Up the Academy (1980) - full transcript

This puber-comedy is a kind of mixture between "Animal House" and "Police Academy". Four boys are sent, for different reasons, to the Sheldon R. Wienberg Military Academy. The life of discipline asks a lot of the four geeks. Of course these boys know how to make a party out of the hard times. Will they be "real men" after one year?

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You know what you are, Chooch?

You're a little fart.

I bend over backwards
to teach you the business...

...so that we can be known
as "Bombalazzi and son."

You know, that could be you.

What am I doing this for?
For my health?

You'd think I suggested you get involved
in murder or drugs or robbery.

What are we talking about here?
Gambling and whores.

They're victimless crimes.

Ain't you got no respect for the family?

You don't wanna listen.
You don't wanna learn.



Well, now, you're gonna learn
to listen and learn.

Mark. Kevin.

Chooch is going to the airport.
Make sure he gets there okay, all right?

God be with you, Eisenhower MacArthur.

Say goodbye to your stepmother.

Where'd you stash the grass?

It's in your diaphragm case.

We wouldn't wanna see you
miss your plane, son.

I'll miss you, Eisenhower.

God will comfort you
in my son's absence, Nubia.

But not in the same way your son does.

The Lord will look after him,
precious lady.

And when Eisenhower returns
to the fold...

...perhaps he'll be a stronger person,
closer to the Holy Spirit...



...instead of just a jive-ass nigger.

It just seems to me
that the son of the mayor...

...of one of the most respectable towns
in Michigan...

...should at least know the meaning
of the word "rubber."

Especially in an election year.

Candy and I love each other, Dad.
We wanna do the right thing.

Don't worry, son. You will.

You will.

Oliver!

I'm not gonna lie to you men
and tell you it's gonna be easy.

Nobody's gonna roll over
for you out there.

The Krauts didn't roll over for us when
we stormed the beaches at Normandy...

...but we still kicked their asses.

And you know why we beat
those bastards?

Because we were there.

And we were there
because we were ready.

And we were ready
because we were trained.

And any son of a bitch who thinks
he can do a job without training...

...is a son of a bitch I don't want in
the trenches with me. He'll get me killed.

And he's gonna get my men killed.

I know most of you are scared shitless,
and you have a right to be.

They don't call me
"Old Blood and Vinegar" for nothing.

That's right.

And if you don't wanna be a man,
if you don't wanna cut the mustard...

...crawl out of here right now
with your tail between your legs...

...because we don't want you!

Or you. Or you.

Thank you, Commandant Causeway,
for that inspiring opening message.

Oh, sir.

- Where's the pool?
- Yeah, smells like jock straps in here.

- What a dump.
- You mean there's no color TV?

All right, you barracks rats...

...shape up and get your gear stored,
and he'll be right in.

Who will be right in?

Liceman.

- Who's Liceman?
- Who cares.

My name's Oliver Holt.
I'm from Michigan.

That's not my fault.

- Eisenhower MacArthur.
- Is that a history lesson or a name?

- Is your father in the Army?
- No, he's a sadist.

Why else would he give me this name?

- Just call me lke.
- Hash.

- No, thanks. Maybe after dinner.
- No. My name is Hash.

It's easier to say
than El Hashid Amier, Jr.

It's easy to smoke too.

Don't you think so?

I'm taking this top bunk.
Anybody got any objections?

- Sorry, I didn't catch your name.
- I didn't throw it.

Hold on a second. Since there
are only three top bunks...

...let's draw straws,
make it democratic.

- Draw this.
- Hey, watch it.

Take it easy. If we're gonna be living
together, we have got to try and get along.

Let me tell you guys something.
We're not living together.

I'm by myself. I don't wanna be here.
I wanna do my work...

...mind my own business and get out
of here when my time is up. All right?

Here he comes!

Liceman's coming!

Ten, hut!

Welcome, gentlemen.
My name is Major Vaughn Liceman.

And I'd like us all to be friends.

Weinberg can be a very lonely place
if you don't have friends.

I know.

I was 7 years old when I first came
to the academy.

I didn't have any friends.

Nobody liked me.

- Whose bunk is this, now?
- Mine.

- Don't you mean, "mine, sir"?
- Yes, sir.

- Say it again.
- Mine, sir.

- Say it again.
- Mine, sir.

- Say it again!
- Mine, sir.

But as the years rolled by,
I learned how to get along with people...

...by doing what was asked of me.

By living up to the code
of the academy...

...and by putting my trust
in my superiors.

And pretty soon, everybody liked me.

Now, suffice it to say, the saddest day
of my life was the day I graduated.

And I was never really happy again
until I returned here...

...to assume my duties
as assistant to the commandant.

Oh, yeah.

I forgot. I did have a few brief moments
of satisfaction in Vietnam...

...where I was fortunate enough to serve
my country to the fullest extent at My Lai.

But, by and large,
Weinberg is where I belong...

...and in a sense,
Weinberg belongs to me.

- Something wrong with you, boy?
- No. It's just a little chilly in here.

- Don't you mean, "It's chilly in here, sir"?
- Yes, sir.

Well, say it!

- It's chilly in here, sir.
- Say it again.

- It's chilly in here, sir.
- Say it again!

- It's chilly in here, sir.
- That's what I thought.

Anyway, gentlemen, I think this semester
can be a pleasant experience for all of us...

...if you just obey the rules.

Because if you don't,
I'm gonna find out about it.

And then I won't be able
to be your friend anymore.

Because whatever you do...

...wherever you go...

...whatever you're thinking...

...l'll be watching you...

...looking out for your better interests.

Because, after all...

...that's what friends are for.

Now, you take these candlesticks here,
for instance.

I do not think they belong in there.
Now, do they, Punjab?

- They were a gift from my uncle, sir.
- Pick them up.

- Yes, sir.
- I catch you stealing, I'll rip your balls off.

- Fair enough, sir.
- Say it again.

- Fair enough, sir.
- Say it again.

Fair enough, sir.

Gentlemen, it's getting late.

Once again, welcome to Weinberg.

Get a good night's sleep tonight.

Pleasant dreams.

Doing the best I can, Sergeant Patty.

He didn't mean it when he said
he wanted to be friends.

No shit.

Dear Candy, I've thought of you
every minute since I got here...

... but this is the first chance I've had
to write. This place sucks.

Orientation week is over
and tomorrow we start classes.

My dad says if I see you again
or do anything to screw up his election...

... I don't get the new car for my birthday
and II never get to go home.

So if we want to see each other again,
we have to be careful.

I miss you so much and want to see you
very badly. Love, Oliver.

P.S. I think I can get rubbers.

I wrote to Candy over a week ago.
Why hasn't she written me back?

She probably has,
but you gotta be patient.

It takes a long time for a letter
to be delivered to hell.

Holt!

Not "halt!" Holt!

Holt, halt!

This letter arrived for you
a couple three days ago.

I just got around to opening it.

- You opened my mail?
- You opened my mail, sir!

Yes, sir. That's what I meant, sir.
Thank you for correcting me, sir.

- It's from your girlfriend.
- Thank you again, sir.

- Now, just don't try it.
- Don't try what, sir?

- Leaving to see her.
- I couldn't do that, sir.

- She's halfway across the country.
- No, she's not.

Your girlfriend has been enrolled...

...at a girls' military school in the area,
the Mildred S. Butch Academy.

- That's not far from here, sir.
- But it's off limits to you, boy.

- Yes, sir.
- You just remember that.

- I will, sir.
- Now, sir, have I not been your friend?

- You're my friend, sir.
- Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir.
- Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir.
- Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir.
- Good enough. Now...

...the rest of the letter is
just a bunch of lovey-dovey bullshit.

I'll tell her to stop that, sir.

It doesn't matter to me, boy.
It's your mail.

All right, gentlemen, moving right along.

In this course, you'll become familiar...

...with a number of basic field weapons,
such as the one I'm holding.

The M-1 recoilless semi-automatic rifle...

...used by the U.S. Army infantry.

We'll become familiar
with the hand grenade.

Metal, rounded incendiary device...

...which, when properly activated,
will cause a small explosion.

And, of course, the 135 mm mortar.

This hard, cylindrical,
blunt-ended artillery shell.

Smooth to the touch,
but highly explosive...

...when shoved into the chamber
and fired.

Any questions?

So I say right now, for all of you out there
within the sound of my voice...

... get back, devil! Beat it, Beelzebub!
So long, Satan!

We've had enough!

Look out for the grandeur
and the glory of God...

...because it's coming into your life!

Records and tapes available
on MacArthur Records...

... for only $ 7.98
at your local record shop.

That's really your dad, huh?

That's my pop, the faith healer.

Can he really perform miracles?

Well, he got us to Beverly Hills,
and that's a miracle.

I'm trying to do my homework.
Do you mind?

- That's lke's father.
- Hey, it's okay.

- What are you trying to find on that map?
- The Mildred S. Butch Academy.

- My girl's there.
- Don't try it. Liceman will catch you.

Only if you tell him.

- Shorts collection!
- Beg your pardon, sir?

I was on my way to the laundry.

Why don't you slip out of
your little undershorts? Okay?

Thanks anyway, sir, but we're gonna do
our laundry tomorrow.

See you in ballroom dance class.

Dear Reverend Pop,
caught your act on the radio today.

I hope the record salles are good.

Oh, I also met your friend, the devil.
His name is Liceman.

And you're right. He is white.

I'm sorry about your divorce...

... but I'm looking forward
to meeting my new stepmother.

I hope she's as friendly as Nubia.

Today I auditioned for the soccer team.

You should've seen me.
Even the coach was astounded.

He even said I was a credit to my race.

You're a disgrace to niggers
the world over!

He also said that I'm in a class
by myself...

... and shouldn't even be
on the same field with the others.

Get on the bench and write yourself a letter!
It's the only one you'll get from here!

- Yes, sir.
- Move it!

Well, see you on Parents' Day.
Your son, Eisenhower.

Shit! And for this, I gave up being white.

In exactly 29 days, at 1400 hours...

...during Parents' Weekend, there will come
the annual Sheldon R. Weinberg...

...memorial faculty-student
soccer game.

I'll be playing for the faculty,
and I'll be playing to win.

And I might add...

...the faculty has never lost.

And I'm sure none of you think
this will be the first time.

Swami! Get over here!

I couldn't tell who did it, sir.
I only know it wasn't me.

Now, you see, that is an untruth.

You've just told your friend an untruth.

Now, perhaps if you didn't have
that filthy rag around your eyes...

...you'd see the truth.
Then you wouldn't lie.

You mean my cope, sir?

You get rid of it. It's not regulation.
You stand out like a turd in a punch bowl.

A thousand pardons, sir, but my religion
forbids me to remove my cope.

- Your religion?
- Yes, sir.

Let me tell you something, child.

As long as you are here,
I am your religion.

And that is my watch.

Now you have not only lied to your friend,
you've stolen from your friend.

I didn't steal it, sir. I took the liberty
of having it repaired. Pay me whenever...

Do you recall what I said I'd do to you
if I ever caught you stealing again?

- Yes, sir.
- What did I say to you?

- You said you'd rip my balls off, sir.
- Say it again!

- You said you'd rip my balls off, sir.
- Say it again!

- You said you'd rip my balls off, sir.
- Get out of here. Take your cope with you.

- Hey, Hash.
- Yes?

How can I get a message to Candy
without Liceman seeing it?

Well, deliver it to her personally.

It's 57 miles away. I'll never make it
there and back by bed check.

- Well, take my auto.
- You have a car?

I have many autos. But only one nearby.

- That's against the rules.
- Speaking of rules...

- Holt, dismiss yourself.
- Yes, sir.

Later, Hash.

Cadet, resume your duties.

Hash.

That's what your friends call you,
now, isn't it? Hash?

- Yes, sir.
- Well, I'm your friend, am I not?

Yes, sir.

- May I call you "Hash"?
- May I call you "Lice," Major Vaughn?

I'd like to know what your roommates
are up to from time to time...

...so I might head off any crises
that might present themselves.

See, that way you and I
could work together...

...and really learn how to be friends.

Instead of spending all your time cleaning,
you might even get some special privileges.

That way, we'd all be happier.

Do we have a pact?

Maybe Chooch could cover for us
if we're not back in time.

I ain't covering. You guys go over
the wall, you take your own chances.

- Leave me out.
- You sure you won't join us?

Why, are you falling apart?

Gentlemen, I am a new student.

The admissions office told me
to report here.

- What can I do for you, Handleman?
- The name's not Handleman.

It's Ververgaert, Rodney.

Handleman's the school
I was just kicked out of.

Do you have an extra bunk?

- Over there.
- Okay.

Happy birthday, Chooch.

- Do you mind if I take this one?
- Yeah, I do.

- Well, then how about this one?
- Free country.

You don't wet your bed, do you?

No, I generally just piss over the side.

- I wet my bed sometimes.
- You're putting me on.

Aren't you a little old
to be wetting your bed?

I can't help it. I'm emotionally disturbed.

This is the ninth prep school I've been to
in three years. Well, 34 months.

Not counting summer school.
I was at Lawrenceville before... -

They don't kick you out
for wetting your bed.

But they do kick you out for arson.

I like you, Handleman.

Ververgaert, Rodney. The Gas Man.

- I'm El Hashid Amier, Jr.
- Don't worry. You'll get over it.

- Oliver Holt.
- Rodney Ververgaert.

Eisenhower MacArthur.

Slap my hand, black soul man.

- How do you guys like it here?
- It sucks.

Okay, I can accept that.

Hey, Rodney, how do you like the food?

Same as Handleman, except
the shit on a shingle's a little more tart.

- Hey, lke, about tonight...
- Shut up.

- What's tonight?
- Nothing. Tonight's nothing.

Hey, Ververgaert's okay.

What's going down here? You guys
are going over the wall, aren't you?

- Shut up.
- Well, I wanna go too.

Who are you?

Rodney Ververgaert, sir.

Ververgaert?

With a V? Oh, yeah.

I have your dossier right here.
Checked in last night.

Oh, yeah.

You're the firebug from Handleman.

- They never proved that, sir.
- Why aren't you wearing regulation glasses?

They melted down. My nightstand
burst into flames one night...

Those seal-beams you're wearing make you
stand out like a turd in a punch bowl.

- You will acquire new ones.
- I will.

"I will" what, zit face?

- I will, sir.
- You get up now, boy.

I said, get up!

Okay, kid...
Put your goddamn hand down.

If you can't see me, you will hear me.
I'll give you the short version.

Wherever you go, whatever you do
or think, I'll be watching you.

You'll get the rest later.

- God, I hate him.
- He's not my kind of strange.

- You still wanna go over the wall with us?
- Damn right. When do we leave?

Right after taps.

Not that it means anything to me,
but you guys are gonna get caught.

Mark my words.

Dear Dad:

Received your mail, and I'm hurt
to hear that you and my friend, Liceman...

... would believe that I would conceive of
going over the wall to see that girl, Candy.

The last thing I would do is take a chance
of disgracing you before the election.

And you are definitely right
about Candy and me.

We're too young, stupid, ignorant,
immature and careless to see each other.

And yes, the Jaguar or the Corvette
would be just fine.

Your son, Oliver.

I don't remember this barbed wire
in the brochures.

No problem. I'll take care of it.

Now, according to my information,
the auto is in that garage.

- How did you find a garage?
- It came with the house.

- You own this place?
- Well, technically, it's still in escrow.

Not bad.

Jesus, Hash. You're doing 90!

What do you want from me?
I'm not even old enough to drive.

- How much further to the Butch Academy?
- Give me the map, Oliver.

Looks like it's about 10 miles.

Hey, what's the matter?

- Oh, no. We're out of gas.
- Put it in neutral and coast.

How can an Arab run out of gas?

May we have some service, please?

Self-serve, asshole.

Let me get it.

I gotta go drain the monster.

Hurry up, Hash.
We don't have much time.

Can I borrow the key, please?

Don't need a key
to go in the woods, boy.

Thank you very much. I'm finished.

Oh, forget about the windows.
We are in a hurry.

Thirty-five eighty.
Exact change or credit card.

No problem.

"Bank of Arabia"?
What in the hell is this?

Well, it's a credit card.
I don't leave home without it.

We don't take no Bank of Arabia.
Thirty-five eighty, cash.

- Good luck.
- Wait, we forgot lke!

I always wondered what they looked like
without their sheets on.

Watch the road!

There's Butch!

We'll pick you up
in exactly 10 minutes!

Hup two, hup four! Hup two, hup four!
Hup two, hup four!

Shape up, Shapiro! Get your ass moving!
Hey, mac, keep that piece up!

Hup two, hup four, hup two, hup four!

What the hell are you doing?

Can you tell me where I can find Candy?

Try the vending machine in the lobby.

Now beat it, before I come down there
and kick the shit out of you.

Yes, ma'am.

- Oliver?
- Candy, is that you?

What are you doing here?

- I've got to see you. Lower a rope.
- I don't have a rope.

- I'm climbing up.
- Wait. I'll brush my hair.

Oliver!

Where's your roommate?

Forced march.
She won't be back till later.

What do you hear from home?

The polls show your father
is leading by 15 percent.

That's great.

They say it's his strong
anti-abortion stand.

- And how are your folks?
- They're better now.

They had a fire in the supermarket.

That's awful.

Yeah. My uncle was trapped
in the meat department.

Which one?

Harold.

How is he?

Medium-well.

- Wait a minute.
- What is it?

Aren't you forgetting something?

Oh, yeah. They're in my wallet.

Oh, good. Where's your wallet?

My God! It's in the car.

Oh, Oliver.

Oh, Oliver. Oh, Oliver. Oh, Oliver!

There goes my father's election.

They're picking me up in one minute.

- Halt! Who goes there?
- It's a sperm-chucker. Let's get him!

I better go this way. I love you.

I love you.

God, did I have a day.

I worked my nuts off
and I'm one tired soldier.

There he is. Quick! Get him, Killer.

That's the guy who was looking
for the candy machine.

I hope he's a diabetic.

Come on, let's go!

Follow that little sucker!

Hurry up.

Go ahead, Oliver. What happened next?

Did you take her clothes off
or did she?

- I did.
- Goddamn!

And then what? Did you do it on the bed
or on the floor?

Come on, Ververgaert, lay off.

I mean, you act like you never made it
with a girl before.

Hey, I've had my share of quail.

Listen to this guy.
He couldn't get laid in a whorehouse.

Don't be silly.
Anybody can get laid in a whorehouse.

You see? Fifteen minutes to bed check.
No sweat.

Oh, no.

Don't you mean, "Oh, no, sir"?

I told you early on...

...there's nothing you can do around here
that I will not find out about.

No, sir. You went ahead
and you blatantly broke the rules.

Let me ask you something.

Don't you know why
you were sent here in the first place?

Because you're outcasts.

Embarrassments to your families
and your communities.

Disgraces.

Nobody gives a shit about you.

Except me.

And this is the thanks I get?

Now, Cadet Holt...

...what do you think your daddy would do
if he found out you went AWOL...

...to see your girlfriend?

Could you turn the heat up in here, sir?

Would you like me to call your daddy
right now and tell him what you did?

- Why would he believe you?
- Yeah, I could deny it.

Not if I showed him these.

Where did you get those?

"Where did you get those, sir."

Where did you get those, sir?

I don't have to answer your questions.

How would I go about
getting them back, sir?

Perhaps if I purchased the photos
for, say, 7000...

Let me tell you something.

In all of your military life,
never, ever try to bribe an officer.

Yes, sir.

Now, Cadet Holt, what do you think
would happen to your daddy's election...

...if these pictures made the front page
of your hometown paper?

What do you want for the pictures, sir?

I have already told you
what I want for these pictures.

I want you to do for me...

...what friends do for other friends.

Like, shine my boots.
If you have the time.

If you happen to know any women...

...why don't you send them on over.

Like that hot little bitch of yours, Holt.

From what I heard coming
out of that window...

...she'll do just about anything.

Tell her to do it for me.

Gentlemen, you are dismissed.

How are we gonna get
those pictures back?

I want my new car and I sure don't want
my dad to lose the election because of me.

We couldn't steal them.
That would be wrong.

Would it be wrong to set fire to them?

You know what I can't figure out?

That son of a bitch knew
when we were going.

He even knew where the garage was.

He knows everything.

I'll bet he doesn't know who played
first base for the 1950 Philadelphia Phillies.

Eddie Waitkus.

- Ververgaert, we figured it out.
- Wedge the butt tightly...

...against the meaty muscle
of your right shoulder.

- Ververgaert, I'm talking to you.
- Then, place your index finger...

- Chooch is the stoolie.
...gently, almost caressingly...

...on the trigger mechanism.

And slowly squeeze.

Squeeze.

- Ververgaert, are you listening to me?
- Squeeze the trigger.

Could you keep it down, lke?
Some of us are trying to come.

Feel the beat, that's right.

Light as feathers.

Be a puff of smoke blowing
across the moors. And, one...

Everything's set to steal the pictures
from Liceman tomorrow?

Yeah. Hash is gonna fake an injury
during soccer practice.

Then, while you guys carry Hash
to the infirmary, Ververgaert and l...

Get off my foot, will you, lard-ass?

That's not the thing to do
on the dance floor. One, two.

We better figure out a way
to throw Chooch off the track.

You know something, Hash?

Good old Weinberg
ain't such a bad place.

And you know who else
isn't such a bad guy, is Liceman.

I agree. The man is only
looking after our best interests.

You're absolutely right.

I'll bet he took those pictures
to teach me a valuable lesson.

And I've learned it.

I'm not even gonna try to get them back.

Why don't you take a hike, will you?

Chooch is right.
We don't wanna break curfew.

When I get home this summer...

...l'm gonna tell every kid I know
to apply to Weinberg.

Me too.

I am so content here that I have not
wet my bed in four nights.

Let's go to bed.

Master Sergeant Sisson,
you frightened me.

Don't be silly. I'm just tucking you in.

There. Isn't that more comfy?

You're late, dirtball.

Sorry. I had to wait
for the guys to fall asleep.

- What's the password?
- Uncle Vaughn, you are the one.

All right, boy. What are they up to?

Okay. Tomorrow
during soccer practice...

Go ahead.

Tomorrow during soccer practice...

...Hash, you know, the Arab guy?
- Will you go ahead?

He's gonna fake getting hurt.

The other guys will pretend
to carry him to the infirmary...

...but they're really gonna go back
to your bungalow...

...and try to jimmy open
the safe in your desk.

Good. I'll be waiting for them.

Will that be all...?

What about Holt's girlfriend?

You thought of any way
to get her for me yet?

Hold it.

Don't you move.

All right. What's the password?

Talk, you heinie Kraut!
I had my eye on you a long time, boy.

Password. Last chance to see.

Say it again! Say it again!

Say it again!

Mess with me, boy.

Nice move, sir.

I gave him every chance to talk,
did I not?

Every chance in the world, sir.

All right. Rodney, let's move out.

Does anybody know what we're eating?

Pig balls.

Pig balls?

How can you eat, man?

We got soccer practice in 20 minutes.

I happen to dig pig balls.

Where you going?

I feel a song coming on.

Don't forget, Ververgaert and I need
at least five minutes in Liceman's house.

- So remember...
- Here's the squealer.

- Wait a minute.
- We got soccer practice.

Just sit down. Come on, Oliver.
This is serious.

I don't care what you guys
think of me...

...but I don't like being blamed
for something I didn't do.

Fine. May we leave now?

Shut up and listen.

What are those friends of yours up to?

Tomorrow during soccer practice,
Hash, you know, the Arab guy?

Will you go on?

He's gonna pretend getting hurt.

And the other guys are gonna pretend
to carry him to the infirmary.

Sorry, Chooch.
We really thought it was you.

Yeah, man. We didn't know.

Yes, and we had better call off
the plan for soccer practice.

Right. If you ever wanna get
those pictures back...

...better make sure Ververgaert
doesn't know how you're gonna do it.

You got any ideas, Chooch?

What does Liceman want
more than anything else?

My balls.

My soul.

- My ass.
- Your girl.

You got it. Now, Liceman wouldn't
recognize her if he saw her, would he?

- No.
- Okay, here's what you gotta do.

Butch Academy is coming over here
for the big dance.

Hey, pipehead, this is gonna take
a lot of preparation, so pay attention.

You have to make sure Ververgaert
doesn't know what we're we gonna do.

And here's what else I want you to do.

You guys think there will be any
hot-to-trot quail at the dance tonight?

From Butch Academy? Dog meat.

What about Candy?
She's not dog meat, is she?

Oh, didn't I tell you?

She got grounded for shaving her legs.
She won't be here.

Bummer.

Hurry up with Liceman's pants, Amier.

I was supposed to have them
outside his door an hour ago.

Finished.

Boy, what a maggot.

Well, at least he can't tell Liceman about
the new plan to get the pictures back.

I'm not even sure
about the new plan myself.

I'd like to go over it again
before the little weasel gets back.

We've been over it.

Yeah. I know.

Only I'm not sure what you guys do after
I get Liceman to punch me in the face.

No matter. Your lights will be turned out.

I'll save you the last dance.

Well, I might get lucky.

Candy's so much prettier
than the other girls.

She stands out
like a turd in a punch bowl.

Sorry. You know what I mean.

Does Candy know
what she's supposed to do?

She'll be fine. She's a good actress.

She was great as Trench Mouth
in our school health pageant.

Hey, Sergeant Patty!

Thank you, sir.

You're looking pretty hot yourself, kid.
Excuse me?

Okay. If you think
you're gonna need one.

Good luck, kid.

Okay. And now for a real treat.

They're talented, they're terrific
and they're raring to go.

Come on. Let's all give a nice,
warm welcome to The Landmines!

Come on, let's hear it.

I gotta get some air.

Wait. Just make sure you're back...

...to take care of Ververgaert before
the king and queen are announced...

...or we'll be in big trouble.

Good evening, MacArthur.

Good evening, colonel.

Just getting some punch.
Can I bring you some punch?

No, thank you, MacArthur.

- Very good, ma'am.
- But...

...you can hand me that joint.
- What joint?

The one behind your ear.

Oh, that one.

The one I found on the floor...

...and was just about to turn over
to the duty officer.

Yeah, that one.

If you insist.

Thank you, MacArthur.

Oh, my God.

They call this singing?

I gotta get out of here.

Well, folks, aren't they great?

Come on, let's give them a big hand.
Let's really hear it.

You fellas got an album
on sale anywhere?

Okay, we're gonna take a little break here
and you can fill out those ballots...

...for this year's king and queen.

I'd buy the album.

- Hey, Hash.
- Holy sphinx.

Don't ever do that.

Sorry. I'm just really nervous about tonight.
I wish I knew more about the plan.

It's important that none of us know
the whole thing.

At 9:00, you start throwing
punches at Liceman.

The rest will take care of itself.

Okay. Well, what time is it now?

Well, it's 8:15, 8:20. Around there.

Anyway, I'm supposed to get into
a fistfight with you at 9:00.

After that, I'm not too clear how
they'll try to get the pictures back.

I've been watching them for a while,
they're not doing anything suspicious.

I was looking for lke,
who I couldn't find.

Then this zit started to come to a head,
so I decided...

You find out what
those little rodents are doing.

- Now!
- Okay.

While I go find me
a little Southern belle.

- Good evening, soldier.
- Good evening.

Kids sure are adorable, aren't they?

Do you like it when a gentleman
ties you up?

What?

You know, with rope.

Well, I got some parachute cord.

Good evening, ma'am.

Good evening.

- Is this seat taken here?
- No, it's not.

Mind if I sit myself down?

- That's fine.
- Oh, thank you.

Well, it's a lovely dance this year,
isn't it?

- Yes, it is.
- Yes, it is indeed.

Well, here's to Butch and Weinberg.

- Long may they wave.
- I'll drink to that.

Tickle your ass with a feather?

What?

I said...

...it's particularly nasty weather
that we're having.

Oh. Yes, it is, major.

So how about it, then, there?

Like to have your ass
tickled with a feather?

Must be a gym teacher or something.

Oh, my God, there's a turd
in the punch bowl.

Help yourself, sir.

- Where's lke?
- I don't know. We better find him.

They'll announce
the king and queen soon.

Nobody cares about
what I'm trying to teach.

Hey, I love your class. We all do.

Yeah?

Are you learning anything
about weapons?

Sure, I am.

Hi.

It's a nice dance, isn't it?

It's all right. I particularly like
the singing group.

I thought they had
a very fine style of their own.

- Did you find lke?
- I don't know where the hell he is.

I think those other kids are just there
to stare at my body.

Well...

...I wouldn't know about that, ma'am.

I do have a nice body, incidentally.

I'm sure you do, sir.

Well...

...you don't have to take my word for it.
- I don't?

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please.

We're about to crown
the king and queen...

...of the third annual
Weinberg-Butch Ball.

The tension is mounting.

- Well, find him!
- All right.

They're about to announce
the king and queen.

And here to announce the winner...

...is our beloved commandant...

...Commandant Nelson Causeway.

Tickle your ass with a feather?

Maybe later.

Where have you been?

Quick, stop Ververgaert.
He's following us.

Not this time, Ververgaert.

By God, this really brings back memories.

It was at a dance like this
at the officer's club outside of Stuttgart...

...when the Germans launched
that last-ditch, all-out counteroffensive.

We were right in the middle
of a Mexican hat dance...

...when a 200-mm shell whistled in
and blew the whole band to kingdom come.

Fiddle parts flying all over.

A trombone hit my buddy Bucky Duckworth
in the side of the head and killed him.

So enjoy this dance while you can.

You never know when the shit's
gonna hit the fan.

Why are we standing here
listening to this?

What do you mean?

Well, I only have two hours before
I have to be back on the bus to Butch.

Can't we be alone somewhere?

Now, what's this here
king and queen business?

- Here are the nominees, sir.
- Oh, yeah.

- Keck, you're a good man under fire.
- Thank you, sir.

I just have to get my overnight bag.

Oh, allow me, Miss Laura.

- You did say my room?
- Why not?

Well...

The boys are gonna hang Liceman in his
bungalow while you're hanging out here.

- Let me help you, Vaughn.
- Well, thank you, Miss Laura.

My gloves, they're difficult.

Appreciate it.

Oh, it's lovely.

Sort of early military.

Did you decorate it yourself?

- Vaughn. Vaughn.
- Laura. Laura.

- Vaughn. Vaughn.
- Laura. Laura!

I need music!
Put on some nice romantic music.

Music. Music, that's a good idea.
Excuse me?

Where can I slip into something
more comfortable? Bathroom!

- Excuse me?
- Your bathroom?

- Bathroom.
- Yeah.

Bathroom, right. Bathroom.

Follow me, madam.

Oh, baby. That music is so sexy.

Get ready, lover. I'll be right there.

Now, don't start without me, baby.

Keep your motor running, baby.

Go on!

Here I come, ready or not.

Vaughn.

Miss Laura.

- Vaughn?
- Excuse me.

Oh, you look so beautiful. Beautiful.

Vaughn. Vaughn, wait.
No, Vaughn. Not yet!

- Calm down.
- Why not?

Why don't you slip into something
more comfortable too?

I do... I do... I do have fairly nice legs.

- I'll get in my soccer shorts?
- No.

- No, no.
- I really want to be turned on.

Turned on. Turned on.

- I got it! I got it!
- Yeah?

How about some...? Some rope?

No, no, not rope.

- Some parachute cord?
- Oh, no, Vaughn. Vaughn.

Remember what you said?
Maybe later.

Okay, Vaughn. If you don't want
to turn me on...

...l'll have to find somebody else
who will.

Laura. Hold on. Hold on.
I'll do it. I'll do it.

I love you!

Laura, honey?

Don't go away, now, hear? Laura!

Oh, baby. I can hardly wait.

Stop! Deserter! Kill that coward!

Put that down, you schmuck!

Oh, Margaret, I was just gonna wing him.

Oh, baby. It's so sexy.

Sexy?

- I could use an extra-large in the...
- Whip me.

- Say what?
- Whip me, Vaughn. Make me your slave.

You wouldn't mind if I tied you up,
punched you a bit?

- Later, Vaughn.
- Later.

First, I have to be conquered.
Stand over me.

Whip me.

I think I can handle this. Okay!

Laura, get ready for pain!

Uncle Vaughn, I think...

...those guys are up to something.

That's right, sir. And I might add,
you look quite fetching in pink.

- Doesn't he, lke?
- Luscious.

Let me tell you something, now.
Anybody ever sees those pictures of me...

...and your hometown paper
is gonna get those pictures of you.

Now, I want my pictures back,
and I want them now.

You stop playing with my things,
and get out from behind my desk.

This is no way to treat your friends, sir.

That's right.

Friends would settle this
in a sporting manner, sir.

Like how?

Like the winner of the soccer game
gets to keep all of the pictures.

Now, let me understand this
correctly, now.

Whoever wins the soccer game
gets to keep all the pictures?

Say it again, Chooch.

Gentlemen, you drive a hard bargain.

My friends...

...I will see you on the soccer field.

Looking forward to it, sir.

I know it sounds crazy, Candy,
but if our plan works...

...we get our pictures back,
my father wins the election...

...I get my new car, we get each other,
and Liceman gets his.

Once and for all.

So wish us luck at the soccer game
on Parents' Day tomorrow. Love, Oliver.

P.S. How's your roommate's nuts?

Did you see the food they served us?
It was atrocious-looking.

They're probably saving
the good food for the kids.

Good afternoon,
parents and distinguished guests.

Welcome to the event
you've been waiting for.

The student-faculty soccer game...

...is the culmination of Parents' Weekend
here at Weinberg!

And now, to sing our national anthem...

...Master Sergeant Skip Sisson.

And, as an added attraction...

...Master Sergeant Sisson's
rendition of the anthem...

...will feature a rocket demonstration
by one of our own students...

...Cadet El Hashid Amier, Jr.

You just be ready.

I'll kick your pepperoni
all the way back to Sicily, boy.

Quiet, sir. It's the national anthem.

As we reach the middle of the second half,
it's still a scoreless tie...

... in this exciting soccer game!

Ladies and gentlemen, the cadets
and faculty are playing their hearts out...

... in this annual classic today!

And Cadet Bombalazzi scores,
breaking the tie!

And it's now cadets, 1, faculty, nothing!

And with a driving shot
deflected by the head of the goalie...

... Major Liceman scores,
tying the score, 1 to 1.

I've never seen anything like this!
Who would've believed this?

Go! Go! Go!

Dumb honkies.

Okay. Ike's stuff is here,
and I've got the key.

Good. Let's hope we can keep
the score tied.

We've got to. My life depends on it.

Did you see that? They're so rough.

Hey, where's lke? Is he all set?

Okay, now, are you sure
you could get into Liceman's safe?

That key only gets you
into his bungalow.

Don't worry, it's a cinch!
Just make sure you score the winning goal.

He will. Just as long as lke does his job.

Okay, let's go!

Only 16 seconds left in the game,
and the score is still 1 to 1!

Okay, fellas, let's play soccer!

Wait till you see Holt's daddy when he loses
that election. He'll have all your asses.

It ain't over yet, Liceman.
Look at the card section.

What kind of fool you take me for, boy?
Throw that ball!

Oh, baby, it's so sexy.

- Sexy?
- Liceman, you got beautiful legs!

- Say what?
- Whip me, Vaughn.

You boys are gonna pay for this!

This what you do to your friend?
You're gonna die!

Hey, Mayor Holt!

Wait till you see the front page
of your hometown paper tomorrow!

You think you're gonna win
that election? No, sir!

I got pictures that's gonna
destroy you, boy!

- You get the pictures?
- I couldn't crack the safe...

Oh, no! What are we gonna do?

This one's for you, Uncle Vaughn!

Be a puff of smoke...

...blowing across the moors.

Go!

Play it again!

Play it again!

Play it again!