Awkward. (2011–2016): Season 4, Episode 4 - Sophomore Sluts - full transcript

Previously on Awkward...

_

"Have we met?"

"You are cute."

I'm around to talk later
after school.

I'll hit you up later,
but it won't be to talk.

- Oh, hey, Jenna.
- Is Matty here?

I had overslept,
but I didn't remember sleeping.

I had been tossing and turning
all night.

Why had Eva been
at Matty's house?

Were they hooking up?



Was Matty confiding in her
about his life,

and where was my stupid
Palos Hills High hoodie?

I was already late to Tamara's
senior hallway decorating sesh

for Spirit Week,
but I was dispirited.

There was zero pep in my step.

Hey, I'm sorry I'm late.

I know it's not an excuse,

but Eva was
at Matty's house last night.

I mean, I try to be a good
friend, and then he goes out

and replaces me with the
next random girl he can find.

And what's her deal anyway?

I mean, she thinks she's so cool
and knows everything.

It's, like, stop trying to be
friends with everyone.

And why are her legs so long?



She looks
like a freaking alien.

Um, it's Eva.

Tamara's doing a million things,
and she wanted to see

if you could bring her
a large coffee.

Is that Jenna?
And a cronut.

And a cronut.

Sure thing.

Cronut me.

Wow. Looks like Matty's
new friend Eva's here.

Do I hear a bitch pitch
in your voice?

She volunteered
for Senior Spirit Committee.

Yeah, well, I think she
also volunteered

to be his new side piece.

So?
She's an eager beaver.

- Or he's eager for her--
- No, don't.

Enough.

Stop moping over Matty.

The easiest way to get over
getting busy with him

is to get busy doing something
or someone else,

but since you could benefit
from having a lock on your box,

you should concentrate on--

One second.

- Did you get another phone?
- No.

Well, yes,
but this one's Autumn's.

- Wait. Who's Autumn?
- Autumn San Diego--

the online persona I created
to catfish Jake.

Okay, as your friend,
it is my job to tell you

that what you're doing is weird,
stalker-y, and not healthy.

End it.

Chill
with the freak and critique.

Of course I'll end it,
just not now.

I am too busy
to break up again.

- But if you--
- Hold that thought.

I have another one for you.

You should cochair
Spirit Committee with me.

It's a total resume padder,
and I need all hands on deck.

If the seniors don't win
Spirit Week,

I'll jump overboard.

You don't need me.

I'm sure that it'll be
smooth sailing

now that you're in charge.

But I really do need you
to show me

where to put
these, um, rave sticks.

It's a robot arm.

The theme is the future.
Duh!

- The banner is crooked!
- Nice robot penises.

Can you help us, please,
with this?

No. Your presidency,
your problem.

- Matty, can you help?
- Sure.

Oh.

Okay.

Got it?

Okay, catch you later, E.

Hey.

Just about last night,

nothing happened
between me and Matty.

He just wanted to talk.

It's fine, we're not together.

Ugh, the Sophomore Sluts.

The Sophomore Sluts, or the SS,

are the mortal enemies
of senior girls everywhere.

Somehow these girls
had magically morphed

over the summer
from dorky freshmen

to a hoard of cleavage-bearing,
short-shorts-wearing,

giggling Kesha clones
who were only too happy

to hang all over
the senior guys.

What's with
their hair extensions?

They don't match
their whore-drobe.

Is this some kind
of skanky cult thing?

Orange means
they're willing to kiss,

pink-- BJs,

red-- they're willing
to go all the way,

- and silver--
- Back door?

Back door, front door,
basement, and attic.

- Sluts.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Tamara, do not use that term.

There will be no slut-shaming
at this school.

I prefer "slappers" or "slags."

It's British. Mm.

Val, your hair
is very colorful.

Oh, thanks.
You noticed.

It's the hot new trend.
All the cool kids are doing it.

We aren't.

Your point?

Val, I'm not sure
you fully understand

what those extensions
really mean.

Yeah, I do.

They mean that you old ladies
are behind the times.

So go back to your hard candies
and your mothballs,

Dame Judi Denches, because I...

am the future.

What the hell are you doing?

That's Va-Jenna's job,
not the Captain's.

I don't mind.

I like sorting the pom-poms.
They're so colorful and fun.

And sometimes I like to pretend
they're little fluffy dogs.

So I was reading the Bible
last night.

Really?

That's so awesome.

Were you at a hotel
or something?

My dad bought one
when he thought

he was going
to white-collar prison.

Anyway, I read that verse

about how the meek
shall inherit the earth.

Matthew 5:5...

or Matthew high five.

Right, but now I'm not so sure

that cheering
is what Jesus would do.

I mean, shouting
and wearing short skirts

isn't exactly meek, is it?

Well, I never thought of it
like that,

but I always thought Jesus
would be a cheerleader,

and definitely Mary.

That's a really good point.

Reverse you're welcome.

Thanks.

You know, some people
have been saying that the power

of the captaincy has really been
going to your head,

but I don't think that's true.

- People are saying that?
- Don't worry.

They said the same about me
when I was captain,

though "Good Christian Girl"
isn't exactly my brand.

Oh, another fun fact
from the Bible.

Did you know
that "Judas" and "Lissa" have

the same amount of letters?

So weird.

It's time for the first
competition of Spirit Week--

Chubby Bunny.

- You all know the rules.
- I'm afraid I don't.

Is Chubby Bunny
some sort of fat rodent?

No, it's a physical challenge.

You put a marshmallow
in your mouth,

and you say "Chubby Bunny."

The first person
to say "Chubby Bunny" clearly

with the most mallows
in their mouth wins.

- That is rude!
- So piggish.

You're both rude and piggish,
and it's tradition.

Now, can each class rep
please come to the stage?

And, of course,
the senior-class rep

and three-time Chubby Bunny
champ Matty McKibben,

come on up.

Please!

Let me do it this year.

- I'm not allowed sugar at home.
- Go for it, man.

But it's really important
that we win this.

Kyle's gonna kill it.
Look at that intensity.

Ugh, fine.
Get up here, Kyle.

Move.

On your mark, get set, stuff!

Chubby Bunny.

Chubby Bunny.

Chubby Bunny.

It's supposed to melt
in your mouth not in your hand.

I'm a diabetic.

Ugh, freshman, is your brain
even fully formed yet?

- Do you still breast-feed?
- Not since I was eight.

Ew.

Kyle, you're not supposed
to eat them.

Can't stop.

Sugar high.

So high!

The marshmallows are blazed.

My turn.

Mmm.

Chubby Bunny.

Mmm.

Chubby Bunny.

Sophomores win!

Yes! It is
all about Mackenzie.

That girl is a professional.

We're talking star quality.

Matty.

Are you okay?

I'm fine.
Why?

You're not upset about the end
of your Chubby Bunny reign?

Yeah, yeah, I'm really
broken up about it.

Listen...

I know our relationship
has changed, and it's cool.

I just thought
that I would be the person

that you would want to talk to
about stuff,

not someone you barely know.

So you want me to run people
by you before I talk to them?

No, no, no,
that's not what I meant.

Matty, did you see me win?

Yeah, yeah, congratulations.

So Matty had completely
replaced me in his life.

Eva for conversation,

and Mackenzie
was clearly available

for whatever else he needed.

I was rendered obsolete
in less than a day.

We look like idiots.

Oh, we're supposed
to be robots.

I know, but we look like hobos

who pose like statues
for money.

My friend did that
in Central Park,

and he's
in Cirque Du Soleil now.

I love the circus.

Fascinating, Eva.

This looks amazing, seniors.

It's like someone from
1982's idea of the future--

very tron.

It's a compliment...

although I could do
without the space dildos.

- So are we the best hallway?
- Looks like it.

Wait.
Do you hear that?

Oh.

Somebody get these girls
bananas fast!

These little girls lost know
exactly where they're going.

Wow.

This is glorious.

Sophomores win
The Hallway contest.

For the first time
in recorded history,

the seniors
might lose Spirit Week.

Shit just got real.

The Sophomore Sluts had swept

all the Spirit Week
competitions,

so the senior girls,
determined to put those skanks

in their place,
were all on time

for the Powder Puff practice,

except Tamara,
which was so un-Tamara.

Meanwhile, Lissa was teaching
the senior guys cheers,

but Matty and Jake
were also no-shows.

The cheer goes like this--

Knee 'em in the groin!

Gouge 'em in the eye!

Kill 'em, kill 'em, Palos High!

Wow. I never realized
how violent that cheer was.

W-W-J-C--

What Would Jesus Cheer?

Hey.
Are we practicing?

Oh, my God, what happened
to you? You okay?

I was up all night.

"What was your ex like?"

"Controlling"?

"You mean organized?"

_

"Was she at least cute?"

"Okay"?

"Crazy"?

What do you mean "Crazy"?

Where is he?

Why isn't he answering?

Am I crazy?

No, he is.

So do you have anything planned
for practice?

No, but it's okay.

I'll just stay up all night
tonight and learn the plays.

I'll be fine. Fine!

- I'll coach Powder Puff.
- Really?

Give me the clipboard
and the whistle.

Hey, Pounder Muffs,
can we practice already?

Practice is postponed
until tomorrow.

I'm taking over coaching duties,
and I need time to prepare.

You can't coach.

All you know is losing!
The point is to win.

I could teach you some plays
if you want.

I was tutored
by a Yale football player.

I don't need your help.

I'm fine. I just need
to organize my playbook.

And by that, I meant learn
everything there was to know

about football before tomorrow,

because if the Sophomore Sluts
were making a play

for our senior boys,
they were gonna be intercepted.

Mom, we need to talk
about something.

This is a talk
we should have had a while ago.

I agree.

It has to do
with something in the garage.

Yeah.

This is hard.
Where do I start?

Just be honest with me.

After the divorce,
a lot of things changed,

particularly with my finances.

We have to be careful.

So you can imagine
how disappointed I was

to find a dent in your car.

What?

I just can't believe
you kept it from me.

Yeah, if I ever found out
that you or dad

were keeping something from me,
I'd be super upset.

Hey, dad.

Can you teach me
some football plays?

I thought this day
would never come.

So, if you call a blast,
then what?

The running back takes a quick
handoff from the quarterback

and hits the hole
between the guard and tackle.

So proud.

You're really good
at memorizing these plays.

I just really want
to win this game.

And don't get me wrong.

I love your sudden interest
in football,

but why do you need
to win so badly?

Just senior pride.

And there are these
sophomore girls

we're playing against
who are so annoying!

- The Sophomore Sluts?
- Here we go.

How did you guys know that?

Honey, the Sophomore Sluts
have been around

since the beginning of time.

Shameless, disgusting, filthy.

Ally was
an original Sophomore Slut.

Little bitch, before me the
tramp stamp was simply known

as a lower-back tattoo.

"OGSS"--

"Original Sophomore Sluts."

Okay, well, nowadays they wear
colored hair extensions, so...

- Ugh.
- Those nasty little skanks.

- No offense, Ally.
- Oh.

Oh, they were like
sexually aggressive zombies,

and the boys just loved it.

Because guys are assholes.

Oh, yeah, blame it on the guys.

Who else
should we blame, Kevin?

Come on, senior girls
were so stressful

and constantly talking
about their emotions.

Sorry being pregnant brought
out a lot of emotions in me.

Sweetie, I'm all for winning,
but beating the Sophomore Slut--

I mean, girls--

is not gonna keep
your guy friends

from hanging out with them.

They're not bad guys.
They're seniors.

They just want
to have a good time.

- Should we do shots?
- Oh, God.

Hey, man.

Come hang out with us
when you're done with work.

Let's get fro yo.

Sure, let's go now.

I'm, uh--
I'm done with this job.

I don't actually do anything,
and I am constantly cold.

- Don't you want the extra cash?
- No, it's not worth it, man.

I am sick of people
constantly ordering me around.

- You can order me around.
- Let's get out of here.

Whoa.
What are you doing?

While you're on the clock,
your shirt is off.

Well, I'm clocking out
for good.

- I feel ridiculous.
- Ridiculously hot.

Listen to the tiny trollop.

Oh, yeah?
Later.

Let's go, Mackenzie.
Let's get fro yo.

OMG, I love a badass,

especially a badass
with a good ass.

You leave now,
don't you dare come back.

Why are you wearing a toga?
It's Geek Day.

I thought it was Greek Day.

What's up?

I don't want to be
cheer captain.

What? Why?

Because...

Because...

Because...

Because she's coveting
the captaincy,

and a wise and powerful old man
with a beard said that's a sin.

Okay, I don't care
what Santa said.

I need a more concrete excuse,
like an injury.

For example,

what if I were to hit you
on your hand right now

with this tape dispenser?

That would take you out, huh?

Never mind!
I'll be cheer captain!

And that's what I call
a Val teaching moment.

I think I'll reward myself
with a spicy Italian sub.

It was game time.

It didn't matter
if Matty and I were on the outs.

It was the principle of it.

If the Sophomore Sluts
were gonna make a play

for the senior boys,

they were gonna be intercepted
or tackled

or some football thing,
if they ever showed up.

Are we shooting
a beer commercial?

We have no cheerleaders!

The other guys found out Matty
and Jake weren't cheering,

so they bailed.

Sheep.
But I'm here.

I'm always here for you, Jenna.

Let me talk to them.

Hey, no biggie, but do you think
you guys could cheer for us?

Because you're dragging
everyone down

into your
Rebel Without A Cause hole,

and good people
are collateral damage.

But I'm chill.

Really?
'Cause you've got crazy eyes.

Crazy?
I will show you crazy.

Now, get off your lazy asses
and cheering is the least you could do!

Actually,
it's not the least we could do.

Come on.

Let's cheer for the sophomores.

I had never wanted to win
something so badly.

The SS were running

some serious interference
with our lives.

They needed to get sacked.

Go, seniors!

- Let's do this! Whoo!
- Thank you.

Go, seniors!

Ooh!

Come on.
All right, let's huddle.

Hut, hike.

Boy, that's only halftime.

Hey, coach.

I think you're supposed
to give an inspiring speech.

I wasn't feeling inspiring.

I was feeling screwed,
not in a good way.

Okay...

so we are sucking out there,
a lot.

Our own senior boys
are cheering against us,

and no matter how hard we try
to be the mature ones,

they don't appreciate it.

They choose bikinis over robots,
simple over complicated.

And when there is a history
between two people

and things get rough,

it is easiest to fall
into the arms of the closest,

sluttiest option.

As long as those sluts exist,
we're never gonna win.

That was literally the worst
pep talk I have ever heard.

I say we go out there
and kick those sluts' asses.

Are you with me, bitches?

Looks like your guy friends
came over to our side.

It must suck to be old
and undesirable.

I like your hair.
It almost looks real.

Thank you.

Is yours?

- Whoops.
- Oh.

That's when my dad's words
came to me

like a blitz to my brain.

Beating the Sophomore Sluts
in football

wouldn't change anything.

These girls,

no matter how much I hated
their bare midriffs

and hot pants
weren't the problem.

The problem was Matty.

If you don't do it, I will.

Sadie, save yourself!

My first fight, and
I didn't feel like a badass.

I just had a bad taste
in my mouth.

Seniors had lost Spirit Week
to the sophomores

for the first time in,
well, ever.

Then again, maybe the bad taste
was from all the dirt I ate

when Jackie smooshed my face
into the ground.

Hey, thank you for having
my back earlier.

No worries, and I didn't know
you and Matty had dated.

If I had known that, I would have
invited you inside the other day.

It's okay. I'm sorry
for being a jerk to you

just because
Matty's being a jerk to me.

Well, I just hope
we can be friends.

Chicks before dicks...
always.

Whoo!

Hey, hey, hey!

It's time
to ghost ride the whip!

Yes, hotness!

Oh, if anything happens
to your car,

your parents
are gonna kill you.

Oh, lighten up, Rosati.

All right, well,
I'm gonna film it.

Okay, okay, go.

Whoo!

Holy shit.

- Holy fucking shit!
- Holy fucking shit!

Next on Awkward...

Hey, you should stop by
this fund-raiser tonight.

- I'll try to make it.
- Do that.

Your sorority is amaze-tits.

Vodka plus girl talk plus communal
closet equals happy Tamara.

Yes, hot tub.