Romy and Michele's High School Reunion Page #7

Okay.

And you know what,|it doesn't even matter...

that we told, like, what,|four people some dumb lie.

Who cares?

Hi, everybody.

Settle down. Hi.

I'm Christie|Masters-Christianson.

I have been asked|to formally welcome you all...

to Sagebrush High's|ten-year reunion.

We have come a long way|in the past ten years.

Our own Lisa Luder is helping|set the style for the country...

as a fashion editor|for "Vogue" magazine.

And Travis McKinney|is in his fifth year...

as a member of the|Dallas Cowboys football team.

And...

Romy and Michele claimed...

they invented Post-Its.

All I ever wanted was|for people to think...

that we were better|than we were in high school.

And now we're just a stupid joke,|just like we always were.

No, Romy.

Can I tell you the truth?

I never knew that we weren't|that great in high school.

I mean, we always had|so much fun together.

I thought high school|was a blast.

And until you told me that|our lives weren't good enough...

I thought everything|since high school was a blast.

I think we should go back|out there as ourselves...

and just have fun|like we always do.

The hell with|everyone else.

I don't think I can.

Well, do you think you can|stop being such a baby?

God, I feel like|I've been, like...

chasing you all over|this reunion.

We have come|all this way.

Now we are going to enjoy ourselves|whether you like it or not.

God, Michele, I've never seen this side|of your personality before.

You're so bossy|and domineering.

- I like it.|- Me too.

She's got it

Yeah, baby|she's got it

- I don't believe it.|- What?

They're ba-ack.

Well, I'm your Venus

- Nice outfits.|- I'm your fire

Post-Its must be|really lucrative.

- Are you sure you want to do this?|- Oh, yeah, Michele, I am so sure.

What the hell is|your problem, Christie?

Why are you always|such a nasty b*tch?

Do you get some kind of sick pleasure|from torturing other people?

I mean, yeah, okay, so Michele and I|did make up some lame story.

We only did it because we wanted you|to treat us like human beings.

But you know what|I finally realized?

I don't care if you like us|'cause we don't like you.

You're a bad person|with an ugly heart...

and we don't give a flying f***|what you think.

- Come on, Michele.|- Okay.

And, yeah.

It's unbelievable.|They're as deluded about their lives...

as they are about|those hideous clothes.

Actually, Christie,|they've got nice lines...

a fun,|frisky use of colour.

All in all, I'd have to say|they're really not bad.

Well, we still think|they're ridiculous.

Don't we, girls?

Why don't you just let them|think for themselves for once?

You're just jealous...

because unlike a certain ball-busting,|dried-up career woman I might mention...

we're all happily married.

That's right, Christie.

Keep telling|yourself that.

- I do love those outfits.|- Yeah, sure do.

- Oh, great.|- Thanks.

Michele made them.

Well, I just sewed them.|We both designed them.

- Fifty-fifty.|- Wow. - Yeah.

That's so cool.

Well, it's been really|terrific seeing all of you.

- Come on, Michele.|- Oh, okay, bye.

Hi.

I am sorry that I blew|your big lie for you.

Hey, that's okay.|It was better this way anyway.

It's ironic, isn't it? I really thought|you guys had it made in high school.

- Us?|- Yes, you.

With your long hair|and your long legs...

walkin' on your legs,|flippin' your hair.

I can't compete with that.|You made Sandy crazy.

And the whole time|you were makin' my life hell...

the "A" group was making|your life hell; I didn't know.

You know what? I bet in high school|everybody made somebody's life hell.

Mm-mmm, not me. Never had the|opportunity to make anyone's life hell.

You know what? I bet that's not true.|You were really unpleasant.

- You think?|- Oh, yeah. God.

Heather?|Oh, I'm off duty.

Um, since you never|got around to it in high school...

I was wondering|if you could sign my yearbook.

And, uh, please don't|tell me to f*** off...

because it really hurts|my feelings.

- I hurt your feelings?|- Yeah, all the time.

Tremendous!|That's tremendous!

Go get your stupid yearbook.|I would be happy to sign it.

Okay, great.|I'll-I'll be right back, okay?

Michele, I think maybe|we should leave.

There is no way this reunion|is gonna get any better.

Hey, everybody, Sandy Frink|just landed in a helicopter!

Sandy Frink|has a helicopter?

Yeah. Apparently he's worth,|like, millions.

He invented some kind of|special rubber or something.

Like for condoms?

Whoa-ohh-ohh

The hot summer night

Fell like a net

I've gotta find|my baby yet

You think I'm cute

A little bit shy

Mama, I ain't|that kind of guy

That's Sandy Frink?|What the hell was I thinking?

Whoa-ohh-ohh

Sandy, hi.

- Doctor, Doctor, give me the news|- You look so rich.

- I got a bad case of lovin' you|- I mean, great.

No pill's gonna|cure my ill

I got a bad case|of lovin' you

Michele.

- After all these years, you still take my breath away.|- Thanks.

So you must be, like,|the most successful person...

in our entire|graduating class.

Well, I guess that depends|on how you define "success. "

If, to you, success means|having a house in Aspen...

one in Acapulco, a penthouse in|New York, a mansion in Malibu...

a 60-foot yacht,|an eight-seat Windstar...

a Bell Jet Ranger, a Bentley,|a personal trainer, a full-time chef...

a live-in masseuse|and a staff of 24...

then, yeah...

I guess I am successful.

But no matter|how much I accumulate...

there's still one thing|I just don't have.

Your own country?

I don't have you,|Michele.

Will you dance with me?

Only if Romy|can dance with us.

Sure.

Lying in my bed

I hear the clock tick|and think of you

Caught up in circles

Confusion is nothing new

Flashback|Warm nights

Almost left behind

Suitcase of memories

Time after|Sometimes you picture me

I'm walkin'|too far ahead

You're callin' to me

I can't hear|what you've said

Then you say "Go slow"

I fall behind

The second hand unwinds

If you're lost, you can look|and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you|I'll be waiting

Time after time

If you're lost, you can look|and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall|I will catch you

- I'll be waiting|- I will be waiting

Time after time

Time after time

Time after time

Time after time

Time after time

See, I told you|it would pay off...

to go to those clubs|every night.

Come on.

Oh, Jesus,|Mary and Joseph.

What do you want?

You were right. I was|a brain-dead, redneck a**hole.

Although I never screwed|a sheep or my sister.

Why not?|Couldn't catch 'em?

I guess I deserve that.|I was a jerk.

But I was so miserable|in high school...

I don't think I spoke more than|two words the entire time.

I just couldn't|breathe there, you know?

Plus, I had this|really bad stutter.

Listen, you, uh,|wanna go somewhere quiet?

Somewhere|where we can talk?

- You-You wanna talk to me?|- Yeah.

Okay, cowboy, I don't know|what your trip is...

- but if this is some kind|of a sick game- - What? No.

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