boiler room
to set off a pack of thermals upstairs.
OK. Lets 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".
-Do you think that just because
you started this thing you can end it?
-I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you,
I swear to God!
How do I turn off the goddamn bomb, asshole?
-Fuck you!
-Shit!
-It's all over JD, help me stop it!
You want a clean slate as much as I do.
Alright, so maybe I am killing everyone in the school,
because nobody loves me!
Lets face it, alright!
The only place where different social types can genuinly
get along with each other is in heaven.
-Which button do I press to turn it off?
-Try the red one, alright?
Seriously, people are gonna look
at the ashes of Westerburg, and say:
There is a school the self destructed
not because society didn't care,
but because the school WAS society.
Pretty deep, eh?
-WHICH red button?
-Press the one in the middle to turn it off...
if that's what you really want.
-Do you know what I'd want, babe?
-What?
-Cool guys like you out of my life.
-I'm impressed.
You... You really fucked me up
pretty bad, Veronica.
You...
You've 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 kind of flaked out on me...
I was wondering, if you aren't doing anything that night,
maybe we could rent some new releases?
Pop some popcorn?
-I'd like that.
-Yeah, so would I.-Damn. It's your turn Heather.
-No Heather, it's Heather's turn.
Heather.
-Sorry Heather.
-Dear Diary.
Heather told me she teaches people real life.
She said, "Real life sucks losers dry.
If you want to 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 caf, pronto.
Back me up, Heather.
-Yeah, she really wants to talk to you.
-Okay, I'm going. Jesus Christ.
-Hello Heather.
-Veronica, finally.
I've got a note of Kurt Kelly's.
I need you to forge a hot and horny,
yet realistically low-key note in Kurt's handwriting
and slip it onto Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray.
-Shit Heather, I don't have anything against Martha Dunstock.
-You don't have anything for her either.
Come on, it'll be very.
The note'll give her shower nozzle
masturbation material for weeks.
-I'll think about it.
-Don't think.
-Veronica needs something to write on
- Heather, bend over.
Dear Martha, you're so sweet...
-I'm telling you man, it would be so 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 start spinnin her around like a goddamn pinwheel...
-Punch it in!
-Westerburg feeds the world.
Come on people, let's give that left-over lunch money
to people who don't have lunches.
Those tater-tots you throw away...
-God, aren't they fed yet?
-Come on, let's go.
-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, so what's the question, Heather?
-Goddamn Heather. 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.
-Hey, I'm really sorry I couldn't make