The Prince & Me II: The Royal Wedding Page #2

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opportunity to find myself.

Oh, Edvard, please.

This is just another

in a series of escapades.

Which, by the way, we finance.

Inevitably ending up with you

in some tabloid, embarrassing us

and forcing you to come back

to the palace to hide yourself

until you convince us you have to go

and find yourself yet again.

If I'm the embarrassment

you believe me to be,

then maybe you should cut me off.

- Well, what are you saying?

- I'm saying I want to go and I'm going.

And I neither require your money

nor your permission.

- Edvard!

- I will do this on my own, Mother!

Let him go.

We've tried everything else,

and it doesn't work, so...

Frankly, it's encouraging

he even wants to try.

Soren. You will go with him.

Me, Your Majesty?

On my own?

Surely there's a caretaker

better suited than...

I will arrange for our departure.

- Hey!

- Slow down.

Just look at them all, Soren.

Thousands upon thousands of young,

crazy college girls getting drunk

- and taking their tops off.

- Yes, sir, what a treat for us

that it's happening here

in America's dairy land.

Breeding ground of the coronary

bypass patients of the world.

Look at her.

Your parents are expecting you

to attend your classes,

- Your Royal Highness.

- Yes, I know.

Listen, Soren.

From this point forward,

I do not want you to address me

as the prince

or Your Royal Highness.

You will address me as... Eddie.

Yes, Eddie.

The last thing I need right now

is to have the press all over me.

- I think it's gonna be fun.

- I'm having a wonderful time already.

- Are you unhappy, Soren?

- What gave me away, sir?

I don't know. Your expression

never changes.

- Do you even know how to smile?

- Yes.

Oh, Soren, this is us.

Good heavens.

I thought you had to be

convicted of a crime

before you lived

somewhere like this.

It's not that bad.

Plus, we haven't seen

the rest of it yet.

Apparently, this is the rest of it.

Well, I like it. And I'll even let you

have first choice of the beds.

Oh, heavens.

Which stained mattress

shall I choose?

You the new guys?

I'm Scotty.

All right, all my food's labeled,

so I'll know if you ate anything.

I'm allergic to dairy, shellfish,

red meat, melon, nuts and kiwi.

So don't bring any

of that stuff around here.

The Xbox is off-limits.

If you screw up any of my high scores,

I'll blind you with my laser pointer.

Now, this... This is the real university

life I was talking about.

You see, here, we're just two

typical college students.

Absolutely, sir. I, for one, can't wait

to raucously cheer on the fellows

of the tackle football team

as they challenge the Gophers,

our hated rivals, who apparently hail

from a place called Minnesota.

Minnesota sucks!

Wisconsin rules!

No, no.

Waitress, we'd like to see

some menus, please.

I'm not a waitress, there are no

menus, and the kitchen's closed.

Well, then what can you offer us?

I can offer you beer and pretzel rods,

my fine fellow, at ye old pub yonder.

- Shall I go to the bar, sir?

- Yes. Yes, two of these. Two beers.

Very good.

Would you like another, sir?

- Yes, I'll get these.

- Thank you very much, sir.

- Hello again.

- What can I get for you?

I was hoping you could

recommend something better

than what we've been drinking.

Well, for the discerning

out-of-towner like yourself,

I recommend Leinenkugel's. You can

really taste the extra 10 cents.

Yes, by all means. Two, please.

You know, if we were in Germany

right now, we'd be underground.

- What?

- Rathskeller, it means basement.

OK.

Yes, perhaps I should've known

better than to flirt in German.

Perhaps.

It's not a very attractive language, is it?

No.

- I'm Eddie.

- Paige.

- So will you take your top off for me?

- What?

Take your top off for me

like Wild College Girls.

Just a quick look. No one's watching.

Just take it off for me.

- You, time to go.

- Just calm down.

- No, you calm down.

- Get off me.

- You get out.

- Get your hands off me.

Out. Go on!

Science is a never-ending quest.

For anyone planning a future

in science, an open mind is a must.

Grading is as follows:

Forty percent, procedure.

Fifty percent, lab work.

And ten...

May I help you?

Yes. I believe I'm signed up

for this class.

Fine, Mr. Williams. Next time be here

by 8:
20, or you'll be locked out.

And what about you?

I'm talking to you, sir.

- I'm auditing.

- Not this class, too small.

Take a seat, Mr. Williams.

As I was saying,

forty percent, procedure.

- Fifty percent, lab work.

- You can wait outside.

- You'll be all right, sir?

- And ten percent...

- Yes, just wait outside.

- You know, if this is a "lovers' thing",

could you please take it

in the hall?

Soren, just go. Go.

My sincerest apologies.

Oh, please proceed.

And ten percent, attendance.

You will find a list in front of you

of your supplies

and the experiment

you will be conducting.

Now, I want you to turn to the person

next to you and introduce yourself.

Congratulations, folks, you've just said

hello to your permanent lab partner.

Hey. Hey.

You forgot your supply list.

Oh, right, thank you.

- Listen, what's your name again?

- Eddie.

Eddie. Right.

This class is really important to me

because I need this teacher

to get me into med school.

And if I'm stuck with you

as my partner,

I can't afford to have you

screw things up for me, OK?

It's very important to me, as well.

I love organic chemistry.

I've recently discovered

that large amounts

of alcohol mixed with a carbon-based

life form causes the life form

to blurt out stupid things.

So apologies to the other night.

I was just having some fun.

Of course you were. And I love being

made to feel like a brainless slut

by some sloppy lush. Thanks.

I have learned me to repent the sin

Of disobedient opposition

To you and your behest, I am enjoined

And beg your pardon

Is he drunk now?

It's a play. Romeo and Juliet?

Shakespeare?

This is gonna be a fun semester.

Don't forget your half

of the supplies next time.

You would think that

after spraying somebody

with high-powered soda,

he'd get the message to stay away.

Well, I think he's pretty hot.

Hot? Oh, my God, Beth,

he is so affected.

He was quoting Shakespeare, like

some Shakespearean-duke-lord guy.

I hate phonies like that.

So are you saying you wouldn't

take him up to the stacks?

OK. A, going at it in the dusty stacks

of the library is fairly disgusting.

And B, you literally say that

about every hot guy.

Oh, so you admit he's hot.

OK, I'm done having

this conversation.

I need to concentrate

on my applications.

And what's with his weird friend

who's always hanging around?

One partner is monitoring

temperature and flow,

while the other pours the hydrochloric

acid into the separatory funnel.

Now...

carefully turn the stopcock

to allow some of the solution

to flow into the round-bottom flask.

Start over again.

Where is he?

- You're still in bed?

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