pretty well.
-Yeah, well... 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 caf 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.
You've seen the commercial, right?
"Bringing every State to a higher state".
-Wait a minute. Jason Dean. Your pop's Big Bud Dean Construction?
Must be rough moving place to place.
-Well everybody's life has got static.
Is your life perfect?
-I'm on my way to a party at Remington University.
No, my life's not perfect. I don't really like my friends.
-I... I don't really like your friends either.
-Well, 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.
Ah, 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.
-Hey 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...
-Come on, now look, I don't feel so good, okay?
-Hey, *let's do on the coats'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 real *kuse*.
-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.
-It's okay.
-I saw the croquet setup in the back. You up for a match?
-Mmm... Thank you, that was my... first game of strip croquet.
-Well, you're welcome.
It's a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and
boning away on a neighbour's swing set.
-Mmm... there's a lot to be said for throwing off your - oww!
-What a night... What a life...
They wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade
because I was supposed to be this big genius...
-Mmm...
-...then we decided to chuck the idea,
because I'd have trouble making friends,
blah blah blah.