Van Wilder Page #4

Write that down.

Oh, yeah, she came too.

This is the second party

of his she's gone to.

Sounds serious. Threatened?

Threatened? Please.

I'm president of both my fraternity

and the student government.

He's nothing more

than a mild rectal itch.

You know what you do

about a mild rectal itch, Gordo?

- What's that, Richard?

- You scratch it.

Then you scratch it some more.

The more you scratch at it,

the worse it gets...

until finally you have nothing left

but a raw, chafed...

possibly infected anal cavity.

Then it's won.

When all you had to do from the start

was take a medicated pad...

and smother it.

All right, people,

midterm is next week.

Here you have your five categories--

commerce and trade,

so forth and so on.

What you doing?

I'm in the middle of class.

You know, that five-letter word.

I thought we could spend

some time together...

for the story.

I want you to have this.

- Yeah.

- And thank you.

All right, things to remember--

commerce and trade--

Everybody just file out

in an orderly fashion.

What? Come on. Hop in.

I am not getting

in that thing with you.

If you want the story,

you'll get in this thing with me.

What happened?

Is everyone okay?

Wilder.

Are we gonna get in trouble

for being in here?

It's cool. Equipment manager owes me

a favor. I introduced him to his wife.

Life is all about

developing relationships, Gwen.

I hope you can skate.

So the deal is, I score...

you cooperate

and answer all my questions?

- I miss--

- Dinner for two, me and you.

Clothing optional.

Come on!

Holy crap.

My brothers play hockey...

for the Rangers.

My dad just didn't see me

as a sound investment anymore.

But he gave up on me and my mom

long before I ever came here.

Maybe seven years of tuition...

is a good way to remind him

that you're still angry.

So how long have you

and premed Richard been together?

- Since my freshman year.

- I bet he's a tighty whitey guy.

- Excuse me?

- White, elastic band, constrictive.

You can tell a lot about a person

by the kind of drawers they wear.

Like you. Granny panties, I bet.

Does that allude to me

being the plain, boring type?

I just wanted a visual.

I think it takes a lot more than

the kind of underwear one wears...

to define them as a person.

Like what?

Like their actions.

For instance, most people...

want to get out of school

so they can make money.

You're trying to make money

to stay in school.

- Why?

- I like it here.

What about your future?

- You take life way too seriously.

- Life is serious.

I used to party with this guy

who once told me...

"Don't take life too seriously.

You'll never get out alive."

He used to write

for the school paper.

He kept babbling about the differences

between light and dark beer.

Very strange, but good advice.

You think about the future too much,

you kinda forget about the present...

obviously.

And I am really enjoying

the present right now...

sharing a penalty box and a tri-latte

with Gwen Pearson...

who believes censorship reflects

society's lack of confidence in itself.

You actually read that article?

Okay, look, I read the damn article,

but don't tell anyone...

because if word gets out that I read,

my reputation--

shot to hell.

She's smart, she's beautiful...

she can skate.

She's not for you, dude.

She's too high-strung.

Besides, babes that fine--

they're way into themselves

and sh*t.

After this weekend,

we should have sufficient funds...

to cover your next two payments.

I mean, this girl is dynamite.

Too bad she's dating

Strapper John, MD.

- Where did you find that?

- In your room a few days ago.

I'm trying to spark this bong,

but this damn thing won't light.

That's no bong!

It's for my schlong!

Hold on.

You mean I put my mouth

on your cock pump?

Oh, damn!

I have a date with Naomi

tomorrow night...

and I just wanted

to bring my A game.

Taj, come on!

That's what I'm here for, right?

Now, follow my foolproof plan...

and I'm gonna help you put

the bang in Banglapur.

All you need are the three

fundamentals-- scented candles...

massage oil...

and Barry White.

Write that down.

- Hey, no cock pump.

- No cock pump.

Barry White.

- I'm gonna go wash my hands now.

- Oh, Gwen!

Your labia feels so good

around my swollen phallus.

I'm fairly confident

I'm going to ejaculate.

I'm releasing my seminal fluids

inside of you now!

Are you okay?

Yeah. Why?

Didn't you--

It's kinda hard in 15 seconds.

Damn it!

You know the kind of pressure

I'm under with my exams.

- I'm sorry.

- Look, I'm sorry.

This semester's marks could determine

the next ten years of our lives.

Do you realize that?

You know...

you shouldn't take life

too seriously.

You'll never get out alive.

What the hell

is that supposed to mean?

I'm late for my study group.

She was getting awfully chummy

with the rectal itch.

Son of a b*tch.

Disappear!

Yes, superior leader, sir.

It's time to excise

that cancerous lump.

Forget him. Let's crap in the chapter

room and make the pledges clean it up.

- It'll be fun.

- I wish I could, Gordo.

I got dinner

at Gwen's parents' house.

Sounds special.

Is Wilder gonna be there?

Hey, guys. Hey, Richard.

Is there anything

I can do for you today?

Dear Van--

Here you go, Taj.

Get your rave on, man.

- Thanks.

- You got it.

"See you tonight. Gwen."

The invite to the parents' house.

This is big.

This is very, very big.

- Doesn't she have a boyfriend?

- Details.

I'm off.

Taj, you're in charge.

I do not think I'm capable

of handling such a responsibility.

Listen to me. Do you know why

I chose you as my assistant?

So you could teach me

how to muff dive?

Well, yeah, but also...

because you have the potential

to be great.

- May I help you?

- Yeah, I'm Van--

You made it.

Evelyn, this is one of your daughter's

acquaintances from school.

There's room for one more?

By all means.

Come in, please.

Definitely be out of the question

unless they all agreed with us...

and we talked it over.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Van, this is Dr. Henke,

proctologist.

Oh, well, holy crap.

I hope you're not on call tonight.

Dr. Beaverman, OB-GYN.

Van Wilder,

G-L-A-D to meet you.

And of course, Gwen's father.

I'm gonna go out on a limb here.

Dr. Pearson?

- Indeed.

- Indeed. Super.

All right.

So... am I here for a physical?

'Cause I'm gonna need a few cocktails

before I start coughing for you fellas.

- What are you doing here?

- I don't know.

No, thank you.

Mr. Wilder here

is quite the collegian.

He's in his, what, sixth year?

Lucky number seven, actually.

- What are you studying, son?

- I dabble in a bit of everything.

I've tried to experience

all that Coolidge has to offer.

Surely you have a career in mind.

Not really.

I'm still looking for that

dare-to-be-great situation.

Maybe you should start looking for

that dare-to-be-employed situation.

The student body

finds Van so intriguing...

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