The Sure Thing

Consider outer space.

From the time of the first NASA mission,

it became evident...

that being in space has a profound effect

on the human psyche.

During the first Gemini mission,

some thought was actually given...

to the notion of sending up

a man and a woman together.

Really?

A cosmic Adam and Eve, if you will...

bound together

in a sophisticated nerve center...

at the head of the largest,

most powerful known rocket...

its giant thrusters

blasting into the dark void...

as they hurtled towards

their final destination:

the gushing wellspring of life itself.

How would you like

a sexual encounter so intense...

it could conceivably change

your political views?

- Would you like to dance?

- Yes, please.

I'll take that as a no.

- Consider outer space.

- What?

Private Gibson! ncoming!

What is this? "Lonely man sitting on a hill"?

It's over, Lance.

It's gone, I've lost it.

High school.

I started off so hot.

Sophomore year, two times.

Junior year was excellent. Four times.

And not all with the same girl.

Senior year looked like the best.

The first day of classes, then nothing.

What do you mean,

nothing your senior year?

What about that time with Barbara DeVillebis

in the high-jump pit?

That was you.

I just can't motivate myself

the way I used to.

Maybe I'm past my prime.

It's not you.

It's these high school girls, here.

They're simple.

They're never gonna stimulate

a complex guy like you.

- Maybe you're right.

- Of course I'm right.

Anyways...

after tonight, you'll never have to deal with

these simple high school girls again.

- But won't these same girls be in college?

- Yeah, but it'll be different.

- Why?

- Because they'll be college girls.

I'm gonna miss you.

It's your own fault. You could be

coming out to California with me.

Yeah, right.

Get a totally bitchin' education

out there, dude.

California.

You could be coming

to New England with me.

What are you, crazy? The lvy League stinks.

They've only got those ugly,

intellectual girls...

with Band-Aids on their knees

from playing the cello. No, thank you.

I'm really gonna miss you.

We're college men now.

Dear Lance, the campus here is beautiful.

I've never seen so much corduroy

in one place.

Classes are classes.

One of them even looks like

it might be interesting.

You never know.

You're wrong about the women here.

I haven't seen one Band-Aid.

In fact, there's plenty of action.

My roommate and I have an understanding.

Hope things are going as good for you.

Your pal, Gib.

P.S. All of the above is bullshit.

I'm floundering in a sea of confusion

and total despair.

But, knock on wood, I still have my health.

This week's assignment

is to rewrite last week's assignment.

Remember, "As the dog returneth

to his own vomit...

"so does the fool to his folly."

Sorry I'm late,

but there was this big problem...

and I'm late because of it.

Katherine, when I told you

that you should develop your own style...

I didn't mean that you should dot the i's

with little flowers.

And this lavender ink...

Would you lose that?

It strains the eye.

You sure take a lot of notes.

Miss Duran, this is very interesting.

Ordinarily, the conclusion comes

in the end of the paper, but...

- I like that.

- Thank you.

Go on.

Gibson.

- Mr. Gibson?

- Yes, what?

I know what an important part

voyeurism plays in your daily life...

but would you mind

if I take up a moment of your time?

- Sure.

- Thank you.

See, I want to tell you...

that I really enjoyed your paper.

- You did?

- Yeah.

I don't remember the last time...

that I have seen this much detail

expressed on:

"How to eat pizza

without burning the roof of your mouth."

Unfortunately, whatever whimsical qualities

that your paper evokes...

are obscured in a morass

of marginal grammar...

creative spelling...

and, as I believe, sausage stain.

Pepperoni.

Clean it up.

Ms. Bradbury.

You, on the other hand...

express your ideas very clearly.

Thank you.

Except that your paper is...

Well, it's dry.

There's not enough of you coming through.

Loosen up, Alison. Have some fun.

Sleep when you feel like it,

not when you think you should.

Eat food that is bad for you,

at least once in a while.

Have conversations with people

whose clothes are not color coordinated.

Make love in a hammock!

Life is the ultimate experience.

You have to experience it...

in order to write about it.

- Yes, Alison.

- What did you say after "hammock"?

- I want you.

- All right.

You're a dead man, dead meat.

You'll hear footsteps.

Set!

One, one thousand,

two, one thousand, three, one thousand.

Gibson, all-pro safety out of Grambling,

makes another sparkling defensive jam.

- I thought Grambling was all black.

- So what?

What are you doing tonight?

I'll tell you, I am not rewriting

my English paper. I have a social life.

That's right, I forgot.

You've got to go to a mixer.

Stand in the corner for three hours,

and not ask anyone to dance.

It's the girls at this school.

All they want is to stay indoors, smoke

cigarettes and relate. I don't like them.

Why do you have to like them?

You're dead meat.

What does Taub mean, I have to live life?

In high school, I was delegate

to the mock UN in New York City.

Twice.

When I was nine,

I broke my brother's nose, boxing.

On a tour of Graceland,

I passed out in Elvis' bedroom.

I think I've done my share of living,

haven't l?

- What do you think of that guy Gib?

- I don't.

I think he's got a cute ass.

- Him?

- Yeah.

Gibson, with the interception!

And he's got some running room!

He's to the 30, to the 40...

and he's run out of bounds at midfield

by Jimbo Maccavechi!

That's Gibson's 9th interception

of this very young season.

He's having an outstanding year.

"Life's the ultimate experience."

Forget it. She likes the intellectual type.

I'm intellectual, and stuff.

You're flunking English.

That's your mother tongue, and stuff.

The only way she'd go out with you

is out of pity.

- Mastin, you're a genius.

- Stop and go, on 1.

Break!

- Both y'all are dead.

- Ready down. Set.

- Hut one. Hut two. Hut three.

- Watch it, now.

One, one thousand,

two, one thousand, three, one thousand.

- Nice D.

- Go!

Nice.

- Where are you going?

- Come on!

The ball!

I'm flunking English. I was wondering

if maybe you could help me out.

Nice swimsuit.

If I flunk English, I'm out of here.

Kiss college goodbye.

I don't know what I'll do.

I'll probably go home.

Gee, Dad will be pissed off.

Mom will be heartbroken.

If I play my cards right,

I get maybe a six-month's grace period...

and then I got to get a job,

and you know what that means.

That's right. They start me off

at the drive-up window...

and I work my way up

from shakes to burgers...

and then, one day, my lucky break comes.

The French fry guy dies,

and they offer me the job.

But the day I have to start, some men

come in a black Lincoln Continental...

and tell me I can make a quick $300

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