guys had,

how you couldn't get a room.

- You wouldn't believe it. It's been so trying.

- I bet. That's rough. Yeah.

I wish I could help you

but it's out of my hands.

You see, the manager here is a guy named

Buzz Munsinger. He's right over there.

- Hi, Buzz.

- Can you introduce me, Rog?

Well, I'd like to, but, you see,

Buzz is an Alpha like me.

- You mean Alpha Beta?

- Yeah. He doesn't want you to stay here.

You know how it is. So, I guess

you guys'll just leave, huh?

Here, I'll call you a cab.

- Wait a minute. I think I've found one.

- The Hotel Coral Essex.

"Full recreation facilities,

spacious ocean-view suites."

- Sounds great.

- Confirm it, Poindexter.

- Fantastic.

- It was a pleasure meeting you.

- I guess we'll see you at the conference.

- OK, we'll see you tomorrow.

Well, gentlemen, no point in hanging around

this dump any longer. Heaven awaits.

(Booger) Must be checkout time.

They must have had a heck

of a party here, guys.

(duck squawks)

Hello?

Hola, mijito.

Hablo ingls?

Yes, you speak English.

We have a reservation. We're the Tri-Lambs.

Oh, yes, here it is.

No problem. You follow me.

Your room is in the Ricky Ricardo Wing.

I'm Aldonza, your hostess.

If you need anything...

# You just call me

# Don't be afraid

And over here is the beautiful

Olympic-sized swimming pool.

- You be sure you shower before you use it.

- (growling)

- Didn't I just see...?

- No.

- Alejandro, scame Wanda del pool.

- (growling)

And over here is the wonderful sauna.

(coughing)

You be sure you leave it the way you find it.

And this is Damu, Mamu and Shamu.

Boys.

- Hey, dogs.

- (dogs growl and bark)

Down the hall and to the left

is the Coke... machine.

Over here is the gym.

Come on, Daddy. Wanna go

around the world with Selena?

- Yeah, let me make it good for Daddy. Ooh!

- (Aldonza) Yoo-hoo! Babies! Follow me.

Big man, you.

And over here, this is your room,

the Ricky Ricardo Suite.

Boys!

# (Aldonza) La-da-dee-dada dee-da-da-daa

Oh, don't worry. It's just a little evidence.

# Magic carpet

Now, you just make yourself at home, OK?

(all scream)

I'm just going to cook you your lunch.

# Dee-da-dee-da-da dee-dada-dee

Ugh!

(metal detector crackles)

- Poindexter, that's my pocket protector.

- Sorry, Lewis.

Harold! Harold!

Wow.

That's cool.

We trashed their house last year.

That didn't work. We locked them out

of the hotel, they checked into another.

- What are we gonna do?

- What are you asking us for?

- You're the one with the 2.0 average.

- 2.2.

We can't shake these guys.

Christ, there could be a nuclear war, there'd

be nothing left but cockroaches and nerds.

Let's kill 'em.

Nah.

Wait a second. I got it. It's so simple.

I mean, they're nerds,

but they're men too, sort of.

And what is the thing that

every man in the world is afraid of?

- I don't know, Tiny. What?

- Come on, guys. You know.

At one time or another, every man

in this tub has been petrified

that a chick is gonna see him naked and

see how small his dick really is, right?

- Jesus.

- Come on, guys, admit it.

Yeah, sure. Whatever...

Tiny.

What? What do you...?

It's a reverse nickname.

Like they call red-headed guys Blondie

and right-handed guys Lefty.

Mini-link, are you finished?

- And bald guys Hairy.

- Will you shut up?

We gotta get rid of these guys.

We gotta get rid of 'em in a major way.

Hold it, fellas.

I'm gettin' an idea here. Yeah, by this time

tomorrow, the nerds'll be history.

(Ogre) Nerds!

Ogre, relax.

Tomorrow, you'll be at the podium

and the nerds'll be packin'.

All right, Rog.

(laughs)

Whoo!

(knock on door)

(Aldonza) Pony express!

- What's this?

- I think it's an invitation to a party.

"Dear Lambda Lambda Lambda,

you are invited to the United Fraternity

pre-conference barbecue. "

"Fraternally yours, Roger Lattimore."

Party, party, party!

# (nerds) Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...

(driver) Guys! Guys! The pre-conference

barbecue is right down that path.

(Lewis) OK. Thanks for the ride.

Guys, this is gonna be a blast.

We'll see you when it's over.

- (driver) Yeah.

- (drumming)

- Hey, they even have a band.

- Just our luck.

We get here in the middle of the drum solo.

I don't know about this.

Something doesn't smell right.

That's me. I'm sorry.

Anxiety makes me flatulent.

Take a Valium or something, for Christ's sake.

(woman screams)

- Look!

- Holy sh*t!

(woman whimpers)

(Wormser) This must be one of the last

of the Seminole lndian tribes.

Jesus H Christ!

- Guys, we gotta help her.

- (nerds) Uh...

- Well, if not us, who? If not now, when?

- Somebody else, some other time.

No, Lewis is right, guys.

Are we mice or are we men?

- We are.

- We're Tri-Lambs.

When the going gets tough the tough get

going. That woman there needs our help.

Come on, men. Follow me.

(woman whimpers)

(Booger) Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy,

oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

- (Wormser) What are they gonna do?

- I don't know.

- I think they're gonna sacrifice a virgin.

- I hope not.

A virgin's a terrible thing to waste.

There he goes.

(Indian chants)

Come on, guys.

(Wormser moans)

(Roger) Hit it, boys.

- (woman giggles)

- (growling)

- (Wormser) What was that?

- (Poindexter) I don't know.

(woman) Careful.

Winston, hit the lights.

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