The Faculty

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Look alive!

Damn it!

Goddamn it!

You call that blocking,

you p*ssy-pukes?

You gotta pick up

the linebacker!

Goddamn it! Get off the f***ing field,

you limp-ass blowdicks!

Consider yourselves dead

Friday night! Dead!

You gonna rejoin

the living tomorrow, Stan?

You've got to feel the pressure

closing in on you!

Then you get rid of the rock!

Now get focused

or get the f*** off my team!

- Sh*t!

- Let it go.

This better be important or somebody's

gonna be doing laps until sunrise.

Yeah? What?

Please let me finish this

so we can go home. It's late.

Mrs Brummel, with all sadness,

no new computers.

But

Get the service guy down here

and get the old ones juiced.

Mr Tate,

you're dreaming.

Absolutely no field trips

to New York City.

I don't think

that you understand.

You're not getting out

of Ohio. Rethink it.

And, finally,

Mrs Olson.

There's just no money

for a musical this year.

But I bet the football team gets their

new jerseys and their new equipment.

Have you seen the football stadium

on a Friday night, Mr Tate?

The entire town is there. This is

a football town, let me remind you,

and, yes, the team will get

new jerseys and new knee pads...

and new jock straps and anything else

they want in the name of education...

because that is what

the school board wants.

Because that is what

the parents in this town want.

I'm sorry.

My frustrated hands are tied.

I don't see why we can't have

a few new computers...

so the children will learn

a little set up.

Miss Drake, the Drama Club had their

heart set on Guys and Dolls this year.

Well... maybe if they use

last year's set from Our Town.

Sh*t, I forgot my keys.

I have to go back.

See you in the morning,

Mrs Olson.

Coach Willis.

What can I do for you?

You look...

very, very pretty tonight,

- Miss Drake.

- Have you been drinking, Coach?

I'm sorry to bother you,

but...

I can't seem to find a pencil.

You don't need a pencil, Coach.

You need a good night's sleep.

- I need a pencil.

- Sleep it off, Coach.

Do you have a pencil?

Jesus Christ, yes, I have a pencil.

I have plenty of pencils.

Look, why don't you and your pencil

go home. It's late.

You look...

very, very pretty tonight.

Harassment has a really fine line,

Coach. Haven't you read your handbook?

I've always wanted to do that.

Would Miss Drake please report...

to the principal's office?

- I forgot my grade book.

- Unlock the door! Coach Willis attacked me!

- Unlock the door, goddamn it!

- I don't have my keys.

- Let me get help.

- No, don't leave me!

- Where are your keys?

- Wait

In the office.

I'm gonna get my keys now,

Mrs Olson.

- Please, let me get help.

- No, just talk to me, okay?

Miss Drake...

please be careful.

He's insane.

Miss Drake, he's coming!

Hurry! Hurry!

Hurry, Miss Drake!

Hurry!

Hurry!

- Sh*t!

- No!

Hurry!

Help me!

Prick.

I always wanted to do that.

You f***ing b*tch!

What the hell

were you doing?

Whatever.

All right?

Sorry. My fault.

Crash and burn, Casey.

Get out of the f***ing car,

you stupid b*tch!

Goddamn you!

- You okay?

- Walk much?

You ran into me, beast.

Okay, now listen up.

Since we're all wearing the same uniforms,

let's keep

the hair the same.

No hair spray, no teasing,

just elegant.

- Simple. Great.

- Hey.

Stan, watch it. Those are Estee Lauder lips.

Takes 72 minutes to apply.

Sorry.

- Hey, can we talk?

- I can't right now.

I need a new headline

for the school paper. It's important.

- So is this.

- I'm sure you think so, honey.

In fact... it could be just the story

you're looking for.

Do the words "editor-in-chief"

mean anything to you?

Leave the news

to me, okay?

Later.

That chick weakens legs, meat.

- One, two, three

- No, not the pole!

Yeah, do it again!

Yeah!

Excuse me.

Could you please tell me where

the office is? It's my first day here.

Thank you.

I'm Marybeth Louise Hutchinson.

I really love what you've done with your nose ring.

It brings out the colour in your eyes.

You're such a f***ing p*ssy.

Hey, f*** you! F*** you!

F*** you, man!

F*** you!

Dude, that's not me.

Doesn't even look like me.

It's fifty bucks,

right?

- Does that look like me?

- It's the new you.

I don't know, man. How do we know

these things are even gonna work?

Trust me, man.

I'm brilliant.

Then why are you repeating

your senior year?

All right, look, man.

I'll throw in

a couple hits of this.

Scat. My own recipe.

Guaranteed to jack you up.

Up the nose, right?

Whatever works, man.

F***.

Excuse me, Mr Tate.

Try to remember, Harry,

the projector's got teeth.

Sharp ones.

We should be getting hazard pay

for this sort of faulty equipment.

- Yeah, right.

- Hey, good morning, Miss Harper.

I:

I called you this weekend.

I got your machine.

How's your cold?

- I can't get rid of it.

- Hello. How are you today?

A bit tired, but no complaints.

I got it.

Can we say,

"retirement"?

Maybe you should just go home.

No, thank you.

I'm saving my sick days

for when I feel better.

Maybe I should just put

a pen in my eye.

When will that b*tch turn

the air conditioning back on?

Hey, speaking of which,

has anybody seen Principal Drake?

Maybe she had

a sunstroke and died.

What's up with the coach?

He's thirsty.

Probably a pregame ritual.

Just looking at him

makes me want to take a piss.

Good morning, Mrs Olson.

You look

very, very pretty today.

So...

what was Crusoe's...

greatest fear?

Anyone?

Yes, Zeke.

Crusoe's afraid that he'd be

stuck on that island forever...

with nothing but calluses.

No, that's not correct.

Isolation

was his greatest fear.

Yes, but...

his external existence

in no way compared...

to the internal agony

of the loneliness he felt.

That's very good.

Like I said, calluses.

So Cathy tells me one thing,

and then Liz says another...

and then, of course,

Jenny's got her own story,

so which one

do you want me to print?

Print them all.

He's a jerk.

- Hey, we need to talk.

- No, Stan, baby, I'm in a crunch.

Could we back-burner it?

- I'm quitting football.

- You're not playing tomorrow?

I'm not playing this year.

Would you listen to me?

I'm quitting the team.

I'm not playing ball... anymore.

What brought this on?

Well, I've been weighing

the importance of being a jock...

- with my impending future, and I decided

- You just decided?

Stan, what about college? The football

scholarship is your only shot.

If I quit now, I can work

harder at studying,

maybe raise

my grades a little.

I'd rather go to college...

based on my intellect.

You're not good

at studying.

Stan, you're good at football.

Stick to what you're good at.

Yeah, I've always been good at football

and basketball and every other sport I try.

I think maybe it's time I try something

I'm not so good at, something different.

And what am I supposed to do while you're

on a yellow-brick quest for a brain?

- What?

- The accepted social order...

is head cheerleaders date star

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