Heathers (1989) - full transcript
A regular girl, Veronica, tries to survive the social jungle of high school by sticking with the three most popular girls at school who are all called Heather. As she meets a sociopath named JD, her life spirals into a continuous cycle of hate, unintentional murder and indifference, as she exacts revenge on her enemies, also known as her best friends.
Damn.
It's your turn, Heather.
No, Heather. It's Heather's turn.
Heather.
Sorry, Heather.
Ow.
Dear Diary.
'Heather told me
she teaches people real life.
'She said, "Real
life sucks losers dry."
"'If you wanna fuck with the eagles,
you have to learn to fly."
'I said, "So, you teach people
how to spread their wings and fly?"
'She said, "Yes."
'I said, "You're beautiful."'
God, come on, Veronica.
What is your damage, Heather?
Don't blame me, blame Heather.
She told me to haul your ass
into the caff pronto.
Back me up, Heather.
She really wants to
talk to you, Veronica.
OK, I'm going. Jesus Christ.
Hello, Heather.
Veronica. Finally.
I got a note of Kurt Kelly's.
I need you to forge a hot and horny,
but realistically low-key note
in Kurt's handwriting.
We'll slip it onto
Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray.
Shit, Heather. I don't have
anything against Martha Dunnstock.
You don't have
anything for her either.
Come on. It'll be very.
The note will give her shower nozzle
masturbation material for weeks.
I'll think about it.
Don't think.
Veronica needs something to write on.
Bend over.
"Dear Martha, you're so sweet..."
I'm telling you, man,
it would so be righteous
to be in a Veronica Sawyer-
Heather Chandler sandwich.
Oh, hell, yes.
I wanna get a Heather
and put her on my johnson
and just spin her around
like a goddamn pinwheel!
Punch it in.
Westerburg feeds the world.
Come on, people.
Give that leftover lunch money
to people who don't have lunches.
God, aren't they fed, yet?
Do they even have
Thanksgiving in Africa?
Oh, sure. Pilgrims,
Indians, Tater Tots.
It's a real party continent.
Sawyer, guess what today is.
Ouch. Lunchtime poll?
- So, what's the question?
- Yeah, what's the question?
Goddamn, you were with me
in study hall when I thought of it.
I forgot.
Such a pillowcase.
This wouldn't be that bizarro thing
you were babbling about over
the phone last night, would it?
Of course it is.
I told Dennis if he
gives me another
political topic, I'd
spew burrito chunks.
Oh, Veronica, I'm sorry.
Betty Finn. Gosh.
Sorry I couldn't make it
to your birthday party last month.
It's OK. Your mom said
you had a big date.
I think I'd probably miss
my own birthday for a date.
- Don't say that.
- You know what?
I was looking
around the other day,
and I dug up, uh,
these old photographs.
Oh. They're great.
- Come on, Veronica.
- I was talking to somebody!
Great. Here comes Heather.
Oh, shit.
Hi, Courtney. Love your cardigan.
Thanks. I just got it
last night at The Limited.
Like, totally blew my allowance.
Check this out.
You win $5 million
from the Publisher Sweepstakes,
and the same day
that Big Ed guy gives you the check,
aliens land on the earth and say
they'll blow up the
world in two days.
What do you do?
That's easy.
I'd just slide that
wad over to my father,
because he is, like,
one of the top brokers in the state.
If I got that money,
I'd give it all to the homeless.
Every cent.
You're beautiful.
If you're gonna openly be a bitch...
Heather, why can't we talk
to different kinds of people?
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
Do I look like Mother Teresa?
If I did, I probably wouldn't mind
talking to the geek squad.
Huh. Did you see that?
Heather number one
just looked right at me.
Does it not bother
you that everybody
in this school thinks
you're a piranha?
Like I give a shit.
They all want me
as a friend or a fuck.
I'm worshipped at Westerburg,
and I'm only a junior.
I can't believe this.
We're going to a party
at Remington University tonight,
and we're brushing up
on our conversational skills
with the scum of the school.
- Hey.
- Hi.
So this is
what's called a lunchtime poll.
You win $5 million
in the Publisher Sweepstakes.
And the same day that what's-his-face
gives you the cheque...
Aliens land on earth...
And say they're gonna
blow up the world in two days.
What are you gonna do with the money?
I'd go to Egypt. With a girl.
I'd use the money
for an end-of-the-world get-together.
I'd pay Madonna a million bucks
to sit on my face,
and have a ride like
the Kentucky Derby.
That's gotta be the most
spooky-assed question I ever heard.
All right, this is important.
After taxes, I'll only be getting...
She should pay me, though.
You go to the zoo and get a lion,
and then, put a remote control bomb
up its butt.
Then there's social
security, legal fees.
You push the button on the bomb,
and you and the lion die like one.
What?
Oh, my God. Here we go.
Oh.
Oh, my God.
Hi, Veronica. Five
keeps an infant alive.
You wanted to be a member of
the most powerful clique in school.
If I wasn't already the head of it,
I'd want the same thing.
Come on, Veronica.
You used to have a sense of humour.
Veronica, could you
come back here a minute?
A true friend's work is never done.
Gross.
Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so '87.
You know, maybe
you should see a doctor.
Yeah, maybe.
Come on, Heather, let's take
another look at today's lunch.
God, Veronica, drool much?
His name's Jason Dean.
He's in my "American History".
Hello, Jason Dean.
Greetings and salutations.
Are you a Heather?
No. I'm a Veronica.
Sawyer.
This may seem
like a really stupid question.
There are no stupid questions.
You inherit $5 million.
The same day aliens
land on the earth and
say they're gonna
blow it up in two days.
What do you do?
Well, that's the stupidest question
I've ever heard.
Who's that guy in the coat
think he is anyways?
Bo Diddley?
Veronica's into his act, no doubt.
I don't know. Probably row out
to the middle of a lake somewhere.
Bring along a bottle of tequila,
my sax and some Bach.
How very.
Come on, Veronica.
- Later.
- Definitely.
- Let's kick his ass.
- Shit, Ram. We're seniors, man.
We're too old
for kind of that kind of crap.
Let's give him a good scare though.
You gonna eat this?
What did your
boyfriend say when you
told him you were
moving to Sherwood, Ohio?
Answer him, dick.
Hey, Ram, doesn't this cafeteria
have a "no fags allowed" rule?
They seem to have an open-door policy
for assholes though, don't they?
What did you say, dickhead?
I'll repeat myself.
God, they won't expel him.
They'll just suspend him
for a week or something.
He used a real gun.
They should throw his ass in jail.
No way. He used blanks.
All JD really did
was ruin two pairs of pants.
Maybe not even that.
Can you bleach out urine stains?
You seem pretty amused.
I thought you had given up
on high school guys.
Never say never.
What are you gonna do, Heather?
Take the two shots or send me out?
Did you have a brain tumour
for breakfast?
First you ask if you can be red,
knowing that I'm always red.
Shit.
It's your turn, Heather.
Easy shot, Heather.
No way, no day.
Give it up, girl.
- Holy shit.
- God, that was incredible!
Whoo!
So tonight's the night.
Are you two excited?
I'm giving Veronica her shot.
Her first Remington party.
You blow it tonight, girl, and it's
keggers with kids all next year.
- Why?
- Why not?
Heather, your mother's here.
Come on, whoever wants a ride.
- Bye. Thank you.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye.
- Bye, girls.
Hey, take a break,
Veronica. Sit down.
So, what was the first week of,
uh, spring vacation withdrawal like?
I don't know. It was OK, I guess.
Hey, kid, isn't the prom coming up?
I guess.
Any contestants
worth mentioning?
Maybe. There's
kind of a dark horse in the running.
Goddamn, will somebody tell me
why I read these spy novels?
Because you're an idiot.
Oh, yeah, that's it.
You two.
Great pâté, but
I gotta motor if I
wanna be ready
for that party tonight.
- Corn nuts!
- BQ or plain?
BQ!
You gonna pull
a Super Chug with that?
No, but if you're nice,
I'll let you buy me a slushie.
I see you know
your convenience speak pretty well.
Yeah, well, uh,
I've been moved around all my life.
Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas.
Sherwood, Ohio.
There's always been
a Snappy Snack Shack.
Any town, any time,
pop a ham and cheese in the
microwave, and feast on a Turbo Dog.
Keeps me sane.
Really?
That thing you pulled in the
caff today was pretty severe.
Yeah, well, the extreme
always seems to make an impression.
Did you say a cherry or Coke slushie?
I didn't.
Cherry.
Great bike.
Yeah. Just a humble perk
from my dad's construction company.
Seen the commercial, right?
"Bringing every state
to a higher state."
Wait a minute. Jason Dean,
your pop's Big Bud Dean Construction?
It must be rough
moving place to place.
Well, everybody's life has
got static. Is your life perfect?
Oh, yeah. I'm on my way to a party
at Remington University.
Hmm.
No, my life's not perfect.
I don't really like my friends.
Yeah, I, uh... I don't really like
your friends, either.
It's just, like,
they're people I work with,
and our job is being
popular and shit.
Maybe it's time to take a vacation.
Hello, ladies.
Throw your coats on the floor.
- Uh, Veronica, this is Brad.
- Excellent.
Did you girls bring
your partying slippers, huh?
Let's party.
She loves to party.
'Dear Diary, I want to kill,
'and you have to believe it's for
more than just selfish reasons.
'More than just a spoke
in my menstrual cycle.
'You have to believe me.'
It's so great to be
able to talk to a girl
and not have to ask,
"What's your major?"
I hate that.
So when you go to college, what
subjects do you think you'll study?
Come on, David.
Shouldn't we get back to the party?
We will.
It's just you're so hot tonight.
I can't control myself.
'Oh, Christ, I can't explain it,
but I'm allowed an understanding
'that my parents
and these Remington.
University assholes
have chosen to ignore.
'I understand that I
must stop Heather.'
How's my little cheerleader, huh?
Oh, I know everyone
at your high school isn't so uptight.
Come on.
C'mon, look, I don't
feel so good, OK?
Let's do it on the coats.
It'll be excellent, huh?
You know, I have a little
prepared speech I tell my suitor
when he wants more
than I'd like to give him.
"Gee, blank, I had a really nice..."
Save the speeches for Malcolm X.
I just wanna get laid.
You don't deserve my fucking speech!
'Betty Finn was a true friend,
and I sold her out
'for a bunch of Swatch dogs
and Diet Coke heads'.
'Killing Heather would be like offing
the "Wicked Witch of the West".
'Wait, East. West!
God, I sound like a fucking psycho.'
What's your damage?
Brad says you're being a cooze.
Heather, I feel really sick, like,
I'm gonna throw up.
So, can we please jam now?
No. Hell, no.
'Tomorrow I'll be kissing
her aerobicised ass,
'but tonight let me dream
of a world without Heather.
'A world where I am free.'
You stupid fuck.
You goddamn bitch.
You were nothing before you met me.
You were playing Barbies
with Betty Finn.
You were a Bluebird.
You were a Brownie.
You were a Girl Scout cookie.
I got you into a Remington party.
What's my thanks?
It's on the hallway carpet!
I got paid in puke.
Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.
Monday morning you're history.
I'll tell everyone about tonight.
Transfer to Washington.
Transfer to Jefferson.
No one at Westerburg's gonna
let you play their reindeer games.
Dreadful etiquette. I apologise.
That's OK.
I saw the croquet set up in the back.
You up for a match?
Hmm. Thank you.
That was my, uh,
first game of strip croquet.
Oh, you're welcome.
It's a lot more interesting
than just flinging off your clothes,
and boning away
on a neighbour's swing set.
I don't know. There's a lot
to be said for throwing off...
Ow!
What a night.
What a life.
They wanted to move me into
high school out of the sixth grade.
I was supposed
to be this big genius.
Hmm.
Then we decided to chuck the idea
because I'd have trouble
making friends, blah-blah-blah.
Now blah-blah-blah is all I do.
I use my grand IQ
to decide what colour gloss to wear
and how to hit three keggers
before curfew.
Heather Chandler is one bitch
that deserves to die.
- Killing her won't solve anything.
- Hmm.
I say we just grow
up, be adults and die.
- But before that...
- Hmm.
I'd love to see Heather Chandler
puke her guts out.
Trust me, she skips the Saturday
morning trip to Grandma's,
even when she's not hungover.
We'll just concoct ourselves
a little hangover cure
that'll, uh, induce her
to spew red, white and blue then.
And what about,
like, milk and orange
juice? What's the
up-chuck factor on that?
Yeah, I'm a
no-rust-build-up man, myself.
Don't be a dick.
That stuff will kill her.
I know. We can cook up some soup,
and put it in a Coke.
That's-that's pretty sick, hey?
Now should it be chicken noodle,
or bean with bacon?
Put a lid on that stuff.
I say we go with big blue here.
What are you talking
about? She'd never
drink anything that
looked like that, anyway.
Yeah, so we'll, uh...
put it in this. She won't be able
to see what she's drinking.
Let me get a cup, jerk.
OK.
Milk and orange juice.
Hm. Maybe we could, like, cough up
a phlegm globber in it or something.
Mm.
- No?
- Nothing.
Oh, well. Milk and orange juice
will do quite nicely.
Hm. You're chicken.
You're not funny.
I'm sorry.
Uh, Veronica?
- What?
- Uh...
Never mind. I'll-I'll carry the cup.
Morning, Heather.
Veronica.
And Jesse James.
Quelle surprise.
Hear about Veronica's affection
for regurgitation?
Heather, I think last night we both
said a lot of stuff we didn't mean.
Did we? How the hell
did you get in here?
Um... Veronica knew
you'd have a hangover,
so, uh, I whipped this up for you.
It's a family recipe.
What did you do?
Put a phlegm globber in it?
I'm not gonna drink that piss.
I knew this stuff
would be too intense for her.
Intense.
Grow up.
You think I'll drink it
just because you call me chicken?
Just give me the cup, jerk.
Corn nuts.
Oh, my God.
I can't believe it.
I just killed my best friend.
And your Worst enemy.
Same difference.
Oh.
What are we gonna tell the cops?
"Fuck it if she can't
take a joke, Sarge."
The cops.
I can't believe this is my life.
Oh, my God.
I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores
to San Quentin instead of Stanford.
Uh...
All right, just a
little freaked here.
At least you got what you wanted,
you know?
Got what I wanted?
It is one thing to want
somebody out of your life,
it is another thing to serve them
a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.
Uh...
Uh...
Yeah.
All right, we-we-we did a murder,
and that's a crime.
But, uh...
if this were like a suicide thing,
you know?
Like a suicide thing?
Yeah, yeah.
I mean, uh, you can do Heather's
handwriting, as well
as your own, right?
Right?
Yeah.
All right.
"You might think
what I've done is shocking."
Yeah.
Um...
"To me, though,
suicide is the natural answer"
"to the myriad of problems
life has given me."
That's good, but Heather
would never use the word "myriad".
This is the last
thing she'll ever write.
She's gonna wanna cash in
on as many 50-cent words as possible.
Yeah, but she missed "myriad"
on the vocab test two weeks ago.
That only proves my point more.
The word is a badge
for her failures at school.
Oh. OK, you're probably right.
Uh...
"People think just because
you're beautiful and popular,"
"life is easy and fun."
- Yeah.
- Uh...
"No one understood
I had feelings, too."
Huh?
"I die knowing no
one knew the real me."
- Huh.
- Hmm.
That's good.
Have you done this before?
Any other principal
would take the same position.
Keep things business as usual.
Heather Chandler's
not your everyday suicide.
- She was very popular.
- Come on, Paul.
If I let the kids out before lunch,
the sWitchboard
would light up like a Christmas tree.
I must say I was impressed to see
that she made proper use of the
word "myriad" in her suicide note.
I find it profoundly disturbing
that we're told of
the tragic destruction of youth,
and all we can think to talk about
is adequate mourning times
and misused vocabulary words?
Oh, Christ!
We must revel in
this revealing moment!
Look, I suggest
that we get everybody together,
both students and teachers,
in the cafeteria,
and just talk and feel.
Together.
Thank you, Ms Fleming.
You call me when the shuttle lands.
Now, is this Heather
the... cheerleader?
That would be Heather McNamara.
Oh, damn.
I'd be willing to go half a day
for a cheerleader.
God, it's unfair.
It's just so unfair.
We should get off a whole week,
not just an hour.
Write the school board.
Watch it, Heather.
You might be digesting food there.
- Yeah, where is your urge to purge?
- Fuck it.
Look.
Heather left behind
one of her Swatches.
She'd want you to have it.
She always said
you couldn't accessorise for shit.
Sorry to hear about your friend.
I thought she was
your usual airhead bitch.
Guess I was wrong.
We all were.
What a waste.
Oh, the humanity.
Veronica?
Veronica, what are you doing?
I'm just so thrilled...
to finally have an example
of the profound sensitivity
of which a human animal is capable.
That example is Heather Chandler.
- I have her note.
- Ooh!
Now, I'm gonna pass this note
around the class,
so you can all feel
its pathetic beauty for yourself.
And while we do this, I think it's
a good opportunity to share the...
feelings that this suicide
has spurred in all of us.
Now, who would like to begin?
I heard it was really gnarly.
She sucked down a bowl of
multi-purpose
deodorising disinfectant,
and then smash!
Uh, now, Tracy, let's not rehash
the coroner's report.
Let's talk emotions.
Um, Heather and I used to go out,
but she said I was boring.
But now I realise I
really wasn't boring.
It's just that she was
dissatisfied with her life.
That's very good, Peter.
Are we gonna be tested on this?
'We were the same
size, so we could
borrow each other's
clothes and mix it up.
'It was fun.'
'I remember I won her a rhino
at the 4-H Club.'
You're an asshole. Mute him.
'You know, we liked
the same clothes.'
Heather, how many networks
did you run to?
'It's just not gonna be the same
without her.'
What are you talking about?
You hated her. She hated you.
'Every English class
I looked forward to seeing her.'
Heather Chandler's
more popular than ever now.
- Scary stuff.
- Yeah.
Hey, son, I didn't hear you come in.
Hey, dad, how was work today?
It was miserable.
Some damn tribe of
withered old bitches
doesn't want us to terminate
that fleabag hotel.
Huh. All because Glen Miller
and his band once took a shit there.
- Hm.
- Just like Kansas.
Do you remember fucking Kansas?
Yeah, that was the one
with the wheat, right?
Yeah. Save the Memorial
Oak Tree Society.
Showed those fucks.
Yeah, 30 of those 4th July fireworks
attached to the trunk.
Arraigned, but acquitted.
Gosh, pop.
I almost forgot
to introduce my girlfriend.
Oh. Veronica, this is my dad.
- Dad, Veronica.
- Hi.
Son, why don't you ask your
little friend to stay for dinner?
I can't. My mom's making
my favourite meal tonight. Spaghetti.
- Lots of oregano.
- How nice.
The last time I saw
my mom she was
waving from a library
window in Texas.
All right, dad?
Right...
son.
Right.
Take a break, Veronica. Sit down.
So, what was the first day
after Heather's suicide like?
Well, it was OK, I guess.
Terrible thing.
So, will we get to meet
this dark horse prom contender?
Maybe.
Goddamn, will somebody tell me
why I smoke these damn things?
'Cos you're an idiot.
Oh, yeah. That's it.
You two.
Great pâté, but
I'm gonna have to
motor if wanna be
ready for that funeral.
I blame not Heather,
but rather a society
that tells its youth
that the answers can be found
in the MTV video games.
We must pray that the other teenagers
of Sherwood, Ohio,
know the name of that righteous dude,
who can solve their problems.
It's Jesus Christ
and he's in the book.
Amen.
'Oh, God, this is a tragic thing
'and sometimes I have a hard time
dealing with it and stuff.
'Please send Heather
to heaven and all that.'
'Dear God, please make sure
this never happens to me,
'cos I don't think I
can handle suicide.
'Fast early acceptance
into an Ivy League school.
'Please let it be Harvard. Amen.'
'Jesus God in heaven, why did
you have to kill such hot snatch?
'Yeah. It's a joke, man.
'Jeez, people are so serious.
'Hail Mary, who aren't in heaven,
'pray for all us sinners
so we don't get caught.
'Another joke, man.'
'I prayed for the death
of Heather Chandler many times.
'I felt bad every time I did it,
but I kept doing it anyway.
'Now I know you
understood everything.
'Praise Jesus. Hallelujah.'
'Hi. I'm sorry.
'Technically,
I did not kill Heather Chandler,
'but, hey, who am I
trying to kid, right?
'I just want my high school
to be a nice place.
'Amen.
'Did that sound bitchy?'
Veronica... what are
you doing tonight?
I don't knoW. Mourning.
Maybe watch some TV. Why?
Well, Ram asked me out tonight,
but he wants to double with Kurt,
and Kurt doesn't have a date.
Heather,
I have something going with JD.
Please, Veronica.
Put Billy the Kid on hold tonight.
I'll be your best friend.
So we on tonight, man, or what?
I don't know.
I still got to talk to Heather, dude.
Weird funeral, huh?
That pudwapper just
stepped on my foot.
- Let's kick his ass.
- Cool off.
- We're seniors.
- Goddamn geek!
Ah, well.
Sit and spin.
That little prick.
Oh!
You piece of shit fag.
You like to suck big dicks?
- Cut it out.
- Say, "I like to suck big dicks."
Leave him alone, Ram.
Ow.
Say it.
Say it!
OK, OK.
You like to suck big dicks. Ow!
Ow!
I like to suck big dicks.
Oh, hmm! Hmm!
I can't get enough of 'em.
Are you satisfied?
Don't worry. Ram's been so
sweet lately, consoling me and stuff.
It'll be really very.
Promise.
OK, just as long as
it won't be one of those nights
where they get shit-faced,
and take us to a pasture to tip cows.
- Is it sleeping, dude?
- I think so, man.
Shh!
Come here.
Oh, shit.
Cow tipping is the fucking greatest!
Punch it in.
Ow!
Shit. OK, on the count
of three, guy.
One. Two. Three.
When I get that feeling,
I need sexual healing.
Yeah, right, asshole.
What is this shit?
Doing a favour for Heather.
Double date. I tried to tell you
at the funeral, but you rode off.
Another fucking Heather.
I'm sorry.
I'm, uh, just feeling
a little superior tonight.
Seven schools in seven states,
and the only thing different
is my locker combination.
Our love is God.
Let's go get a slushie.
I'm not belittling
the foodless fund, Peter.
It's just w-we're talking
teen suicide here.
The number one song
in America today is.
"Teenage Suicide,
Don't Do It" by Big Fun.
Good Jesus, man, Westerburg
finally got one of these things,
and I'm not gonna blow it.
Great. So Heather
gets the front page and
I get crammed in by
the Taco Bell coupon.
Hi, guys. I came to check up
on this week's lunchtime poll topic.
Hey, don't worry about it, Veronica.
Sit down, huh?
Th-that funeral yesterday
must have really been rough, huh?
Oh, yeah, yeah.
W-we were wondering
if you had any poems, artwork
that Heather did that we can put in
the Heather Chandler yearbook spread?
- The what?
- Oh, but, take a look.
It's a two-page layout with her
suicide note right
up here in the corner.
It's more tasteful than it sounds.
I don't know, Dennis. This stuff
leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Like last night, Veronica?
Excuse me?
I don't get it.
Oh, you did last night.
Kurt told us of your little date.
Yeah, and? I left him drunk,
and flailing in cow shit.
Well, I don't know.
He was really detailed.
Shh.
- Shut up, Courtney.
- No, don't shut up.
I'd like to knoW exactly what I did.
Come on, Veronica.
I'll show you the
lunchtime poll topic.
What the fuck?
OK, I rarely listen to Neanderthals
like Kurt Kelly,
but he said that he and Ram
had a nice little sword fight
in your mouth last night.
You know what I mean, hm?
Eew!
That son of a bitch!
Hi, Kurt?
Hi. This is Veronica Sawyer.
I didn't expect to
be calling, either.
I guess my emotions took over.
I was wondering if
you wanted those
things you've been
saying to really happen.
It's always been a fantasy of mine
to have two guys at once.
Oh, sure,
you can write to Penthouse Forum.
Yeah, in the woods behind the school.
At dawn.
Don't forget Ram.
I don't get the point of me
writing a suicide note
when we're gonna
be shooting them with blanks.
We're not gonna be using
blanks this time.
You can't be serious?
I am.
Listen, my Bonnie and
Clyde days are over.
Wait a second, wait a second.
Do you take German?
French.
All right. These
are Ich Lüge bullets.
My grandfather snared
a shitload of them back in WWII.
They're like tranquillisers,
only they break the skin's surface
enough to cause a little blood,
but no real damage.
So it looks like the person's
been shot and killed,
and really they're just lying there
unconscious and bleeding?
- Oh.
- Right.
See, we shoot Kurt and Ram,
make it look like
they shot each other,
and by the time
they regain consciousness,
they'll be the laughing stock
of the whole school.
Uh, the note's the punch line.
How'd that turn out?
First tell me the similarity
is not incredible.
It's incredible similarity.
Mm.
OK
"Ram and I died
the day we realised
we could never reveal
our forbidden love
"to an uncaring
and un-understanding world.
"The joy we shared in each other's
arms was greater than any touchdown,
"yet, we were
forced to live the lie of
sexist, beer-guzzling,
jock assholes."
That's perfect.
Uh, let's take a look
at some of the homosexual artefacts
I dug up to plant at the scene.
All right.
An issue of Stud Puppy.
It's great!
A candy dish.
A Joan Crawford postcard.
Good.
Some, uh, mascara.
All right, now, here's the
one perfecto thing I picked up.
Mineral water.
Oh, come on, a lot of people
drink mineral water.
It's come a long way.
Yeah, but this is Ohio.
If you don't have
a brewski in your
hand, you might as
well be wearing a dress.
Oh, you're so smart.
Hi, Veronica.
Hi, guys.
Glad you could make it.
So should I just whip it out or...?
Well, I-I-I've made a circle
on each side of the clearing.
Ram, you come over here.
Kurt...
When you get to the circle, strip.
What about you?
I was kinda hoping you could
rip my clothes off me, sport.
Oh... good idea.
OK.
Count of three, guys.
One.
Two.
Three.
You missed him completely?
Yeah, but don't worry.
It was worth it to see the look...
All right, don't move.
I'll, uh, I'll get him back.
- Ha-ha!
- Oh, fuck!
- No.
- Now!
Hey, I heard it that time.
- What?
- Another gunshot from the woods.
Oh, shit. Let's roll!
Kurt doesn't look too good.
Just remember he's left-handed.
Keep going till you hit the clearing.
Come on.
- Mother of shit!
- Call in.
Hey, I heard something out there.
I'm checking it out.
Yeah, this is, uh, Officer McCord.
I've got two dead bodies in the woods
behind Westerburg High.
'Milner, can you hear me?
- 'What's going down?'
- Uh, yeah, yeah.
I think what I heard
was a bunny rabbit.
All I've got here is a couple of kids
making out in a station wagon.
- 'Should I pry them apart?'
- Oh, no. Forget it.
I got all the answers back here.
'Hey...'
Are they naked?
Yeah, so, uh, what's the deal?
Suicide. Double-suicide.
They shot each other.
Hey, that's Kurt Kelly.
Yeah, and the line-backer,
Ram Sweeney.
My God, suicide. Why?
Does this answer your question?
Oh, man. They were fags.
Listen up.
"We realised we could never
reveal our forbidden love"
"to an uncaring
and un-understanding world."
Jesus H. Christ!
The quarterback
buggering the line-backer.
What a waste.
Oh, the humanity.
But...
- Hm.
- So we killed them, didn't we?
Yeah. Of course.
Ich Lüge bullets...
I'm such an idiot!
Look, you believed it
because you wanted to believe it.
Your true feelings were too
gross and icky for you to face.
I did not want them dead!
- You did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- Did not!
- Did, too!
- Did not! Did not!
Shut up! I did not want them dead!
- Yes, you did.
- I did not!
Young love!
Did you hear school's
cancelled today
because Kurt and
Ram killed themselves
in a repressed
homosexual suicide pact?
No way.
God!
The football season
is over, Veronica.
Kurt and Ram
had nothing to offer the school,
but date rapes and AIDS jokes.
Sure.
Can we make an ice run
before the funeral?
If there's any way
you can hear me, Kurt buddy.
I don't care
that you really were some... pansy.
You're my own flesh and blood,
and you made me proud.
My son's a homosexual and I love him.
I love my dead, gay son.
How do you think he'd react to a son
that had a limp wrist with a pulse?
'Dear Diary,
'my teen angst bullshit
has a body count.
'The most popular people
in school are dead.
'Everybody's sad,
but it's a weird kind of sad.
'Suicide gave Heather depth,
Kurt a soul, Ram a brain.
'I don't know what it's given me but,
'I've got no control over myself
when I'm with JD.
'Are we going to prom or to hell?'
Now, it seems we were
in a similar position on Monday
when I thoughtfully suggested
we get together for an unadulterated
emotional outpouring, but no.
You took this as an opportunity
to play yet another round
of let's laugh at the hippy.
- Pauline, if you want...
- Shut up, Paul.
I've seen a lot of bullshit.
Angel dust, switchblades,
sexually perverse photography
exhibits involving tennis rackets,
but this suicide thing...
guess that's more
on Pauline's wavelength.
Well, we're just
gonna write off today,
and on Friday she can hold
her little love-in or whatever.
Whatever.
Attention!
May I have your attention, please?
This school has been
torn apart by tragedy.
I'm here today to fuse it back again
through togetherness.
I want everyone to clasp hands.
We need to connect this cafeteria
into one mighty circuit!
- Excuse me, please.
- Hey look, here comes the TV crew!
Lock your paws!
- We're ready when you are.
- Hi, there.
Come on. Come on.
Let's go. Up here.
Yes, this will be on TV.
Let's show them how you feel!
Looks like Miss Phlegm's
on another one of her crusades.
With usual success, of course.
Come on, freshmen! Get up!
- Hi. What's your name?
- Hi. I'm Heather Duke.
Is this as good for
you as it is for me?
Those fish sticks can wait. Let's go.
Come on, kids!
The whole World is watching!
Show them that you care!
Greetings and salutations.
I'm gonna need a
VHS copy of all this
by Monday for my
Princeton application.
Uh-huh.
You can beat this.
Don't let suicide get you down.
That thing this afternoon,
I'm so angry.
It was chaos, fucking chaos.
What are you talking about, huh?
I mean, today was great.
Chaos was great.
Chaos is what killed
the dinosaurs, darling.
Face it. Our way is the way.
We scare people
into not being assholes.
Our way is not our way.
Oh, yeah?
Tell that to the judge, all right?
Tell it to Kurt Kelly.
- Oh, God!
- I'm telling it to you!
God, you can be so immature!
Oh! You kids are making
too much damn noise!
We beat the bitches.
Oh, beautiful. The beaver's home.
Judge told them
to slurp shit and die.
I put a Norwegian in the boiler room.
Masterful.
And then When that blew,
it set off a pack of thermals
I stuck upstairs.
Some days it's great to be alive.
Stick it to those goddamn...
Do you like your father?
Never given the matter much thought.
Liked my mother.
Yeah, they said her death
was an accident,
but, uh, she kneW what she was doing.
She walked into the building two
minutes before my
dad blew the place up.
She waved at me and then...
boom.
'Dudes, if I get one more
request for that Big Fun song,
'I'm gonna commit suicide.'
Playing our song.
'Here it is,
"Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It."'
That's it. We're breaking up.
What? You can't bring them back.
You must know that.
I am not trying to bring anybody
back, except maybe myself.
No!
And to think there was a time
when I actually
thought you were cool!
Man, if you can't
deal with me now
then just stay home
and shoot your TV.
Blow up a couple
toasters or something.
Just don't come to school,
and don't mess with me.
You'll be back.
Me and Martha Dumptruck?
Where did you get this?
Oh, I just had the nicest little chat
with Ms Dumptruck.
Got along famously.
It's kinda scary how everybody's got
a little story to tell.
Uh, wanna see the canoeing shots?
What is this? Blackmail?
I'll give you a Week's lunch money.
I don't want your money.
I want your strength.
Westerburg does not need
mushy togetherness.
It needs a strong leader.
Heather Chandler
was that leader, but...
But she couldn't handle it.
I think you can.
Moby Dick is dunked.
The white whale
drank some bad plankton,
and splashed through a coffee table,
and now it's your
turn to take the helm.
- What about the photographs?
- Oh, don't worry.
I'll ask you to do me a favour,
and it'll be one you'll enjoy.
You'll get the negatives
and everything back then.
But in the meantime, strength.
Here's a little gift.
From Heather to Heather.
- Guess who?
- Heather?
- 'Hello?'
- Hello, Betty? This is Veronica.
I don't believe it! I'm winning!
Don't you start
getting cocky on me now, girl.
I really missed you.
I know I'm not as exciting
as your other friends.
That is bullshit.
Shoot.
Do you know I'm still a virgin?
OK, I... I French kissed
Al Springer once.
It was a total disaster.
Shoot the ball.
You know, Betty,
your daydreams are
a lot better than my
realities, believe me.
But now, prepare to die.
Ronnie!
You're not gonna go
for those two shots.
I mean, uh, go ahead, knock me out.
It's the only way to win.
It's not my style.
Nice guys finish last. I should know.
Bravo.
Brav-o.
Listen, I-I got to get home, OK?
- OK.
- Thanks.
Bye, Betty.
Bye.
Betty, leaving so soon?
I'm red.
'The Westerburg suicides
were tough on all of us,
'but we shared the pain of
losing three very popular students.
'I came into the cafeteria,
asked them to hold hands...'
Isn't that that flake
we met at the open house?
'...burst of cleansing synchronicity,
'TV cameras happened
onto our path and captured...'
Cleansing synchronicity?
'...an emotional
outpouring of emotion.'
Outpouring of emotion?
Ha! Look! There's Heather.
There's Heather.
Where are you, Veronica?
'Before a teenager
decides to kill himself,
'there are certain facts
that he should know.
'After all, this is a decision
that affects all of us,
'and there's only one chance
to get it right.'
'Getting some supervi...'
Turn that back on.
Can't you see these programmes
are eating suicide up with a spoon?
They're making it sound like
a cool thing to do.
Are you trying to
tell me it's not a time
for troubled youth?
Stand up straight.
All we want is to be
treated like human beings,
not to be experimented on
like guinea pigs,
or patronised like bunny rabbits.
I don't patronise bunny rabbits.
Treated like human beings?
Is that what you said,
little "Miss Voice-of-a-Generation"?
Just how do you think
adults act with other adults?
You think it's all just
a game of doubles tennis?
When teenagers complain that they
want to be treated like human beings,
it's usually because they are
being treated like human beings.
Yeah, well, I guess I picked
the wrong time to be a human being.
Well, you'll live.
Want some pâté?
Hi, everybody. Door was open.
Veronica, have you heard?
We were doing Chinese at the
food fair when it
comes over the radio
that Martha Dumptruck
tried to buy the farm.
She belly-flopped in front of
a car wearing a suicide note.
Well, is she dead?
No. That's the punch line.
She's alive and in stable condition.
Just another case of a geek
trying to imitate the popular people
and failing miserably.
Is that pâté?
I said I was sorry.
You were out of control.
I mean, Heather and Kurt were
a shock, but Martha Dumptruck?
Get crucial. She dialled
suicide hotlines in her diapers.
You're not funny.
Look, Martha couldn't take the heat,
so she got out of the kitchen.
Just think what a
better place this world
would be if every
nimrod followed her cue.
Just shut up. "Hot Probs" is on.
Oh, shit. Yeah.
'Skipper's OK, but still sometimes
I feel like-like I'm on that island,
'and-and Gilligan
can be so stupid sometimes.'
Yeah, well, dude,
just remember, you know,
if it wasn't for the courage
of the fearless crew,
the Minnow would be lost
and you are, too.
Next call.
That sounded like a good one.
'Hey, you've got the dog catcher.'
'My name is Heather.
No, i-it's not Heather.'
'No, it...'
It's Madonna.
Jeez. No, not that.
'Hey, babe.'
I need a name.
My name is Tweety.
'Tweety? Ooh, tweet!'
God has cursed me, I think.
The last guy I had sex with
killed himself the next day.
I'm failing math.
My whole life is a mess.
I was supposed to be captain
of the cheerleading team.
Man, she knows We
listen to this show.
Holy shit! We'll crucify her!
'But my parents are
divorced and stuff.'
'Heather told everyone about Heather.
'Yes, dear Diary,
I've cut off Heather Chandler's head,
'and Heather Duke's head
has sprouted back in its place
'like some mythological thing
'my eighth-grade boyfriend
would have known about.
'Heather's even doing
the old note trick.'
'I've seen JD's way.
'I've seen Miss
Pauline Fleming's way,
'and nothing has changed.
'I guess that's Heather's way.
'And, Jesus, what about JD?
'I can't get him out of my head.
'Wait. Where's Heather going?'
Where's Heather going?
She's going to cry.
Fucking child protector caps.
Now where is she going?
Heather!
What are you trying to do? Kill me?
What are you trying to do? Sleep?
Suicide is a private thing.
Heather, you're
throwing your life away
to become a statistic
in the "US-fucking-A Today".
Now that is the least private thing
I can think of.
What about Heather and Kurt and Ram?
If everyone jumped off a bridge,
would you?
Probably.
Hey now, if you were happy
every day of your life,
you wouldn't be a human being,
you'd be a game-show host.
What do you say
we knock off early,
buy some shoes,
something lame like that?
OK.
So it's, uh, come to this.
Heather Chandler did polls.
I want you to do a petition,
as a favour,
as the favour.
You've, uh, heard
of the group Big Fun, right?
That's right.
"Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It".
All right. Some teenybopper rag says
that, uh, they want to play a prom.
Now, it could be Westerburg's
if we get everybody's John Hancock.
I'll get right on it, coach.
Oh, little gift for you.
I won't be needing it.
Heather?
Veronica.
Colour me stoked, girl.
I've gotten everyone
to sign this petition,
even the ones who think Big Fun
are tuneless Eurofags.
People love me.
You know, you haven't signed, yet.
People love you but I know you.
Jennifer Forbes
told me the petition she signed
was to put a hot tub in the
cafeteria, and Doug Hilton said...
Some people need different kinds
of convincing than others.
Look, just sign the petition, OK?
Don't talk to me like that, OK?
Look, it was JD's idea.
He made out the
signature sheet and
everything so why
don't you just sign it?
No.
Jealous much?
Heather, why can't
you just be a friend?
Why are you such a megabitch?
Because I can be.
Veronica, why are
you pulling my dick?
Do you think, I mean,
do you really think,
if Betty Finn's fairy godmother
made her cool,
she would still hang out
with her dweebette friends?
No way, Veronica.
Uh-uh.
Wanna go out tonight?
Catch a movie? Some miniature golf?
I was thinking
more along the lines
of slitting Heather
Duke's wrists open,
making it look like a suicide.
Ah! Now you're talking.
I could be up for that.
I've already started underlining
meaningful passages
in her copy of "Moby Dick",
if you know what I mean.
I knew you'd be back, Veronica.
I knew it. I was positive, sure.
It's over, JD. Over. Grow up!
I don't get it.
I mean, you were wrong. I was right!
Strength, damn it!
Come on. Come back!
Yes?
Y-your friend Jason Dean stopped by.
He seemed very concerned about you.
He said that he thought
you might try to kill yourself.
You have been depressed lately.
Oh, he left this for you.
Oh, my God.
He said that we should
keep you away from sharp objects,
uh, closed garage doors,
chemical, uh, substances.
- Prescription drugs.
- Prescription drugs.
"To neither love
nor reverence wilt thou be kind."
"And even for hate
thou canst but kill,"
"and all are killed."
I like it.
It's got that "what a cruel world
so let's toss ourselves in the abyss"
type of ambiance, huh?
Come on.
It's Heather's copy of "Moby Dick".
Why don't you give it a try, huh?
Underline something.
Get off of my bed,
you fucking psycho!
You think you're a rebel?
Do you actually think you're a rebel?
You're not a rebel.
You're fucking psychotic!
You say "tom-ay-to",
I say "tom-ah-to".
Hold it.
Eskimo. Look at that.
That's one word.
I love it! I usually go
for the whole sentence myself.
But this is perfecto.
Eskimo, you know, it's so,
uh, mysterious.
Es-ki-mo.
Come on.
JD, you are not even listening to me!
Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag!
T-t-that knife is filthy!
What do you think I'm gonna
do with it? Take out her tonsils?
Excuse me, I think I know Heather
a little better than you do.
If she was gonna slit her wrists,
the knife would be spotless.
All right, how's this? Can you see
your fucking reflection in the thing?
Tomorrow someone else
is just gonna move into her place.
That person could be me.
Ha! There's only one of us who
knows how to do
Heather's handwriting.
And if you think I'm gonna write
another suicide note, you're wrong!
You don't get it, do you?
But society nods its head
at any horror the American teenager
can think to bring upon itself!
Uh-uh... Nobody's gonna care about
exact handwriting. Help me. Quick.
Look.
"Life sucks."
It's perfecto.
Jesus, I've got
a meaningfully marked-up "Moby Dick".
What else does a suicide need, huh?
Now, if you'll excuse me.
No!
Open the door!
Eskimo.
Heather Duke underlined a lot of
things in this copy of "Moby Dick",
but I believe the word "Eskimo",
underlined all by itself,
is the key
to understanding Heather's pain.
On the surface, Heather Duke
was the vivacious young lady
we all knew her to be,
but her soul Was in Antarctica,
freezing with the knowledge
of the way fellow
teenagers can be cruel.
The way that parents
can be unresponsive.
And as she writes so eloquently
in her suicide note,
the way that life can suck!
We'll all miss
Sherwood's little Eskimo.
Let's just hope
she's rubbing noses with Jesus.
Is this turnout weak or what?
I had at least 70 more people
at my funeral.
Heather?
God, Veronica.
My afterlife is so boring.
If I have to sing
"Kumbaya" one more time...
What are you doing here?
I made your favourite.
Spaghetti.
Lots of oregano.
Dinner!
Veronica! Dinner!
'Dear Diary, last entry.
'No one can stop JD,
'not the FBI, the CIA or the PTA.
'He once told me that the extreme
always makes an impression.
'Well, noW it's my turn.
'Let's see how the
son of a bitch reacts
to a suicide he didn't
perform himself.'
I can't believe you did it.
I was teasing.
I loved you.
Sure, I Was... I was
coming up here to kill ya.
First, I was gonna try and get
you back with my amazing petition.
It's a shame you can't see what
our, uh, fellow
students really signed.
All right, listen.
"We students
of Westerburg High will die."
"Today, our burning bodies
will be the ultimate protest"
"to a society that degrades us."
"Fuck you all."
It's not very subtle,
but, uh, neither's blowing up
a whole school, now, is it?
Talk about your suicide pacts, huh?
When our school blows up tomorrow,
it's gonna be the kind of thing
to infect a generation!
I mean, it's gonna be
a Woodstock for the '80s!
Damn it, Veronica.
We could have toasted
some marshmallows together.
What does she want?
A written invitation?
Veronica! Dinner!
Sheesh.
Veronica, I...
Oh, I... I-I-I s-s-should have
let you take that job at the mall.
It was... it was just
that I was afraid of
you coming home
late at night and I...
Hey, mom, why so tense?
Hey, Pop,
I need some help with my homework.
Uh, not right now, tiger.
I'm a little busy.
Veronica!
JD told me
you committed suicide last night.
Where is he? Where's JD?
We have to talk.
Whether to kill yourself or not
is one of the most important
decisions a teenager can make.
Get a job.
Rodney, where's everybody going?
It's Friday.
Shit, another damn pep assembly.
Yeah, you know, these things,
they get pretty artificial,
but, you know,
at least you get out of class.
Rodney, what's underneath the gym?
The boiler room.
May I see your hall pass?
I knew that loose was too noose.
I mean, uh.. Noose too loose.
Goddamn you, woman.
Like father, like son.
A serious-as-fuck bomb
in the boiler room
to set off a pack of
thermals upstairs.
OK, let's start by putting
the bomb down on the ground.
I knew that.
I knew that.
OK, put your hands on your head.
You didn't say, "Simon says".
Let's go, Rottweilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
- W-E-S!
- T-E-R!
- T-E-R!
- B-U-R!
B-U-R!
- G!
- G!
What does it spell?
- Westerburg!
- Again!
Westerburg!
Westerburg!
Lean to the left, lean to the right!
Stand up, sit down,
fight, fight, fight!
Stop!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
You think just because
you started this you can end it?
I'll kill, I'll fucking kill you,
I swear to God.
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Yeah!
How do I turn off
the goddamn bomb, asshole?
Fuck you!
Shit!
It's all over, JD. Help me stop it.
You wanna clean the slate
as much as I do.
Right, so maybe I am
killing everyone in the school...
because nobody loves me.
Let's face it, all right?
The only place different social types
can genuinely get along
with each other is in heaven.
Which button do I
press to turn it off?
Try the red one, all right?
Seriously, people are going to look
at the ashes of Westerburg and say,
"Now there, it's a school
that self-destructed,"
"not because society didn't care,"
"but because the school was society!"
It's pretty deep, huh?
Which red button?
Press the middle one to turn it off,
if that's what you really want.
You know what I want, babe?
What?
Cool guys like you out of my life.
Colour me impressed.
You, uh...
You really fucked me up
pretty bad, Veronica.
You, um...
You got power.
Power I didn't think you had.
The slate is clean.
Pretend I did blow up the school.
All the schools.
Now that you're dead,
what are you gonna do with your life?
Veronica.
- You look like hell.
- Yeah?
I just got back.
Veronica, what are you doing?
Heather, my love,
there's a new sheriff in town.
Hey, Martha!
My date for the prom
kinda flaked out on me.
If you weren't doing
anything that night,
maybe we could rent
some new releases.
Pop some popcorn.
I'd like that.
Yeah. So would I.
It's your turn, Heather.
No, Heather. It's Heather's turn.
Heather.
Sorry, Heather.
Ow.
Dear Diary.
'Heather told me
she teaches people real life.
'She said, "Real
life sucks losers dry."
"'If you wanna fuck with the eagles,
you have to learn to fly."
'I said, "So, you teach people
how to spread their wings and fly?"
'She said, "Yes."
'I said, "You're beautiful."'
God, come on, Veronica.
What is your damage, Heather?
Don't blame me, blame Heather.
She told me to haul your ass
into the caff pronto.
Back me up, Heather.
She really wants to
talk to you, Veronica.
OK, I'm going. Jesus Christ.
Hello, Heather.
Veronica. Finally.
I got a note of Kurt Kelly's.
I need you to forge a hot and horny,
but realistically low-key note
in Kurt's handwriting.
We'll slip it onto
Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray.
Shit, Heather. I don't have
anything against Martha Dunnstock.
You don't have
anything for her either.
Come on. It'll be very.
The note will give her shower nozzle
masturbation material for weeks.
I'll think about it.
Don't think.
Veronica needs something to write on.
Bend over.
"Dear Martha, you're so sweet..."
I'm telling you, man,
it would so be righteous
to be in a Veronica Sawyer-
Heather Chandler sandwich.
Oh, hell, yes.
I wanna get a Heather
and put her on my johnson
and just spin her around
like a goddamn pinwheel!
Punch it in.
Westerburg feeds the world.
Come on, people.
Give that leftover lunch money
to people who don't have lunches.
God, aren't they fed, yet?
Do they even have
Thanksgiving in Africa?
Oh, sure. Pilgrims,
Indians, Tater Tots.
It's a real party continent.
Sawyer, guess what today is.
Ouch. Lunchtime poll?
- So, what's the question?
- Yeah, what's the question?
Goddamn, you were with me
in study hall when I thought of it.
I forgot.
Such a pillowcase.
This wouldn't be that bizarro thing
you were babbling about over
the phone last night, would it?
Of course it is.
I told Dennis if he
gives me another
political topic, I'd
spew burrito chunks.
Oh, Veronica, I'm sorry.
Betty Finn. Gosh.
Sorry I couldn't make it
to your birthday party last month.
It's OK. Your mom said
you had a big date.
I think I'd probably miss
my own birthday for a date.
- Don't say that.
- You know what?
I was looking
around the other day,
and I dug up, uh,
these old photographs.
Oh. They're great.
- Come on, Veronica.
- I was talking to somebody!
Great. Here comes Heather.
Oh, shit.
Hi, Courtney. Love your cardigan.
Thanks. I just got it
last night at The Limited.
Like, totally blew my allowance.
Check this out.
You win $5 million
from the Publisher Sweepstakes,
and the same day
that Big Ed guy gives you the check,
aliens land on the earth and say
they'll blow up the
world in two days.
What do you do?
That's easy.
I'd just slide that
wad over to my father,
because he is, like,
one of the top brokers in the state.
If I got that money,
I'd give it all to the homeless.
Every cent.
You're beautiful.
If you're gonna openly be a bitch...
Heather, why can't we talk
to different kinds of people?
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.
Do I look like Mother Teresa?
If I did, I probably wouldn't mind
talking to the geek squad.
Huh. Did you see that?
Heather number one
just looked right at me.
Does it not bother
you that everybody
in this school thinks
you're a piranha?
Like I give a shit.
They all want me
as a friend or a fuck.
I'm worshipped at Westerburg,
and I'm only a junior.
I can't believe this.
We're going to a party
at Remington University tonight,
and we're brushing up
on our conversational skills
with the scum of the school.
- Hey.
- Hi.
So this is
what's called a lunchtime poll.
You win $5 million
in the Publisher Sweepstakes.
And the same day that what's-his-face
gives you the cheque...
Aliens land on earth...
And say they're gonna
blow up the world in two days.
What are you gonna do with the money?
I'd go to Egypt. With a girl.
I'd use the money
for an end-of-the-world get-together.
I'd pay Madonna a million bucks
to sit on my face,
and have a ride like
the Kentucky Derby.
That's gotta be the most
spooky-assed question I ever heard.
All right, this is important.
After taxes, I'll only be getting...
She should pay me, though.
You go to the zoo and get a lion,
and then, put a remote control bomb
up its butt.
Then there's social
security, legal fees.
You push the button on the bomb,
and you and the lion die like one.
What?
Oh, my God. Here we go.
Oh.
Oh, my God.
Hi, Veronica. Five
keeps an infant alive.
You wanted to be a member of
the most powerful clique in school.
If I wasn't already the head of it,
I'd want the same thing.
Come on, Veronica.
You used to have a sense of humour.
Veronica, could you
come back here a minute?
A true friend's work is never done.
Gross.
Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so '87.
You know, maybe
you should see a doctor.
Yeah, maybe.
Come on, Heather, let's take
another look at today's lunch.
God, Veronica, drool much?
His name's Jason Dean.
He's in my "American History".
Hello, Jason Dean.
Greetings and salutations.
Are you a Heather?
No. I'm a Veronica.
Sawyer.
This may seem
like a really stupid question.
There are no stupid questions.
You inherit $5 million.
The same day aliens
land on the earth and
say they're gonna
blow it up in two days.
What do you do?
Well, that's the stupidest question
I've ever heard.
Who's that guy in the coat
think he is anyways?
Bo Diddley?
Veronica's into his act, no doubt.
I don't know. Probably row out
to the middle of a lake somewhere.
Bring along a bottle of tequila,
my sax and some Bach.
How very.
Come on, Veronica.
- Later.
- Definitely.
- Let's kick his ass.
- Shit, Ram. We're seniors, man.
We're too old
for kind of that kind of crap.
Let's give him a good scare though.
You gonna eat this?
What did your
boyfriend say when you
told him you were
moving to Sherwood, Ohio?
Answer him, dick.
Hey, Ram, doesn't this cafeteria
have a "no fags allowed" rule?
They seem to have an open-door policy
for assholes though, don't they?
What did you say, dickhead?
I'll repeat myself.
God, they won't expel him.
They'll just suspend him
for a week or something.
He used a real gun.
They should throw his ass in jail.
No way. He used blanks.
All JD really did
was ruin two pairs of pants.
Maybe not even that.
Can you bleach out urine stains?
You seem pretty amused.
I thought you had given up
on high school guys.
Never say never.
What are you gonna do, Heather?
Take the two shots or send me out?
Did you have a brain tumour
for breakfast?
First you ask if you can be red,
knowing that I'm always red.
Shit.
It's your turn, Heather.
Easy shot, Heather.
No way, no day.
Give it up, girl.
- Holy shit.
- God, that was incredible!
Whoo!
So tonight's the night.
Are you two excited?
I'm giving Veronica her shot.
Her first Remington party.
You blow it tonight, girl, and it's
keggers with kids all next year.
- Why?
- Why not?
Heather, your mother's here.
Come on, whoever wants a ride.
- Bye. Thank you.
- Bye-bye.
- Bye.
- Bye, girls.
Hey, take a break,
Veronica. Sit down.
So, what was the first week of,
uh, spring vacation withdrawal like?
I don't know. It was OK, I guess.
Hey, kid, isn't the prom coming up?
I guess.
Any contestants
worth mentioning?
Maybe. There's
kind of a dark horse in the running.
Goddamn, will somebody tell me
why I read these spy novels?
Because you're an idiot.
Oh, yeah, that's it.
You two.
Great pâté, but
I gotta motor if I
wanna be ready
for that party tonight.
- Corn nuts!
- BQ or plain?
BQ!
You gonna pull
a Super Chug with that?
No, but if you're nice,
I'll let you buy me a slushie.
I see you know
your convenience speak pretty well.
Yeah, well, uh,
I've been moved around all my life.
Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas.
Sherwood, Ohio.
There's always been
a Snappy Snack Shack.
Any town, any time,
pop a ham and cheese in the
microwave, and feast on a Turbo Dog.
Keeps me sane.
Really?
That thing you pulled in the
caff today was pretty severe.
Yeah, well, the extreme
always seems to make an impression.
Did you say a cherry or Coke slushie?
I didn't.
Cherry.
Great bike.
Yeah. Just a humble perk
from my dad's construction company.
Seen the commercial, right?
"Bringing every state
to a higher state."
Wait a minute. Jason Dean,
your pop's Big Bud Dean Construction?
It must be rough
moving place to place.
Well, everybody's life has
got static. Is your life perfect?
Oh, yeah. I'm on my way to a party
at Remington University.
Hmm.
No, my life's not perfect.
I don't really like my friends.
Yeah, I, uh... I don't really like
your friends, either.
It's just, like,
they're people I work with,
and our job is being
popular and shit.
Maybe it's time to take a vacation.
Hello, ladies.
Throw your coats on the floor.
- Uh, Veronica, this is Brad.
- Excellent.
Did you girls bring
your partying slippers, huh?
Let's party.
She loves to party.
'Dear Diary, I want to kill,
'and you have to believe it's for
more than just selfish reasons.
'More than just a spoke
in my menstrual cycle.
'You have to believe me.'
It's so great to be
able to talk to a girl
and not have to ask,
"What's your major?"
I hate that.
So when you go to college, what
subjects do you think you'll study?
Come on, David.
Shouldn't we get back to the party?
We will.
It's just you're so hot tonight.
I can't control myself.
'Oh, Christ, I can't explain it,
but I'm allowed an understanding
'that my parents
and these Remington.
University assholes
have chosen to ignore.
'I understand that I
must stop Heather.'
How's my little cheerleader, huh?
Oh, I know everyone
at your high school isn't so uptight.
Come on.
C'mon, look, I don't
feel so good, OK?
Let's do it on the coats.
It'll be excellent, huh?
You know, I have a little
prepared speech I tell my suitor
when he wants more
than I'd like to give him.
"Gee, blank, I had a really nice..."
Save the speeches for Malcolm X.
I just wanna get laid.
You don't deserve my fucking speech!
'Betty Finn was a true friend,
and I sold her out
'for a bunch of Swatch dogs
and Diet Coke heads'.
'Killing Heather would be like offing
the "Wicked Witch of the West".
'Wait, East. West!
God, I sound like a fucking psycho.'
What's your damage?
Brad says you're being a cooze.
Heather, I feel really sick, like,
I'm gonna throw up.
So, can we please jam now?
No. Hell, no.
'Tomorrow I'll be kissing
her aerobicised ass,
'but tonight let me dream
of a world without Heather.
'A world where I am free.'
You stupid fuck.
You goddamn bitch.
You were nothing before you met me.
You were playing Barbies
with Betty Finn.
You were a Bluebird.
You were a Brownie.
You were a Girl Scout cookie.
I got you into a Remington party.
What's my thanks?
It's on the hallway carpet!
I got paid in puke.
Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.
Monday morning you're history.
I'll tell everyone about tonight.
Transfer to Washington.
Transfer to Jefferson.
No one at Westerburg's gonna
let you play their reindeer games.
Dreadful etiquette. I apologise.
That's OK.
I saw the croquet set up in the back.
You up for a match?
Hmm. Thank you.
That was my, uh,
first game of strip croquet.
Oh, you're welcome.
It's a lot more interesting
than just flinging off your clothes,
and boning away
on a neighbour's swing set.
I don't know. There's a lot
to be said for throwing off...
Ow!
What a night.
What a life.
They wanted to move me into
high school out of the sixth grade.
I was supposed
to be this big genius.
Hmm.
Then we decided to chuck the idea
because I'd have trouble
making friends, blah-blah-blah.
Now blah-blah-blah is all I do.
I use my grand IQ
to decide what colour gloss to wear
and how to hit three keggers
before curfew.
Heather Chandler is one bitch
that deserves to die.
- Killing her won't solve anything.
- Hmm.
I say we just grow
up, be adults and die.
- But before that...
- Hmm.
I'd love to see Heather Chandler
puke her guts out.
Trust me, she skips the Saturday
morning trip to Grandma's,
even when she's not hungover.
We'll just concoct ourselves
a little hangover cure
that'll, uh, induce her
to spew red, white and blue then.
And what about,
like, milk and orange
juice? What's the
up-chuck factor on that?
Yeah, I'm a
no-rust-build-up man, myself.
Don't be a dick.
That stuff will kill her.
I know. We can cook up some soup,
and put it in a Coke.
That's-that's pretty sick, hey?
Now should it be chicken noodle,
or bean with bacon?
Put a lid on that stuff.
I say we go with big blue here.
What are you talking
about? She'd never
drink anything that
looked like that, anyway.
Yeah, so we'll, uh...
put it in this. She won't be able
to see what she's drinking.
Let me get a cup, jerk.
OK.
Milk and orange juice.
Hm. Maybe we could, like, cough up
a phlegm globber in it or something.
Mm.
- No?
- Nothing.
Oh, well. Milk and orange juice
will do quite nicely.
Hm. You're chicken.
You're not funny.
I'm sorry.
Uh, Veronica?
- What?
- Uh...
Never mind. I'll-I'll carry the cup.
Morning, Heather.
Veronica.
And Jesse James.
Quelle surprise.
Hear about Veronica's affection
for regurgitation?
Heather, I think last night we both
said a lot of stuff we didn't mean.
Did we? How the hell
did you get in here?
Um... Veronica knew
you'd have a hangover,
so, uh, I whipped this up for you.
It's a family recipe.
What did you do?
Put a phlegm globber in it?
I'm not gonna drink that piss.
I knew this stuff
would be too intense for her.
Intense.
Grow up.
You think I'll drink it
just because you call me chicken?
Just give me the cup, jerk.
Corn nuts.
Oh, my God.
I can't believe it.
I just killed my best friend.
And your Worst enemy.
Same difference.
Oh.
What are we gonna tell the cops?
"Fuck it if she can't
take a joke, Sarge."
The cops.
I can't believe this is my life.
Oh, my God.
I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores
to San Quentin instead of Stanford.
Uh...
All right, just a
little freaked here.
At least you got what you wanted,
you know?
Got what I wanted?
It is one thing to want
somebody out of your life,
it is another thing to serve them
a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.
Uh...
Uh...
Yeah.
All right, we-we-we did a murder,
and that's a crime.
But, uh...
if this were like a suicide thing,
you know?
Like a suicide thing?
Yeah, yeah.
I mean, uh, you can do Heather's
handwriting, as well
as your own, right?
Right?
Yeah.
All right.
"You might think
what I've done is shocking."
Yeah.
Um...
"To me, though,
suicide is the natural answer"
"to the myriad of problems
life has given me."
That's good, but Heather
would never use the word "myriad".
This is the last
thing she'll ever write.
She's gonna wanna cash in
on as many 50-cent words as possible.
Yeah, but she missed "myriad"
on the vocab test two weeks ago.
That only proves my point more.
The word is a badge
for her failures at school.
Oh. OK, you're probably right.
Uh...
"People think just because
you're beautiful and popular,"
"life is easy and fun."
- Yeah.
- Uh...
"No one understood
I had feelings, too."
Huh?
"I die knowing no
one knew the real me."
- Huh.
- Hmm.
That's good.
Have you done this before?
Any other principal
would take the same position.
Keep things business as usual.
Heather Chandler's
not your everyday suicide.
- She was very popular.
- Come on, Paul.
If I let the kids out before lunch,
the sWitchboard
would light up like a Christmas tree.
I must say I was impressed to see
that she made proper use of the
word "myriad" in her suicide note.
I find it profoundly disturbing
that we're told of
the tragic destruction of youth,
and all we can think to talk about
is adequate mourning times
and misused vocabulary words?
Oh, Christ!
We must revel in
this revealing moment!
Look, I suggest
that we get everybody together,
both students and teachers,
in the cafeteria,
and just talk and feel.
Together.
Thank you, Ms Fleming.
You call me when the shuttle lands.
Now, is this Heather
the... cheerleader?
That would be Heather McNamara.
Oh, damn.
I'd be willing to go half a day
for a cheerleader.
God, it's unfair.
It's just so unfair.
We should get off a whole week,
not just an hour.
Write the school board.
Watch it, Heather.
You might be digesting food there.
- Yeah, where is your urge to purge?
- Fuck it.
Look.
Heather left behind
one of her Swatches.
She'd want you to have it.
She always said
you couldn't accessorise for shit.
Sorry to hear about your friend.
I thought she was
your usual airhead bitch.
Guess I was wrong.
We all were.
What a waste.
Oh, the humanity.
Veronica?
Veronica, what are you doing?
I'm just so thrilled...
to finally have an example
of the profound sensitivity
of which a human animal is capable.
That example is Heather Chandler.
- I have her note.
- Ooh!
Now, I'm gonna pass this note
around the class,
so you can all feel
its pathetic beauty for yourself.
And while we do this, I think it's
a good opportunity to share the...
feelings that this suicide
has spurred in all of us.
Now, who would like to begin?
I heard it was really gnarly.
She sucked down a bowl of
multi-purpose
deodorising disinfectant,
and then smash!
Uh, now, Tracy, let's not rehash
the coroner's report.
Let's talk emotions.
Um, Heather and I used to go out,
but she said I was boring.
But now I realise I
really wasn't boring.
It's just that she was
dissatisfied with her life.
That's very good, Peter.
Are we gonna be tested on this?
'We were the same
size, so we could
borrow each other's
clothes and mix it up.
'It was fun.'
'I remember I won her a rhino
at the 4-H Club.'
You're an asshole. Mute him.
'You know, we liked
the same clothes.'
Heather, how many networks
did you run to?
'It's just not gonna be the same
without her.'
What are you talking about?
You hated her. She hated you.
'Every English class
I looked forward to seeing her.'
Heather Chandler's
more popular than ever now.
- Scary stuff.
- Yeah.
Hey, son, I didn't hear you come in.
Hey, dad, how was work today?
It was miserable.
Some damn tribe of
withered old bitches
doesn't want us to terminate
that fleabag hotel.
Huh. All because Glen Miller
and his band once took a shit there.
- Hm.
- Just like Kansas.
Do you remember fucking Kansas?
Yeah, that was the one
with the wheat, right?
Yeah. Save the Memorial
Oak Tree Society.
Showed those fucks.
Yeah, 30 of those 4th July fireworks
attached to the trunk.
Arraigned, but acquitted.
Gosh, pop.
I almost forgot
to introduce my girlfriend.
Oh. Veronica, this is my dad.
- Dad, Veronica.
- Hi.
Son, why don't you ask your
little friend to stay for dinner?
I can't. My mom's making
my favourite meal tonight. Spaghetti.
- Lots of oregano.
- How nice.
The last time I saw
my mom she was
waving from a library
window in Texas.
All right, dad?
Right...
son.
Right.
Take a break, Veronica. Sit down.
So, what was the first day
after Heather's suicide like?
Well, it was OK, I guess.
Terrible thing.
So, will we get to meet
this dark horse prom contender?
Maybe.
Goddamn, will somebody tell me
why I smoke these damn things?
'Cos you're an idiot.
Oh, yeah. That's it.
You two.
Great pâté, but
I'm gonna have to
motor if wanna be
ready for that funeral.
I blame not Heather,
but rather a society
that tells its youth
that the answers can be found
in the MTV video games.
We must pray that the other teenagers
of Sherwood, Ohio,
know the name of that righteous dude,
who can solve their problems.
It's Jesus Christ
and he's in the book.
Amen.
'Oh, God, this is a tragic thing
'and sometimes I have a hard time
dealing with it and stuff.
'Please send Heather
to heaven and all that.'
'Dear God, please make sure
this never happens to me,
'cos I don't think I
can handle suicide.
'Fast early acceptance
into an Ivy League school.
'Please let it be Harvard. Amen.'
'Jesus God in heaven, why did
you have to kill such hot snatch?
'Yeah. It's a joke, man.
'Jeez, people are so serious.
'Hail Mary, who aren't in heaven,
'pray for all us sinners
so we don't get caught.
'Another joke, man.'
'I prayed for the death
of Heather Chandler many times.
'I felt bad every time I did it,
but I kept doing it anyway.
'Now I know you
understood everything.
'Praise Jesus. Hallelujah.'
'Hi. I'm sorry.
'Technically,
I did not kill Heather Chandler,
'but, hey, who am I
trying to kid, right?
'I just want my high school
to be a nice place.
'Amen.
'Did that sound bitchy?'
Veronica... what are
you doing tonight?
I don't knoW. Mourning.
Maybe watch some TV. Why?
Well, Ram asked me out tonight,
but he wants to double with Kurt,
and Kurt doesn't have a date.
Heather,
I have something going with JD.
Please, Veronica.
Put Billy the Kid on hold tonight.
I'll be your best friend.
So we on tonight, man, or what?
I don't know.
I still got to talk to Heather, dude.
Weird funeral, huh?
That pudwapper just
stepped on my foot.
- Let's kick his ass.
- Cool off.
- We're seniors.
- Goddamn geek!
Ah, well.
Sit and spin.
That little prick.
Oh!
You piece of shit fag.
You like to suck big dicks?
- Cut it out.
- Say, "I like to suck big dicks."
Leave him alone, Ram.
Ow.
Say it.
Say it!
OK, OK.
You like to suck big dicks. Ow!
Ow!
I like to suck big dicks.
Oh, hmm! Hmm!
I can't get enough of 'em.
Are you satisfied?
Don't worry. Ram's been so
sweet lately, consoling me and stuff.
It'll be really very.
Promise.
OK, just as long as
it won't be one of those nights
where they get shit-faced,
and take us to a pasture to tip cows.
- Is it sleeping, dude?
- I think so, man.
Shh!
Come here.
Oh, shit.
Cow tipping is the fucking greatest!
Punch it in.
Ow!
Shit. OK, on the count
of three, guy.
One. Two. Three.
When I get that feeling,
I need sexual healing.
Yeah, right, asshole.
What is this shit?
Doing a favour for Heather.
Double date. I tried to tell you
at the funeral, but you rode off.
Another fucking Heather.
I'm sorry.
I'm, uh, just feeling
a little superior tonight.
Seven schools in seven states,
and the only thing different
is my locker combination.
Our love is God.
Let's go get a slushie.
I'm not belittling
the foodless fund, Peter.
It's just w-we're talking
teen suicide here.
The number one song
in America today is.
"Teenage Suicide,
Don't Do It" by Big Fun.
Good Jesus, man, Westerburg
finally got one of these things,
and I'm not gonna blow it.
Great. So Heather
gets the front page and
I get crammed in by
the Taco Bell coupon.
Hi, guys. I came to check up
on this week's lunchtime poll topic.
Hey, don't worry about it, Veronica.
Sit down, huh?
Th-that funeral yesterday
must have really been rough, huh?
Oh, yeah, yeah.
W-we were wondering
if you had any poems, artwork
that Heather did that we can put in
the Heather Chandler yearbook spread?
- The what?
- Oh, but, take a look.
It's a two-page layout with her
suicide note right
up here in the corner.
It's more tasteful than it sounds.
I don't know, Dennis. This stuff
leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
Like last night, Veronica?
Excuse me?
I don't get it.
Oh, you did last night.
Kurt told us of your little date.
Yeah, and? I left him drunk,
and flailing in cow shit.
Well, I don't know.
He was really detailed.
Shh.
- Shut up, Courtney.
- No, don't shut up.
I'd like to knoW exactly what I did.
Come on, Veronica.
I'll show you the
lunchtime poll topic.
What the fuck?
OK, I rarely listen to Neanderthals
like Kurt Kelly,
but he said that he and Ram
had a nice little sword fight
in your mouth last night.
You know what I mean, hm?
Eew!
That son of a bitch!
Hi, Kurt?
Hi. This is Veronica Sawyer.
I didn't expect to
be calling, either.
I guess my emotions took over.
I was wondering if
you wanted those
things you've been
saying to really happen.
It's always been a fantasy of mine
to have two guys at once.
Oh, sure,
you can write to Penthouse Forum.
Yeah, in the woods behind the school.
At dawn.
Don't forget Ram.
I don't get the point of me
writing a suicide note
when we're gonna
be shooting them with blanks.
We're not gonna be using
blanks this time.
You can't be serious?
I am.
Listen, my Bonnie and
Clyde days are over.
Wait a second, wait a second.
Do you take German?
French.
All right. These
are Ich Lüge bullets.
My grandfather snared
a shitload of them back in WWII.
They're like tranquillisers,
only they break the skin's surface
enough to cause a little blood,
but no real damage.
So it looks like the person's
been shot and killed,
and really they're just lying there
unconscious and bleeding?
- Oh.
- Right.
See, we shoot Kurt and Ram,
make it look like
they shot each other,
and by the time
they regain consciousness,
they'll be the laughing stock
of the whole school.
Uh, the note's the punch line.
How'd that turn out?
First tell me the similarity
is not incredible.
It's incredible similarity.
Mm.
OK
"Ram and I died
the day we realised
we could never reveal
our forbidden love
"to an uncaring
and un-understanding world.
"The joy we shared in each other's
arms was greater than any touchdown,
"yet, we were
forced to live the lie of
sexist, beer-guzzling,
jock assholes."
That's perfect.
Uh, let's take a look
at some of the homosexual artefacts
I dug up to plant at the scene.
All right.
An issue of Stud Puppy.
It's great!
A candy dish.
A Joan Crawford postcard.
Good.
Some, uh, mascara.
All right, now, here's the
one perfecto thing I picked up.
Mineral water.
Oh, come on, a lot of people
drink mineral water.
It's come a long way.
Yeah, but this is Ohio.
If you don't have
a brewski in your
hand, you might as
well be wearing a dress.
Oh, you're so smart.
Hi, Veronica.
Hi, guys.
Glad you could make it.
So should I just whip it out or...?
Well, I-I-I've made a circle
on each side of the clearing.
Ram, you come over here.
Kurt...
When you get to the circle, strip.
What about you?
I was kinda hoping you could
rip my clothes off me, sport.
Oh... good idea.
OK.
Count of three, guys.
One.
Two.
Three.
You missed him completely?
Yeah, but don't worry.
It was worth it to see the look...
All right, don't move.
I'll, uh, I'll get him back.
- Ha-ha!
- Oh, fuck!
- No.
- Now!
Hey, I heard it that time.
- What?
- Another gunshot from the woods.
Oh, shit. Let's roll!
Kurt doesn't look too good.
Just remember he's left-handed.
Keep going till you hit the clearing.
Come on.
- Mother of shit!
- Call in.
Hey, I heard something out there.
I'm checking it out.
Yeah, this is, uh, Officer McCord.
I've got two dead bodies in the woods
behind Westerburg High.
'Milner, can you hear me?
- 'What's going down?'
- Uh, yeah, yeah.
I think what I heard
was a bunny rabbit.
All I've got here is a couple of kids
making out in a station wagon.
- 'Should I pry them apart?'
- Oh, no. Forget it.
I got all the answers back here.
'Hey...'
Are they naked?
Yeah, so, uh, what's the deal?
Suicide. Double-suicide.
They shot each other.
Hey, that's Kurt Kelly.
Yeah, and the line-backer,
Ram Sweeney.
My God, suicide. Why?
Does this answer your question?
Oh, man. They were fags.
Listen up.
"We realised we could never
reveal our forbidden love"
"to an uncaring
and un-understanding world."
Jesus H. Christ!
The quarterback
buggering the line-backer.
What a waste.
Oh, the humanity.
But...
- Hm.
- So we killed them, didn't we?
Yeah. Of course.
Ich Lüge bullets...
I'm such an idiot!
Look, you believed it
because you wanted to believe it.
Your true feelings were too
gross and icky for you to face.
I did not want them dead!
- You did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- I did not!
- Did, too.
- Did not!
- Did, too!
- Did not! Did not!
Shut up! I did not want them dead!
- Yes, you did.
- I did not!
Young love!
Did you hear school's
cancelled today
because Kurt and
Ram killed themselves
in a repressed
homosexual suicide pact?
No way.
God!
The football season
is over, Veronica.
Kurt and Ram
had nothing to offer the school,
but date rapes and AIDS jokes.
Sure.
Can we make an ice run
before the funeral?
If there's any way
you can hear me, Kurt buddy.
I don't care
that you really were some... pansy.
You're my own flesh and blood,
and you made me proud.
My son's a homosexual and I love him.
I love my dead, gay son.
How do you think he'd react to a son
that had a limp wrist with a pulse?
'Dear Diary,
'my teen angst bullshit
has a body count.
'The most popular people
in school are dead.
'Everybody's sad,
but it's a weird kind of sad.
'Suicide gave Heather depth,
Kurt a soul, Ram a brain.
'I don't know what it's given me but,
'I've got no control over myself
when I'm with JD.
'Are we going to prom or to hell?'
Now, it seems we were
in a similar position on Monday
when I thoughtfully suggested
we get together for an unadulterated
emotional outpouring, but no.
You took this as an opportunity
to play yet another round
of let's laugh at the hippy.
- Pauline, if you want...
- Shut up, Paul.
I've seen a lot of bullshit.
Angel dust, switchblades,
sexually perverse photography
exhibits involving tennis rackets,
but this suicide thing...
guess that's more
on Pauline's wavelength.
Well, we're just
gonna write off today,
and on Friday she can hold
her little love-in or whatever.
Whatever.
Attention!
May I have your attention, please?
This school has been
torn apart by tragedy.
I'm here today to fuse it back again
through togetherness.
I want everyone to clasp hands.
We need to connect this cafeteria
into one mighty circuit!
- Excuse me, please.
- Hey look, here comes the TV crew!
Lock your paws!
- We're ready when you are.
- Hi, there.
Come on. Come on.
Let's go. Up here.
Yes, this will be on TV.
Let's show them how you feel!
Looks like Miss Phlegm's
on another one of her crusades.
With usual success, of course.
Come on, freshmen! Get up!
- Hi. What's your name?
- Hi. I'm Heather Duke.
Is this as good for
you as it is for me?
Those fish sticks can wait. Let's go.
Come on, kids!
The whole World is watching!
Show them that you care!
Greetings and salutations.
I'm gonna need a
VHS copy of all this
by Monday for my
Princeton application.
Uh-huh.
You can beat this.
Don't let suicide get you down.
That thing this afternoon,
I'm so angry.
It was chaos, fucking chaos.
What are you talking about, huh?
I mean, today was great.
Chaos was great.
Chaos is what killed
the dinosaurs, darling.
Face it. Our way is the way.
We scare people
into not being assholes.
Our way is not our way.
Oh, yeah?
Tell that to the judge, all right?
Tell it to Kurt Kelly.
- Oh, God!
- I'm telling it to you!
God, you can be so immature!
Oh! You kids are making
too much damn noise!
We beat the bitches.
Oh, beautiful. The beaver's home.
Judge told them
to slurp shit and die.
I put a Norwegian in the boiler room.
Masterful.
And then When that blew,
it set off a pack of thermals
I stuck upstairs.
Some days it's great to be alive.
Stick it to those goddamn...
Do you like your father?
Never given the matter much thought.
Liked my mother.
Yeah, they said her death
was an accident,
but, uh, she kneW what she was doing.
She walked into the building two
minutes before my
dad blew the place up.
She waved at me and then...
boom.
'Dudes, if I get one more
request for that Big Fun song,
'I'm gonna commit suicide.'
Playing our song.
'Here it is,
"Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It."'
That's it. We're breaking up.
What? You can't bring them back.
You must know that.
I am not trying to bring anybody
back, except maybe myself.
No!
And to think there was a time
when I actually
thought you were cool!
Man, if you can't
deal with me now
then just stay home
and shoot your TV.
Blow up a couple
toasters or something.
Just don't come to school,
and don't mess with me.
You'll be back.
Me and Martha Dumptruck?
Where did you get this?
Oh, I just had the nicest little chat
with Ms Dumptruck.
Got along famously.
It's kinda scary how everybody's got
a little story to tell.
Uh, wanna see the canoeing shots?
What is this? Blackmail?
I'll give you a Week's lunch money.
I don't want your money.
I want your strength.
Westerburg does not need
mushy togetherness.
It needs a strong leader.
Heather Chandler
was that leader, but...
But she couldn't handle it.
I think you can.
Moby Dick is dunked.
The white whale
drank some bad plankton,
and splashed through a coffee table,
and now it's your
turn to take the helm.
- What about the photographs?
- Oh, don't worry.
I'll ask you to do me a favour,
and it'll be one you'll enjoy.
You'll get the negatives
and everything back then.
But in the meantime, strength.
Here's a little gift.
From Heather to Heather.
- Guess who?
- Heather?
- 'Hello?'
- Hello, Betty? This is Veronica.
I don't believe it! I'm winning!
Don't you start
getting cocky on me now, girl.
I really missed you.
I know I'm not as exciting
as your other friends.
That is bullshit.
Shoot.
Do you know I'm still a virgin?
OK, I... I French kissed
Al Springer once.
It was a total disaster.
Shoot the ball.
You know, Betty,
your daydreams are
a lot better than my
realities, believe me.
But now, prepare to die.
Ronnie!
You're not gonna go
for those two shots.
I mean, uh, go ahead, knock me out.
It's the only way to win.
It's not my style.
Nice guys finish last. I should know.
Bravo.
Brav-o.
Listen, I-I got to get home, OK?
- OK.
- Thanks.
Bye, Betty.
Bye.
Betty, leaving so soon?
I'm red.
'The Westerburg suicides
were tough on all of us,
'but we shared the pain of
losing three very popular students.
'I came into the cafeteria,
asked them to hold hands...'
Isn't that that flake
we met at the open house?
'...burst of cleansing synchronicity,
'TV cameras happened
onto our path and captured...'
Cleansing synchronicity?
'...an emotional
outpouring of emotion.'
Outpouring of emotion?
Ha! Look! There's Heather.
There's Heather.
Where are you, Veronica?
'Before a teenager
decides to kill himself,
'there are certain facts
that he should know.
'After all, this is a decision
that affects all of us,
'and there's only one chance
to get it right.'
'Getting some supervi...'
Turn that back on.
Can't you see these programmes
are eating suicide up with a spoon?
They're making it sound like
a cool thing to do.
Are you trying to
tell me it's not a time
for troubled youth?
Stand up straight.
All we want is to be
treated like human beings,
not to be experimented on
like guinea pigs,
or patronised like bunny rabbits.
I don't patronise bunny rabbits.
Treated like human beings?
Is that what you said,
little "Miss Voice-of-a-Generation"?
Just how do you think
adults act with other adults?
You think it's all just
a game of doubles tennis?
When teenagers complain that they
want to be treated like human beings,
it's usually because they are
being treated like human beings.
Yeah, well, I guess I picked
the wrong time to be a human being.
Well, you'll live.
Want some pâté?
Hi, everybody. Door was open.
Veronica, have you heard?
We were doing Chinese at the
food fair when it
comes over the radio
that Martha Dumptruck
tried to buy the farm.
She belly-flopped in front of
a car wearing a suicide note.
Well, is she dead?
No. That's the punch line.
She's alive and in stable condition.
Just another case of a geek
trying to imitate the popular people
and failing miserably.
Is that pâté?
I said I was sorry.
You were out of control.
I mean, Heather and Kurt were
a shock, but Martha Dumptruck?
Get crucial. She dialled
suicide hotlines in her diapers.
You're not funny.
Look, Martha couldn't take the heat,
so she got out of the kitchen.
Just think what a
better place this world
would be if every
nimrod followed her cue.
Just shut up. "Hot Probs" is on.
Oh, shit. Yeah.
'Skipper's OK, but still sometimes
I feel like-like I'm on that island,
'and-and Gilligan
can be so stupid sometimes.'
Yeah, well, dude,
just remember, you know,
if it wasn't for the courage
of the fearless crew,
the Minnow would be lost
and you are, too.
Next call.
That sounded like a good one.
'Hey, you've got the dog catcher.'
'My name is Heather.
No, i-it's not Heather.'
'No, it...'
It's Madonna.
Jeez. No, not that.
'Hey, babe.'
I need a name.
My name is Tweety.
'Tweety? Ooh, tweet!'
God has cursed me, I think.
The last guy I had sex with
killed himself the next day.
I'm failing math.
My whole life is a mess.
I was supposed to be captain
of the cheerleading team.
Man, she knows We
listen to this show.
Holy shit! We'll crucify her!
'But my parents are
divorced and stuff.'
'Heather told everyone about Heather.
'Yes, dear Diary,
I've cut off Heather Chandler's head,
'and Heather Duke's head
has sprouted back in its place
'like some mythological thing
'my eighth-grade boyfriend
would have known about.
'Heather's even doing
the old note trick.'
'I've seen JD's way.
'I've seen Miss
Pauline Fleming's way,
'and nothing has changed.
'I guess that's Heather's way.
'And, Jesus, what about JD?
'I can't get him out of my head.
'Wait. Where's Heather going?'
Where's Heather going?
She's going to cry.
Fucking child protector caps.
Now where is she going?
Heather!
What are you trying to do? Kill me?
What are you trying to do? Sleep?
Suicide is a private thing.
Heather, you're
throwing your life away
to become a statistic
in the "US-fucking-A Today".
Now that is the least private thing
I can think of.
What about Heather and Kurt and Ram?
If everyone jumped off a bridge,
would you?
Probably.
Hey now, if you were happy
every day of your life,
you wouldn't be a human being,
you'd be a game-show host.
What do you say
we knock off early,
buy some shoes,
something lame like that?
OK.
So it's, uh, come to this.
Heather Chandler did polls.
I want you to do a petition,
as a favour,
as the favour.
You've, uh, heard
of the group Big Fun, right?
That's right.
"Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It".
All right. Some teenybopper rag says
that, uh, they want to play a prom.
Now, it could be Westerburg's
if we get everybody's John Hancock.
I'll get right on it, coach.
Oh, little gift for you.
I won't be needing it.
Heather?
Veronica.
Colour me stoked, girl.
I've gotten everyone
to sign this petition,
even the ones who think Big Fun
are tuneless Eurofags.
People love me.
You know, you haven't signed, yet.
People love you but I know you.
Jennifer Forbes
told me the petition she signed
was to put a hot tub in the
cafeteria, and Doug Hilton said...
Some people need different kinds
of convincing than others.
Look, just sign the petition, OK?
Don't talk to me like that, OK?
Look, it was JD's idea.
He made out the
signature sheet and
everything so why
don't you just sign it?
No.
Jealous much?
Heather, why can't
you just be a friend?
Why are you such a megabitch?
Because I can be.
Veronica, why are
you pulling my dick?
Do you think, I mean,
do you really think,
if Betty Finn's fairy godmother
made her cool,
she would still hang out
with her dweebette friends?
No way, Veronica.
Uh-uh.
Wanna go out tonight?
Catch a movie? Some miniature golf?
I was thinking
more along the lines
of slitting Heather
Duke's wrists open,
making it look like a suicide.
Ah! Now you're talking.
I could be up for that.
I've already started underlining
meaningful passages
in her copy of "Moby Dick",
if you know what I mean.
I knew you'd be back, Veronica.
I knew it. I was positive, sure.
It's over, JD. Over. Grow up!
I don't get it.
I mean, you were wrong. I was right!
Strength, damn it!
Come on. Come back!
Yes?
Y-your friend Jason Dean stopped by.
He seemed very concerned about you.
He said that he thought
you might try to kill yourself.
You have been depressed lately.
Oh, he left this for you.
Oh, my God.
He said that we should
keep you away from sharp objects,
uh, closed garage doors,
chemical, uh, substances.
- Prescription drugs.
- Prescription drugs.
"To neither love
nor reverence wilt thou be kind."
"And even for hate
thou canst but kill,"
"and all are killed."
I like it.
It's got that "what a cruel world
so let's toss ourselves in the abyss"
type of ambiance, huh?
Come on.
It's Heather's copy of "Moby Dick".
Why don't you give it a try, huh?
Underline something.
Get off of my bed,
you fucking psycho!
You think you're a rebel?
Do you actually think you're a rebel?
You're not a rebel.
You're fucking psychotic!
You say "tom-ay-to",
I say "tom-ah-to".
Hold it.
Eskimo. Look at that.
That's one word.
I love it! I usually go
for the whole sentence myself.
But this is perfecto.
Eskimo, you know, it's so,
uh, mysterious.
Es-ki-mo.
Come on.
JD, you are not even listening to me!
Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag!
T-t-that knife is filthy!
What do you think I'm gonna
do with it? Take out her tonsils?
Excuse me, I think I know Heather
a little better than you do.
If she was gonna slit her wrists,
the knife would be spotless.
All right, how's this? Can you see
your fucking reflection in the thing?
Tomorrow someone else
is just gonna move into her place.
That person could be me.
Ha! There's only one of us who
knows how to do
Heather's handwriting.
And if you think I'm gonna write
another suicide note, you're wrong!
You don't get it, do you?
But society nods its head
at any horror the American teenager
can think to bring upon itself!
Uh-uh... Nobody's gonna care about
exact handwriting. Help me. Quick.
Look.
"Life sucks."
It's perfecto.
Jesus, I've got
a meaningfully marked-up "Moby Dick".
What else does a suicide need, huh?
Now, if you'll excuse me.
No!
Open the door!
Eskimo.
Heather Duke underlined a lot of
things in this copy of "Moby Dick",
but I believe the word "Eskimo",
underlined all by itself,
is the key
to understanding Heather's pain.
On the surface, Heather Duke
was the vivacious young lady
we all knew her to be,
but her soul Was in Antarctica,
freezing with the knowledge
of the way fellow
teenagers can be cruel.
The way that parents
can be unresponsive.
And as she writes so eloquently
in her suicide note,
the way that life can suck!
We'll all miss
Sherwood's little Eskimo.
Let's just hope
she's rubbing noses with Jesus.
Is this turnout weak or what?
I had at least 70 more people
at my funeral.
Heather?
God, Veronica.
My afterlife is so boring.
If I have to sing
"Kumbaya" one more time...
What are you doing here?
I made your favourite.
Spaghetti.
Lots of oregano.
Dinner!
Veronica! Dinner!
'Dear Diary, last entry.
'No one can stop JD,
'not the FBI, the CIA or the PTA.
'He once told me that the extreme
always makes an impression.
'Well, noW it's my turn.
'Let's see how the
son of a bitch reacts
to a suicide he didn't
perform himself.'
I can't believe you did it.
I was teasing.
I loved you.
Sure, I Was... I was
coming up here to kill ya.
First, I was gonna try and get
you back with my amazing petition.
It's a shame you can't see what
our, uh, fellow
students really signed.
All right, listen.
"We students
of Westerburg High will die."
"Today, our burning bodies
will be the ultimate protest"
"to a society that degrades us."
"Fuck you all."
It's not very subtle,
but, uh, neither's blowing up
a whole school, now, is it?
Talk about your suicide pacts, huh?
When our school blows up tomorrow,
it's gonna be the kind of thing
to infect a generation!
I mean, it's gonna be
a Woodstock for the '80s!
Damn it, Veronica.
We could have toasted
some marshmallows together.
What does she want?
A written invitation?
Veronica! Dinner!
Sheesh.
Veronica, I...
Oh, I... I-I-I s-s-should have
let you take that job at the mall.
It was... it was just
that I was afraid of
you coming home
late at night and I...
Hey, mom, why so tense?
Hey, Pop,
I need some help with my homework.
Uh, not right now, tiger.
I'm a little busy.
Veronica!
JD told me
you committed suicide last night.
Where is he? Where's JD?
We have to talk.
Whether to kill yourself or not
is one of the most important
decisions a teenager can make.
Get a job.
Rodney, where's everybody going?
It's Friday.
Shit, another damn pep assembly.
Yeah, you know, these things,
they get pretty artificial,
but, you know,
at least you get out of class.
Rodney, what's underneath the gym?
The boiler room.
May I see your hall pass?
I knew that loose was too noose.
I mean, uh.. Noose too loose.
Goddamn you, woman.
Like father, like son.
A serious-as-fuck bomb
in the boiler room
to set off a pack of
thermals upstairs.
OK, let's start by putting
the bomb down on the ground.
I knew that.
I knew that.
OK, put your hands on your head.
You didn't say, "Simon says".
Let's go, Rottweilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
Let's go, RottWeilers, let's go!
- W-E-S!
- T-E-R!
- T-E-R!
- B-U-R!
B-U-R!
- G!
- G!
What does it spell?
- Westerburg!
- Again!
Westerburg!
Westerburg!
Lean to the left, lean to the right!
Stand up, sit down,
fight, fight, fight!
Stop!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
You think just because
you started this you can end it?
I'll kill, I'll fucking kill you,
I swear to God.
Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
Yeah!
How do I turn off
the goddamn bomb, asshole?
Fuck you!
Shit!
It's all over, JD. Help me stop it.
You wanna clean the slate
as much as I do.
Right, so maybe I am
killing everyone in the school...
because nobody loves me.
Let's face it, all right?
The only place different social types
can genuinely get along
with each other is in heaven.
Which button do I
press to turn it off?
Try the red one, all right?
Seriously, people are going to look
at the ashes of Westerburg and say,
"Now there, it's a school
that self-destructed,"
"not because society didn't care,"
"but because the school was society!"
It's pretty deep, huh?
Which red button?
Press the middle one to turn it off,
if that's what you really want.
You know what I want, babe?
What?
Cool guys like you out of my life.
Colour me impressed.
You, uh...
You really fucked me up
pretty bad, Veronica.
You, um...
You got power.
Power I didn't think you had.
The slate is clean.
Pretend I did blow up the school.
All the schools.
Now that you're dead,
what are you gonna do with your life?
Veronica.
- You look like hell.
- Yeah?
I just got back.
Veronica, what are you doing?
Heather, my love,
there's a new sheriff in town.
Hey, Martha!
My date for the prom
kinda flaked out on me.
If you weren't doing
anything that night,
maybe we could rent
some new releases.
Pop some popcorn.
I'd like that.
Yeah. So would I.