Pretty Persuasion Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Pretty Persuasion script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Evan Rachel Wood movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Pretty Persuasion. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Pretty Persuasion Script


  

  

 

                   

Okay, that's good.



 

                   

- So do you like Dysfunction?

- What?



 

                   

- The show? Do you watch the show?

- Yeah, of course.



 

                   

So, here's the deal. You're Marie-France...



 

                   

a French foreign-exchange student

from France.



 

                   

You're staying with the Parkers,

and you're a little Gallic hottie, all right?



 

                   

- Buttery little croissant.

- A toasty little bagel.



 

                   

Okay, and Cody, naturally,

wants to get all up in that ass soup.



 

                   

- You know what I'm saying?

- Yeah.



  

                   

Do I have to wear these shoes?

My feet are killing me.



  

                   

- They're French.

- Okay, so look, we know that you can dance.



  

                   

So I want you to go ahead

and grab that over there.



  

                   

You'll drop the French bread,

and you'll say the line:



  

                   

"Oh-la-la, I've dropped my baguette!"



  

                   

You wiggle your little tushy

in front of the audience...



  

                   

as you bend over to pick it up, and presto!

A star is born.



  

                   

You think you can handle that?



  

                   

- Do you want me to do it now?

- Yeah.



  

                   

Oh-la-la. I've dropped my baguette!



  

                   

All right, that was excellent.

That was beautiful. That was very nice.



  

                   

I liked the accent, very authentic.



  

                   

Thank you. We're done here. We'll call you.

You can leave now.



  

                   

Don't try to walk off with those shoes, now.

They belong to the show.



  

                   

I'll be interviewing some students...



  

                   

sitting in on some classes,

gathering footage.



  

                   

We'll make sure to be as unobtrusive

as possible.



  

                   

Miss Klein, let me be frank.

The school board approved this, not me.



  

                   

I'm uncomfortable

with the idea of cameras at Roxbury.



  

                   

A lot of very important people

send their very important kids here.



  

                   

- Believe me, Mr. Mayer...

- Meyer. Think of the wiener.



  

                   

Okay. Mr. Meyer,

you have nothing to worry about.



  

                   

We're talking about a harmless little

human interest piece on the local news.



  

                   

Believe me, they're not looking

for anything remotely controversial.



  

                   

Otherwise, why would they assign it to me?



  

                   

Okay, we're done now.

Guess I'll see you in two weeks.



  

                   

- Excellent.

- Come in.



  

                   

God damn it, Meyer,

the kids keyed my car again!



  

                   

- Sorry to interrupt.

- That's all right, we're done.



  

                   

Miss Klein, this is Roger Nicholl,

a Law and Civics teacher here at Roxbury.



  

                   

- Hello.

- Hi, there.



  

                   

Okay.



  

                   

She's a dyke.



  

                   

Symbiotic, that's what our relationship

is going to be like, Randa.



  

                   

Just like we learned in biology:



  

                   

The whale,

and the little fish that sticks on it.



  

                   

If you hang with me,

you'll get a lot of attention from boys...



  

                   

that you otherwise wouldn't.



  

                   

Meanwhile, when I'm standing next to you,

I look more attractive by comparison.



  

                   

- Isn't that great?

- Very nice.



  

                   

It's a constant struggle for us girls

who don't conform to the Western ideal...



  

                   

of blonde hair, and blue eyes,

and an hourglass figure.



  

                   

You know, my best friend Brittany,

whom you'll meet soon, is so lucky.



  

                   

She's three for three.



  

                   

Me, I could dye my hair,

but nobody respects a bottle blonde.



  

                   

I am slim, however,

and my breasts are coming along nicely...



  

                   

though not as nicely as my friend Brittany's,

whom you'll meet soon.



  

                   

You're very lucky that I'm doing this for you.



  

                   

I know you probably have an impression

of American high school girls...



  

                   

being mean and spiteful...



  

                   

and it's a reputation that's largely deserved,

believe me.



  

                   

But I'm not like that at all.

I really try to be a good person.



  

                   

The same as my best friend Brittany,

whom you'll meet soon.



  

                   

So here's your first survival tip:



  

                   

This is Beverly Hills,

so a lot of the kids that go here...



  

                   

have rich and famous parents,

and it's good to know who's who.



  

                   

Like, that's Josh Horowitz.



  

                   

His dad is the famous lawyer Larry Horowitz.



  

                   

He defended that baseball player

who killed his wife. He got him off, too...



  

                   

even though they found him

running around...



  

                   

covered in blood with a baseball bat,

screaming, "I killed the bitch!"



  

                   

And that's Lenora Fincher.



  

                   

Her mom was the spokesmodel

for this perfume company...



  

                   

but then she got old and they fired her.



  

                   

And that's Terry something.



  

                   

His parents aren't famous,

so nobody talks to him.



  

                   

I do, though, 'cause I'm a good person.



  

                   

- Hi, Terry.

- It's Dave.



  

                   

- That smells good, what is that?

- Sfeha. Would you like some?



  

                   

- Is it fattening?

- I don't know.



  

                   

I'm on a diet. I better play it safe.



  

                   

I'm organizing this International Food Fair...



  

                   

to raise money

for the Drama Club next week.



  

                   

- You must participate. Will you?

- Okay.



  

                   

Bonus.



  

                   

My hope is that the Fair will not only

raise money for the Drama Club...



  

                   

but also, kind of,

foster a spirit of togetherness...



  

                   

among the multicultural community

here at Roxbury.



  

                   

I have respect for all races...



  

                   

but I'm very glad that I was born white.



  

                   

As a woman, it's the best race to be...



  

                   

especially if you want to become an actress,

like I do.



  

                   

If I wasn't white...



  

                   

then the next thing I'd want to be is Asian,

because a lot of men like Asian girls...



  

                   

because they think they're docile,

and sweet, and subservient...



  

                   

which I don't really think is true...



  

                   

because I once met this Asian girl

at summer camp...



  

                   

and she was a real bitch.



  

                   

If I couldn't be white,

and I also couldn't be Asian...



  

                   

then my third choice

would be African-American...



   

                   

'cause I've always wanted

to be a gospel singer...



   

                   

and also black men are more forgiving

if your butt gets big.



   

                   

Except I definitely want light skin

and Caucasian features...



   

                   

like Vanessa Williams or Halle Berry.



   

                   

So, rule of thumb:



   

                   

Any time you have a sentence

consisting of two clauses...



   

                   

the second being introduced

by a conjunction or by a relative...



   

                   

And finally, you know, Randa,

no offense or anything...



   

                   

but my very last choice would be an Arab.



   

                   

Truth be told,

you're not in a very enviable position.



   

                   

There's a lot of resentment in this country

towards the Middle East...



   

                   

a lot of stereotypes floating around,

which I don't really think are true...



   

                   

because in the short time I've known you,

you haven't tried to bomb anybody...



   

                   

and you currently smell okay to me.



   

                   

But people will laugh at you...



   

                   

and probably make fun of that thing

you wear on your head.



   

                   

- This is my hijab. I must not remove it.

- I know that.



   

                   

But people are ignorant.



   

                   

To give you an example,

there's this joke going around.



   

                   

- How does an Arab get his wife pregnant?

- I do not know.



   

                   

She gets naked and lies down on the bed.



   

                   

He jerks off on the wall,

and they let the flies do the rest.



   

                   

Don't laugh. It's insulting to your people.



   

                   

Miss Joyce?



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Article or a preposition which pertains

to every member of a series...



   

                   

must either be used

only before the first term of the series...



   

                   

or before each and every term.



   

                   

I had a half-brother named Sean,

who died in "Operation Iraqi Freedom. "



   

                   

He was from my dad's first marriage...



   

                   

and I'm a product of his second.

He's now in his third.



   

                   

Anyway, they told my dad

that Sean died from friendly fire...



   

                   

and he refused to believe them.



   

                   

He said that Iraqis are the ones

who killed him.



   

                   

I made the point of saying,

"Why would our own government lie...



   

                   

"and say he was killed by friendly fire...



   

                   

"if Iraqis were the ones who killed him?"



   

                   

- He said I was too young to understand...

- Miss Joyce.



   

                   

There should be exactly one conversation

going on in this classroom, and that's me...



   

                   

talking.



   

                   

Technically, Mr. Anderson,

that's not a conversation.



   

                   

All right, here's one for you,

I'll see you in detention.



   

                   

- But I...

- And you, too.



   

                   

- Me?

- Yes, you.



   

                   

- Her name's Randa.

- Yes, of course it is.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

Which brings us

to the principal of parallel construction.



   

                   

Namely, that expressions

that are similar in content and function...



   

                   

Sorry, Randa.



   

                   

It's unfortunate that we both have detention

with Mr. Anderson...



   

                   

but on the other hand,

it's only going to prolong our day together.



   

                   

- Hey, Arab chick, you wanna buy a gun?

- Get lost you unkempt miscreant!



   

                   

Stay away from Kenny, the arms dealer.



   

                   

It's kids like him that give

this great nation of ours a bad name.



   

                   

You are very wise, Kimberly.

I am most fortunate to have met you.



   

                   

Randa, that's so sweet. Come on.



   

                   

You know, Brit, I was watching girls go by

in their convertibles...



   

                   

I'd say about   % to   % of them

were what we call beautiful.



   

                   

- But you want to know a secret?

- What?



   

                   

They're ugly on the inside, not like you.



   

                   

You're special.

Your kind of beauty lasts forever.



   

                   

- Hi!

- Barry, get off me!



   

                   

Randa, this is Barry.



   

                   

Barry's technically my boyfriend,

except I don't like him.



   

                   

So, Kimberly, Trevor McNeill

has the funniest shit on his locker.



   

                   

It's this poster with all these reasons

why beer is better than a woman.



   

                   

One of the reasons was:



   

                   

Beer doesn't talk.



   

                   

- No, that wasn't it.

- It's okay, Barry.



   

                   

- Trev, yo, what's up, man?

- Barry plays football.



   

                   

- Girlfriend.

- Girlfriend.



   

                   

- How was the Dysfunction audition?

- I'm not holding my breath.



   

                   

It's so hard to stand out

from all the other aspirants, you know?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

So, Brittany, this is Randa.



   

                   

Randa's from the Middle East.

She's really sweet.



   

                   

- She doesn't say much, though.

- Hi.



   

                   

I know all about the immigrant experience,

how hard it can be.



   

                   

I'm Canadian.



   

                   

So where were you all day?



   

                   

Truant with Troy.



   

                   

- You look high on happy pills.

- God, Kimberly, he's a poet.



   

                   

Everything that comes out of his mouth

is like an iambic pentagram.



   

                   

- Who is Troy?

- Who's Troy?



   

                   

He's only the hottest hottie

of all the hotties at Roxbury.



   

                   

That's what my mother called

"damning with faint praise. "



   

                   

Kimberly and Troy used to go out.

Now that Troy and I are together...



   

                   

she could have been a green-eyed monster...



   

                   

but instead she's been really sweet about it.



   

                   

Brittany, I wouldn't ruin our friendship

over a boy.



   

                   

- Wonder Twins.

- Wonder Twins.



   

                   

Brittany and I are the best of friends.

We confide in each other.



   

                   

Like the other day...



   

                   

Brittany confided that she feels dirty

when she masturbates...



   

                   

but I told her it was normal and healthy,

even when you do it as much as she does.



   

                   

I forgot to tell you,

they've posted the cast for Anne Frank.



   

                   

Really? Well, who's Anne?



   

                   

I don't know, silly. I waited for you.

Come on.



   

                   

Come on, Randa.



   

                   

- I'm sorry, Brittany.

- Don't be.



   

                   

Personally,

I think you deserved it way more.



   

                   

Kimberly, you're a way better actress.

You always have been.



   

                   

- You know, Margot is a really good role.

- Yeah.



   

                   

And everybody knows

that Anne Frank was a brunette.



   

                   

So if you played her

you'd have to dye your hair.



   

                   

You wouldn't want to do that, would you,

Brittany? You're so cute as a blonde.



   

                   

That's true.



   

                   

Oh, look! Troy is playing Peter Van Daan.



   

                   

That means I'll have to kiss him.



   

                   

I hope you won't be jealous.



   

                   

- Well, it's just acting, right?

- Yeah, of course.



   

                   

I still feel bad, though.



   

                   

Well, don't, Kimberly.

I'm really happy for you.



   

                   

I mean, if it couldn't be me, I'm glad it's you.



   

                   

You're my best friend, Brittany.



   

                   

I say we go to Fred Segal

and do some damage.



   

                   

It sounds keen, but I gotta pass.

Randa and I have DT with Mr. A.



   

                   

- Be careful.

- Careful? Why?



   

                   

Mr. Anderson's kind of weird,

especially around girls.



   

                   

We think he's a podiatrist.



   

                   

Ignore her, she thinks everybody's hot

for her nubile bod.



   

                   

- So anyway, Margot, we'll catch you later.

- All right, Anne.



   

                   

- Down with Nazis!

- Boo, Nazis!



   

                   

Daddy, I have some news.



   

                   

I'm going to be playing Anne Frank

in the school play.



   

                   

The school play?

I thought that you want to be a movie star.



   

                   

Daddy, I have some news.



   

                   

I'm going to be playing Anne Frank

in the school play.



   

                   

Jew broad, right? Anne Frank?

She was Jewish?



   

                   

Can I just say this, okay? In my office...



   

                   

I wouldn't mind if it was   %,   %,

maybe even   %...



   

                   

but ever since

we took the company public...



   

                   

being in a board meeting

is like being in a fucking synagogue!



   

                   

I hear the suffixes of the surnames

around me, and it's all like...



   

                   

bloom, berg, witz, stein, gold,

schtickman, hackman...



   

                   

You know, I swear to God, I feel threatened.



   

                   

I'm not kidding, that's how I feel.

I feel like a minority.



   

                   

Kathy?



   

                   

Kimberly, we've talked about this.



   

                   

I would really like it

if you'd start calling me Mom.



   

                   

- Kathy?

- No.



   

                   

- Yes, Kimberly?

- Do you fuck dogs?



   

                   

You know they're just looking for an excuse.



   

                   

They're looking for an excuse to fire me,

just looking.



   

                   

Sometimes I hear them talk and I think,

they're communicating with each other...



   

                   

in some kind of secret Yid-code

that I'm not privy to. I swear to God.



   

                   

Eat your moo shoo pork by the way.

It's delicious.



   

                   

- I don't like this kind.

- It's fucking delicious. Eat it.



   

                   

Last week's meeting, there's a guy there,

he's coughing, right?



   

                   

He starts coughing, like a coughing fit.



   

                   

You know, a fucking, coughing Kike, right?

So I think...



   

                   

I'm sitting here, I'm looking, I'm thinking...



   

                   

is he, like,

coughing in fucking Yiddish or something?



   

                   

Like, listen to this...



   

                   

Wait till Hank turns his back...



   

                   

and then stab him with a dreidel!



   

                   

- Kathy?

- Yes.



   

                   

Do you fuck dogs?



   

                   

It's like the fucking Titanic.

We hit an iceberg, fucking ridiculous.



   

                   

This is interesting. I read about this.



   

                   

This is a phase. It's called repetition.



   

                   

It's when they feel the need to repeat things.



   

                   

Kathy? I got it. Fine.



   

                   

Kimberly, listen to me. Okay?

I'm going to say something to you.



   

                   

There is a difference

between bonafide racism...



   

                   

and just speaking the truth,

which is what I'm doing here.



   

                   

You understand that, right?

A big difference.



   

                   

Okay? Because racism, true racism,

stems from ignorance.



   

                   

It is ignorant.



   

                   

Now, I don't want to ever catch you

being a racist.



   

                   

This is not to say you have license

to bring R. Kelly home for dinner, okay?



   

                   

- Or banging some fucking beaner!

- Hank!



   

                   

No, I'm just saying that I'm scared...



   

                   

that she's going to repeat

some of this shit at school.



   

                   

And I know,

because these teachers, you know, hear it...



   

                   

these fucking dykes, lesbians,

these feminists at the school system...



   

                   

with their fucking rectal-ranger buddies,

you know:



   

                   

"Oh, it's the parents' fault.

It's the upbringing. " Right.



   

                   

As if, what, kids couldn't inherently be

fucking complete assholes on their own?



   

                   

And, by the way, no swearing.



   

                   

When you were fucking my dog,

he was going like this...



   

                   

Kimberly, stop it!

Now you are upsetting Bobo.



   

                   

I just got him back from the Asthma Center.



   

                   

- Hello?

- Hello?



   

                   

- Hi, Mom.

- Hello?



   

                   

Kimberly!



   

                   

You know what this is? The Jews.

They call, they hang up.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

At least she's not jumping

to some hook-nosed motherfucker...



   

                   

Yeah, I got your card. It was great...



   

                   

except my name

doesn't have an "E" after the "L."



   

                   

And my dog's name is Bobo, not Bubbles.



   

                   

And I actually turned   .



   

                   

No, it's okay, it's an understandable error.

I'm precocious.



   

                   

Dad got me a digital video camera...



   

                   

so that he can tape my violin recitals

and then watch them later...



   

                   

instead of actually attending them

like a good parent would.



   

                   

Mom, can you hang on a second?

I got another call.



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Kimberly, hey, it's Barry. Listen,

I remembered a couple of those jokes.



   

                   

You know,

why beer is better than a woman?



   

                   

Okay, great, Barry.



   

                   

Can you hang on a second?

I'm on the other line with my mom.



   

                   

Sure.



   

                   

Hello? Hey, Mom, I'm back.



   

                   

Already? But we've only been talking for,

like, a minute.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Mom? I love you. Bye.



   

                   

Okay, Barry, tell me.

Why is beer better than a woman?



   

                   

I can't remember. You coming over?



   

                   

Yeah, I'll be over a little later. Okay?



   

                   

Kimberly, how many times have I told you

not to leave the table for a phone call?



   

                   

And then when you were done

fucking my dog...



   

                   

you laid down on my bed,

all naked and sweaty, and you said:



   

                   

"There's nothing like hard canine cock

to satisfy my desires. "



   

                   

So, how's school?



   

                   

I gotta go.



   

                   

- Where?

- Out.



   

                   

- With who?

- My ass crack!



   

                   

Okay, well, try to be back in time. Hey!



   

                   

Ass crack? That's interesting.

You know, anal fixation...



   

                   

Is it theoretically possible for you to shut up

for more than five seconds at a time?



   

                   

Thanks, Barry. That was nice.



   

                   

You're actually good at that when

you remember to take your retainer out.



   

                   

My turn.



   

                   

Barry, I'm sorry, I gotta run.



   

                   

I got homework, and I gotta start

memorizing a bunch of lines.



   

                   

- But we'll get you next time, okay?

- Next time?



   

                   

You say that every time, "Next time. "



   

                   

I don't know, Kimberly.

I'm not going to take this anymore.



   

                   

You don't treat me right.

This is not a balanced relationship.



   

                   

- Next time, I'll go first, okay?

- Yeah, right.



   

                   

God damn it! I fall for it every time!



   

                   

- I hate him! I hate him so much!

- I know, I know.



   

                   

I can't believe he did that to me,

in front of Troy, in front of everybody.



   

                   

Look, he's nothing. He's less than nothing.

He's nobody.



   

                   

I feel like I have this fire inside of me...



   

                   

and I just want to breathe it out,

and I want to burn him.



   

                   

I want to watch him burn.



   

                   

He will, Brittany. We'll burn him.



   

                   

You and me.



   

                   

How? Tell me how?



   

                   

We'll talk about it. Just come over tonight.



   

                   

I've invited Randa, too.

We'll all talk about it, okay?



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

- I love you, Kimberly.

- I love you, too.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

Wait, no, put it back on.

I want to watch The Real World.



   

                   

No, I hate The Real World.

Those girls are bitches.



   

                   

- You're a bitch.

- Yeah, well, you're a trollop.



   

                   

Fine.



   

                   

- I'm sorry I called you a bitch.

- It's okay. I'm sorry I called you a trollop.



   

                   

I don't even really know what one is.



   

                   

It's a promiscuous woman,

often a prostitute.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

It is time to open up my big bag of fun.



   

                   

These are assorted items that I've stolen

from Dad for our consumption this evening.



   

                   

Item number one:

Dad's wine-flavored cigars.



   

                   

Don't those things make you cough?



   

                   

No, they're cigars.

You don't have to swallow. I mean, inhale.



   

                   

No, thanks.



   

                   

Are you sure, Randa?



   

                   

To become successful actresses

you have to learn how to smoke them.



   

                   

- It's trendy.

- That's true.



   

                   

No, thank you, I do not smoke.



   

                   

Okay. Item number two:



   

                   

One of Dad's many, many pornos.



   

                   

Titty Lickers  .

The search for Golden Curlies.



   

                   

- Why would we want to watch a porno?

- 'Cause they're funny.



   

                   

Besides, we have to teach Randa about sex,

and this is the best way to learn.



   

                   

And item number three...



   

                   

and I could get into real, real trouble

if I got caught with these:



   

                   

- Dad's Twinkies.

- Too fattening.



   

                   

Would you please stop criticizing

everything in my big bag of fun?



   

                   

I spent a lot of time putting this together.



   

                   

Anyway, we can barf them up later,

Queen of the Duh.



   

                   

No, change the channel, I can't watch this.



   

                   

Martin Stivers.



   

                   

- Who is Martin Stivers?

- You didn't hear about it?



   

                   

Some kid in a private school in Bel Air

just walked into his cafeteria...



   

                   

with an assault rifle and opened fire.



   

                   

- Killed, like,    kids.

- Twelve.



   

                   

Hey, wait, that's the reporter

that's doing the feature on our school.



   

                   

- I hear she's a lesbian.

- Really?



   

                   

She doesn't look like a lesbian.



   

                   

What is a lesbian?



   

                   

...knows no racial or economic boundaries...



   

                   

that violence can stretch

far beyond the limits of the inner city.



   

                   

Inside the school, there's...



   

                   

I have nightmares about this kid.



   

                   

He wasn't sorry for it, or anything.



   

                   

And when they took him away,

he was, like, laughing.



   

                   

Rambo.



   

                   

In some ways, I know how he feels.



   

                   

I mean,

there are just so many stupid, annoying...



   

                   

worthless people on this planet.



   

                   

They just, like,

get in the way of what you want.



   

                   

The shooting took place between classes,

between the first and second...



   

                   

Anyhow, let's watch the skin flick.



   

                   

Drink up, there.

I don't want it to go to waste.



   

                   

Thank you.

So I did take the car into the shop today.



   

                   

- That was fun.

- That's nice.



   

                   

And I walked in, you know...



   

                   

and it was like this little rabbit

being chucked into this den of foxes...



   

                   

and I swear they started licking their lips,

you know, the moment...



   

                   

At the sight of this middle-class woman...



   

                   

who obviously doesn't know

the first thing about cars...



   

                   

and can be completely taken advantage of,

which is true.



   

                   

- I don't know the first thing about cars.

- Grace.



   

                   

- And I'm sure I was taken advantage of...

- Grace.



   

                   

- What?

- Happy Birthday.



   

                   

- What's the matter? What is it?

- Nothing.



   

                   

I was just...



   

                   

I was just getting concerned...



   

                   

that maybe you didn't get me anything.



   

                   

And I know I'm supposed to say,

"Oh, Percy, you shouldn't have"...



   

                   

but you should have.

You definitely should have.



   

                   

I know.



   

                   

- What is it? What is it?

- Open it.



   

                   

It's a little...



   

                   

It's a little skirt. It's so cute.



   

                   

Actually, it looks like it goes very well

with the blouse you're wearing.



   

                   

Actually, it does.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

You want to try it on?



   

                   

- Now?

- Okay.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

One sec, okay. Here I go, one second.



   

                   

Where are you going?



   

                   

Why don't you change right here?

We are married, for Christ's sake.



   

                   

If you want.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

- It's a nice color.

- Yes.



   

                   

Yep.



   

                   

Oh, yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah.



   

                   

- That's...

- Good?



   

                   

That's...



   

                   

- That's very good.

- Really?



   

                   

Actually, you're right.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

God, it reminds me of those skirts

that the girls wear at your school.



   

                   

Really?



   

                   

Yeah. I hadn't...

I wouldn't have noticed that. That's...



   

                   

- One sec. Don't move.

- Okay.



   

                   

Be right back.



   

                   

I'm a little school girl.



   

                   

I don't want to be late for class.



   

                   

I don't want Mr. Anderson to spank me.



   

                   

Yeah, that's nice.



   

                   

I have an idea.



   

                   

Read this.



   

                   

"Why I deserve to be punished. "



   

                   

Out loud. You read it out loud.



   

                   

"I have misbehaved.



   

                   

"Some adjectives that could be used...



   

                   

"to describe my behavior...



   

                   

"include bad...



   

                   

"naughty, mischievous...



   

                   

"mischievous...



   

                   

"nasty...



   

                   

"and downright inconsiderate. "



   

                   

Oh, frisky.



   

                   

I like this music.

Can you buy the soundtrack to pornos?



   

                   

"Tiffany Minx, Stephanie Swift. "



   

                   

Brittany, a lot of these porn stars

have names that sound like ours.



   

                   

So if we wanted to, when we grow up,

we could be porn stars.



   

                   

- You couldn't, Randa, I'm sorry.

- That is quite all right.



   

                   

I would never want to be a porn star.



   

                   

My sister's ex-boyfriend,

he lives in the Valley...



   

                   

he used to go out with one.

You know what they did?



   

                   

They took the fat out of her butt

and her arms, and they put it in her boobs.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

How is it, please, that two men...



   

                   

at one time...



   

                   

How can this be?



   

                   

One of them is doing her up the butt.



   

                   

Up the...



   

                   

Such a thing is not possible.



   

                   

It is too small, the aperture.



   

                   

Kimberly, would you let someone

do that to you?



   

                   

I have.



   

                   

- No, way!

- Yes, way.



   

                   

- You're such a liar. Who?

- Warren.



   

                   

- Warren Prescott?

- Affirmative.



   

                   

When? How?



   

                   

Last year. We were sort of going out.



   

                   

We were here, kind of getting drunk

on my dad's Captain Morgan...



   

                   

and he just kind of came right out

and said...



   

                   

We've been going out for three months now,

and I really love you, and everything.



   

                   

So I was wondering

if you might let me pack your fudge chute.



   

                   

At first I thought

he wanted to make sundaes...



   

                   

but then he elaborated.



   

                   

He was very polite about it.



   

                   

He said please three times.

I couldn't really bring myself to say no.



   

                   

Well, what was it like?



   

                   

It was okay.



   

                   

Did it hurt?



   

                   

Kind of.



   

                   

But it hurt less with Warren

than it might have with other boys...



   

                   

- if you catch my drift.

- Kimberly!



   

                   

- What is your drift?

- Never mind.



   

                   

But you know what?

A few days later, Warren broke up with me.



   

                   

He said he doesn't want to go out with a girl

who'd let a guy do that to her.



   

                   

- Does that make any sense?

- Boys are so weird.



   

                   

Amen to that.



   

                   

Wait a minute, I like this one.



   

                   

- Hi, Stephanie.

- Hi.



   

                   

Are you here to help me change the oil?



   

                   

You know, I could never give up men,

because I like cock too much.



   

                   

But I don't know...



   

                   

sometimes I just feel like

I need a woman's touch.



   

                   

I know what you mean.



   

                   

Why is that woman...



   

                   

Why is she doing those things

with that other woman?



   

                   

- Why must they show this?

- 'Cause men like to watch it.



   

                   

But it is a sin.



   

                   

Randa, you're going to find out

that a lot of things men like are a sin.



   

                   

Kimberly, tell me you've never done that.



   

                   

- Kimberly?

- What?



   

                   

- You okay, Randa?

- Yes.



   

                   

- Did you get it all out, every last calorie?

- Yes, I think so.



   

                   

Good.



   

                   

Kimberly?



   

                   

You and Troy never actually, like,

did anything, right?



   

                   

No. Brittany, for the    millionth time...



   

                   

me and Troy never, like, did anything.



   

                   

- And it's 'cause Troy didn't want to, right?

- Right.



   

                   

Brittany, you know that.

That's why I dumped him.



   

                   

It's just weird,

'cause with me he's, like, insatiable.



   

                   

I wonder why that is?



   

                   

I'm finished.



   

                   

Okay, girls, it's time to get serious.



   

                   

Oh, no, you're not going to make us write...



   

                   

Amnesty International letters again,

are you?



   

                   

I swear, most of those people deserve

to be in prison.



   

                   

No. Okay, just listen to me.



   

                   

It seems that all three of us

have something in common.



   

                   

Do you know what that is?



   

                   

Our health, happiness, and faith in God.



   

                   

No, I'm talking about Mr. Anderson.



   

                   

What about him?



   

                   

He's done stuff to all three of us.



   

                   

I hate him. I hate him so much!



   

                   

- Yes, he is a bad man.

- I know, girls.



   

                   

So I've been thinking.



   

                   

I've been thinking that maybe it's about time

we put a stop to him.



   

                   

Remove all jewelry, watches,

earrings, rings...



   

                   

and place them in the box.

You know the drill, people.



   

                   

A metal detector at Roxbury?



   

                   

Yeah, everybody's freaked out

'cause of what happened over in Bel Air.



   

                   

They don't want it to happen here, I'm sure.

They figured it out.



   

                   

Ain't nobody safe,

no matter how rich you are.



   

                   

Ain't nobody safe.



   

                   

Next!



   

                   

Are you sure about this, Kimberly?

I'm scared.



   

                   

Don't be. We're doing the right thing.



   

                   

They're going to try and discredit us,

and turn us against each other...



   

                   

but we have to stand firm, okay?

We have to stick together, no matter what.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Then we'll watch him burn.



   

                   

- Okay.

- Let's do it.



   

                   

Behind me lies one of L.A. County's

most exclusive private schools.



   

                   

Roxbury Academy in Beverly Hills.



   

                   

A safe haven for the children

of the rich and the privileged.



   

                   

A place where they can study

in peace and harmony...



   

                   

free from the troubles that plague

many of the region's public schools...



   

                   

until today.

Because, today, this hallowed institution...



   

                   

was rocked on its very foundations

with allegations of sexual assault.



   

                   

The accused, Percy Anderson...



   

                   

an English and Drama teacher...



   

                   

and new addition this year

to Roxbury's distinguished faculty.



   

                   

The alleged victims...



   

                   

three   -year-old sophomore girls...



   

                   

all of whom have waived their right

to anonymity.



   

                   

Their names are, Kimberly Joyce,

Brittany Wells, and Randa Azzouni.



   

                   

I will continue to bring you more

of the details...



   

                   

of this stunning story as it unfolds.



   

                   

For Team    News,

this is Emily Klein in Beverly Hills.



   

                   

Okay, cut.



   

                   

That was fucking great!



   

                   

You were so fucking good!



   

                   

I can't believe this is happening.



   

                   

How are we going to afford a lawyer,

on what we make?



   

                   

What kind of a country are we living in

when a trio of little tramps...



   

                   

can besmirch an innocent man's name

with completely fabricated accusations?



   

                   

Wow, that was really good use

of the word besmirch.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Guys, what would you say if I told you

I got a lawyer?



   

                   

I mean a great lawyer.



   

                   

Really smart guy,

he's like a borderline genius.



   

                   

And I think I can get him to do it for free,

a nominal fee, at most.



   

                   

Okay, who?



   

                   

Me, Perc. I'm talking about me.



   

                   

Roger, this isn't a joke, okay?

This is my life.



   

                   

I need a real lawyer,

not a high-school Law teacher.



   

                   

Okay, look,

what you seem to be forgetting is that...



   

                   

I'm not just a high-school Law teacher,

all right?



   

                   

I passed the Bar in '  .



   

                   

So, technically, I'm licensed to practice law

in the State of California.



   

                   

I understand, Roger.



   

                   

Technically, you can practice law,

but you're not a practicing lawyer.



   

                   

No, I'm not,

but I'll be better than a public defender.



   

                   

What I lack in experience,

you know I'll make up for with insight.



   

                   

I know you, I know the school,

and I know these girls.



   

                   

Look at me, man, I'm your guy.



   

                   

I don't... What's the point?



   

                   

Nobody's going to believe me.

I'm never gonna beat this.



   

                   

What kind of attitude is that?

I already have a foolproof strategy.



   

                   

I saw this in a movie once, all right?

Look, we say one of your arms is dead...



   

                   

useless. Then, at a crucial point in the trial,

I throw a jar at you...



   

                   

and you catch it with your other hand,

thus proving your innocence.



   

                   

You are an idiot.



   

                   

Which arm do we say is dead?



   

                   

- Well, which hand did you grope them with?

- Roger.



   

                   

Roger, let me make something clear to you,

all right?



   

                   

I didn't touch these girls. Never. Not once.

Not one of them.



   

                   

Let me make something clear to you, okay?



   

                   

If I'm gonna be your lawyer,

I don't wanna know if you did it.



   

                   

I don't care. It's irrelevant.



   

                   

- Okay, but...

- No, listen to me.



   

                   

I don't want to know. Got it?



   

                   

Now I'm running my fingers

along your chest.



   

                   

And my red nails

are ripping through your chest hair...



   

                   

like fire through a forest.



   

                   

What am I doing to you?



   

                   

I've got my thumb so far up your ass,

I'm bowling with your ass.



   

                   

- Okay? I'm...

- Hank!



   

                   

Yeah!



   

                   

Okay, so that Evers report, I think,

is due on Monday, is it not?



   

                   

- Yeah...

- Hank, have you seen Bobo?



   

                   

That stupid dog pissed all over my Manolos.



   

                   

Fuck Bobo, okay? Yeah, okay, and the nips?



   

                   

That shipment is coming in...

That's tomorrow, I think.



   

                   

Talking to Moishe.



   

                   

Yeah. Shalom.



   

                   

Yeah, I'll see you at the mezuzah, okay?



   

                   

Fucking Hebs, you know, I got...



   

                   

What, you can't see

that I'm working here? Hello?



   

                   

Never mind. Bobo! Fucking dog!



   

                   

Run, Bobo, run.



   

                   

Still there?

Fuck, are you kidding? I got teak.



   

                   

Knock, knock.



   

                   

You okay, Daddy?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

Kimberly, you're a smart girl.



   

                   

So before you decided to do this thing

that you're doing...



   

                   

gee, I hope you thought long

and hard about it.



   

                   

I hope you thought about

what it's going to mean for Daddy.



   

                   

What are you saying?



   

                   

Well, you know,

Daddy's name isn't just his name.



   

                   

It's also a brand name...



   

                   

and people associate brand names

with certain qualities.



   

                   

For instance,

when people hear the name Walt Disney...



   

                   

they think, "family friendly"...



   

                   

even though Disney gives benefits

to faggots.



   

                   

And when they hear the name Henry Joyce,

do you know what they think of?



   

                   

- What?

- "Quality electronics at the lowest prices. "



   

                   

And I want it to stay that way, Kimberly.



   

                   

I don't want them thinking,

"Slutty daughter, who takes it in the ass. "



   

                   

So if it turns out that you were...



   

                   

somehow making all this up...



   

                   

- How can you say that?

- No, I'm not saying anything.



   

                   

It's just, you know how people

always want to blame the parents...



   

                   

and it just drives me fucking crazy.



   

                   

Daddy, I would never do anything

to hurt you or your reputation.



   

                   

Yay, Kimberly. Good, good. That's...



   

                   

Kimberly? Kimberly.



   

                   

Would you please take your dog for a walk?



   

                   

- Are you done fucking him?

- Enough of that already.



   

                   

What? I saw her.



   

                   

Her red nails were running through

his chest hair like fire through a forest.



   

                   

That's actually kind of poetic.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

I've said what I've had to say here.



   

                   

I just do wish you would've told me before

you went and started this thing because...



   

                   

I'm sure it will be fine,

because these things never go to trial.



   

                   

And so day one of the Roxbury

sexual assault trial is set to begin.



   

                   

Stay tuned to Team    News

for more updates, throughout the day.



   

                   

I'm Emily Klein.



   

                   

Okay, cut.



   

                   

- This is huge.

- Fucking huge.



   

                   

Can you believe this all started out

as a wimpy little special-interest feature?



   

                   

They give me fluff, and I turn it into dirt.



   

                   

- You know what that is?

- It's hot. It's fucking hot.



   

                   

No, it's talent. Here, wait here.



   

                   

Kimberly. Hi. Off the record...



   

                   

I just want to say

that I really admire your courage.



   

                   

Thank you, Emily.



   

                   

I'm doing this

because I feel like I have a responsibility.



   

                   

Not just to myself but to all the other girls

all around the world...



   

                   

- who have been subjected to harassment.

- Yes.



   

                   

Or, God forbid, outright assault

at the hands of teachers...



   

                   

and who are too scared

or ashamed to come forth.



   

                   

I'm fighting a battle

inside these walls, Emily...



   

                   

but I'm also fighting a war.



   

                   

You have such passion and conviction.



   

                   

You kind of remind me of myself

when I was your age.



   

                   

I only wish I'd had half your self-assurance.



   

                   

Thank you, Emily.



   

                   

And, off the record...



   

                   

I could never give up men.

I like cock too much.



   

                   

But sometimes I just need a woman's touch.



   

                   

Hi.



   

                   

I have no further questions, Your Honor.



   

                   

Mr. Nicholl, you may cross-examine.



   

                   

After you.



   

                   

Your Honor.



   

                   

Well, well, well.



   

                   

That's quite a story you've spun for us,

Miss Joyce.



   

                   

Very detailed, and might I say, very graphic.



   

                   

But let me ask you something,

is any of it true?



   

                   

Or is it all just a malicious fabrication...



   

                   

designed to discredit

and humiliate the man...



   

                   

that replaced you as the lead

in the school play?



   

                   

I wouldn't perjure myself, Mr. Nicholl,

not for any reason.



   

                   

I'm sure you wouldn't, Kimberly.



   

                   

But tell me, why do you think you were fired

from the role of Anne Frank?



   

                   

I suppose it was because of something

I said in the cafeteria...



   

                   

during the International Food Fair...



   

                   

which I organized to raise money

for the Drama Club, as well as...



   

                   

foster a spirit of togetherness among

the multicultural community at Roxbury.



   

                   

Would you care to recount this incident

to the court?



   

                   

Certainly.



   

                   

It was during lunch hour,

back in September.



   

                   

The Food Fair was on...



   

                   

and you and Mr. Anderson

were supervising...



   

                   

so you had to eat lunch with the students.



   

                   

You were sitting at a table in the corner...



   

                   

and Brittany and I could see you

from our table, where we sat...



   

                   

- eating granola and low-fat yogurt.

- Could you hear what we were saying?



   

                   

No, but you sure looked at us a lot.



   

                   

That Kimberly Joyce.



   

                   

What about her?



   

                   

She's a very good student.

She's very bright.



   

                   

You sure about that?



   

                   

Yeah, she's a fantastic actress, as well.



   

                   

Let me tell you something

about Kimberly Joyce.



   

                   

Last year, her freshman year,

she took a standard IQ test...



   

                   

obliterated all school records.

Nobody believed it.



   

                   

They figured she was cheating,

so they made her take it again.



   

                   

She scored even higher.

Made her take it a third time.



   

                   

Guess what happened on the third time?

Her test broke the computer.



   

                   

- It broke... She scored that high?

- No, she didn't.



   

                   

She penciled in those little circles

to spell "fuck you. "



   

                   

- Does that break the computer?

- My point is this:



   

                   

You have brains like that,

you have the face of an angel...



   

                   

throw in a ripe little pubescent body

bursting out of that uniform...



   

                   

- that spells trouble.

- Okay.



   

                   

The devil wears a gray skirt, my friend,

and her name is Kimberly Joyce.



   

                   

Earlier this week, in detention...



   

                   

I could have sworn

she was coming on to me.



   

                   

Of course she was coming on to you.



   

                   

Do you want to know why

she was coming on to you?



   

                   

'Cause she knows

you can't do anything about it, that's why.



   

                   

And forget English, Math, Science.



   

                   

For them,

high school is all cock-teasing    .



   

                   

And I got news for you.

Those two are on the honor role.



   

                   

I mean, look at them.

Look at them over there.



   

                   

Whispering. Giggling.



   

                   

You know exactly what they're saying, too.



   

                   

Brittany, God, Mr. Nicholl is so sexy.



   

                   

I mean, he's got such a cute ass.



   

                   

You know, one time I saw Mr. Nicholl

when he thought I wasn't looking.



   

                   

He picked a booger out of his nose,

and then he ate it.



   

                   

You know what, Perc?

Any moment now, they're going to walk by...



   

                   

and they're going to bat their eyelashes,

and they're going to wave.



   

                   

Just the fingers, not the hand.



   

                   

And they're going to expect us

to respond like big drooling lapdogs...



   

                   

which, ordinarily, we would.

But guess what? Not today.



   

                   

Because it ends right now.



   

                   

We're going to give them

the barest of acknowledgment.



   

                   

A simple head nod, if they're lucky.



   

                   

Tonight, they're going to lie in bed,

wide awake...



   

                   

and they're going to wonder why.



   

                   

They're going to wonder,

"Where has my power gone?"



   

                   

- Hi, Mr. Anderson.

- Hi, Mr. Nicholl.



   

                   

- Hi, girls.

- Hi, girls.



   

                   

God damn it.



   

                   

Show me, where is it? Come on.



   

                   

What, do you not speak English?

Come on, show me. Where is it?



   

                   

What? Just show me where Palestine is?



   

                   

What's going on? Randa, are you okay?



   

                   

All I'm asking is she locate Palestine

on a map. Okay?



   

                   

Come on, show me. Where is it?

I mean, where is it?



   

                   

She can't show me.



   

                   

'Cause there never has been, and there

never will be any country called Palestine.



   

                   

Josh Horowitz,

I think it's really low of you...



   

                   

to bring divisive politics

into this Food Fair...



   

                   

when the purpose of it

was to foster a spirit of togetherness...



   

                   

among Roxbury's international community...



   

                   

as well as to raise money

for the Drama Club.



   

                   

Yeah? Well, forgive me,

but you were kind of tempting fate...



   

                   

by putting Israel next to Palestine.



   

                   

I mean,

what kind of fucking diplomacy is that?



   

                   

God help us if you ever become UN Leader.



   

                   

It'd be like World War III.



   

                   

I don't want to become UN Leader,

I want to become an actress, so there.



   

                   

Yeah, well, I'm sure you'll be a good one,

because right now you're acting like a bitch.



   

                   

What are you laughing at, Sudan?



   

                   

And, Josh, at least my dad

isn't a money-grubbing Jew shyster...



   

                   

who lets criminals go free.



   

                   

Oops.



   

                   

Rewind.



   

                   

- It seems like you run a tight ship here.

- Yes, a very tight ship.



   

                   

The parents pay handsomely.

They should expect nothing less.



   

                   

Can you tell us, say, about a typical

complaint you might field from a parent?



   

                   

Complaints are few and far between

at Roxbury.



   

                   

I'm sorry, but we're going to have to end

this conversation today.



   

                   

If there's anything you need,

don't hesitate to ask. I like your suit.



   

                   

- Thanks again.

- Cut.



   

                   

Lesbian bitch!



   

                   

I know exactly what's going on here.

They gave her a puff piece...



   

                   

she resents it, and she's digging for dirt.

God knows, she'll find it around here.



   

                   

Charles, you wanted to see me

about something?



   

                   

I want you to replace Kimberly Joyce

in the play. Find a new lead.



   

                   

I can't do that. She's the best actress

in the school. We go up in two weeks.



   

                   

Well, I'm sorry...



   

                   

but we can't have our Anne Frank

running around...



   

                   

making anti-Semitic remarks.

That's a level of irony...



   

                   

I just don't want to have happening

under this roof.



   

                   

I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it,

Charles. They're just kids, after all.



   

                   

Percy, replace her.



   

                   

Now is not the time to court controversy.



   

                   

- Very well.

- And another thing...



   

                   

be extra careful to behave yourself.



   

                   

- What do you mean?

- You know what I mean.



   

                   

We will not tolerate racial slurs at Roxbury.



   

                   

Now, you can use them at any other time...



   

                   

at home, at the mall,

at rock-'n'- roll concerts...



   

                   

but when you're under my roof

you will respect the heritage...



   

                   

of every student and faculty member.

Do I make myself clear?



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

The ironic thing is

my dad isn't even tight with money.



   

                   

I mean, he owns three sports cars,

and he just bought me...



   

                   

this rare, expensive kind of dog

that only eats tuna fish.



   

                   

Okay, Josh, you've had your say.



   

                   

Kimberly, is there anything

that you'd like to tell Mr. Horowitz?



   

                   

I don't know what came over me.



   

                   

My dad is something of a racist,

and I tend to pick things up at home.



   

                   

Always starts with the parents, doesn't it?



   

                   

But still, I do think that you owe

Mr. Horowitz an apology.



   

                   

I'm sorry about what I said about your dad.



   

                   

It's okay. You were partly right.



   

                   

My dad does let criminals go free.



   

                   

He's really good at it.



   

                   

- Potato latke?

- Too fattening.



   

                   

They're yummy.



   

                   

Okay. Well, I'm glad

we could smooth that over.



   

                   

Why don't you two

just hurry on back to class now?



   

                   

I'm sorry, Kimberly,

my hands are tied on this one.



   

                   

No, Mr. Anderson, you can't do this.



   

                   

- Playing Anne Frank means so much to me!

- I know.



   

                   

You know, right before my brother Sean

left for "Operation Iraqi Freedom"...



   

                   

he gave me a present.

Do you know what it was?



   

                   

- No.

- The Diary of Anne Frank.



   

                   

Come on,

do you really expect me to believe that?



   

                   

I'm not going to forget this.



   

                   

You're being really cool

about this, Kimberly.



   

                   

I thought you might be mad.



   

                   

Don't be silly.

I wouldn't let a play ruin our friendship.



   

                   

I'm glad.



   

                   

Then I helped Brittany dye her hair...



   

                   

because, as you know,

Anne Frank wasn't a blonde.



   

                   

Yes, I do know that, but thank you.



   

                   

Let me ask you something, Kimberly.

Didn't it make you angry...



   

                   

when Mr. Anderson told you

he was replacing you with Brittany Wells?



   

                   

I don't know.



   

                   

You don't know?



   

                   

Look at that, she doesn't know.

Well, thank God I know.



   

                   

Didn't you want to get back at him?



   

                   

- No.

- No?



   

                   

Miss Joyce, isn't it possible

that you are infatuated with Mr. Anderson?



   

                   

Isn't it possible

that you were trying to seduce him?



   

                   

And that you thought that the play

might even bring you closer to him?



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Hold that thought.



   

                   

Ladies and gentlemen,

I now present to you, Exhibit A.



   

                   

Your Honor.



   

                   

An essay, written by you, Miss Joyce,

during detention with Mr. Anderson...



   

                   

as punishment for talking during his class.



   

                   

An essay that you read out loud,

as per his request.



   

                   

Isn't this correct, Miss Joyce?



   

                   

- Yes, that's correct.

- Yes. That's what I thought.



   

                   

Do me a favor, would you?

Read that out loud to the court.



   

                   

Okay, but I'm kind of embarrassed.



   

                   

Embarrassed? Well, well, well.



   

                   

Why are you embarrassed, Kimberly?



   

                   

I wanted to get it done quickly,

and I didn't do a very good job.



   

                   

I mean, I just, you know,

want to let the court know...



   

                   

that this essay does not necessarily reflect

my writing abilities.



   

                   

Nobody cares

about your writing abilities, Kimberly.



   

                   

Just read your essay, please. Thank you.



   

                   

"Why I deserve to be punished.



   

                   

"I have misbehaved.



   

                   

"Some adjectives that could be used

to describe my behavior...



   

                   

"include bad...



   

                   

"naughty, mischievous, nasty...



   

                   

"and downright inconsiderate.



   

                   

"I should know better than to talk in class.



   

                   

"My mother always taught me

not to talk too much...



   

                   

"and when I did, she used to spank me.



   

                   

"She'd spank me so hard that it hurt.



   

                   

"In conclusion, I have learned my lesson...



   

                   

"and I promise not to misbehave

in the future.



   

                   

"But if I do...



   

                   

"I will gladly accept any punishment...



   

                   

"you choose to hand down. "



   

                   

So, that's it. I'm done. Can I go?



   

                   

- Yeah.

- Goodie.



   

                   

I'll take that. That stays here.



   

                   

That's it, I'm done. Can I go?



   

                   

One moment, Your Honor.



   

                   

- What the fuck was that supposed to prove?

- It wasn't anything like that.



   

                   

I swear to God, it's all in the delivery, Roger.



   

                   

Miss Joyce, do me a favor, would you?

Would you read that again, please?



   

                   

And this time I'd love for you

to do it seductively.



   

                   

All right? Just try to make the words sexy.



   

                   

You want me to act sexy for you,

Mr. Nicholl?



   

                   

- Mr. Nicholl?

- Some leeway, please, Your Honor.



   

                   

Very well.



   

                   

Miss Joyce, would you please try

and do what he asks?



   

                   

Please, I appreciate that.



   

                   

Okay, look, I'm really trying,

but I don't know how to be sexy.



   

                   

- I mean, I'm only   !

- It's okay, dear.



   

                   

Mr. Nicholl, if you have no more questions,

then court is adjourned...



   

                   

and we'll continue this tomorrow.



   

                   

Are you all right, dear?



   

                   

Bet you've never seen one like that before.



   

                   

Silly boy, over   % of guys are circumcised.



   

                   

Right.



   

                   

I like it. It's cute.



   

                   

- It is?

- Yes, and you're cute.



   

                   

- I am?

- Yes.



   

                   

- So did you ask him?

- No.



   

                   

- Josh, you said you would.

- I know, I will. I just...



   

                   

It doesn't make sense to me.

I don't understand why.



   

                   

It doesn't have to make sense.



   

                   

All that matters is that I want you to.

It would make me happy.



   

                   

You want to make me happy,

don't you, Josh?



   

                   

- Of course I do, you're amazing.

- I know.



   

                   

Miss Azzouni, now...



   

                   

you were also present

at this detention in question, were you not?



   

                   

Yes. I finished writing my essay

before Kimberly.



   

                   

Mr. Anderson took me in the other room

to discuss it.



   

                   

I'm sorry? Another room?



   

                   

There is a small room

beside Mr. Anderson's classroom...



   

                   

separated by glass.



   

                   

Randa, I'm going to be honest with you.

This essay is unintelligible.



   

                   

You just...



   

                   

Well, you just can't write competently

in the English language.



   

                   

Now, what are we going to do about that?



   

                   

I'm going to let you in on a little secret.



   

                   

It's not fashionable to send your kids

to a place like this anymore.



   

                   

Elitism is out.

You want to be a good Hollywood liberal...



   

                   

you send your kids to a public school.

A safe public school, mind you...



   

                   

but one where they can mingle

with the common people.



   

                   

Meanwhile, this relic of an institution

grows every year...



   

                   

more and more dependent

on wealthy immigrants like yourself...



   

                   

from countries where elitism

is still very much in...



   

                   

to the point where...



   

                   

there is a not-so-subtle pressure

being exerted on people like me...



   

                   

to go easy on people like you.



   

                   

Well, had you gotten virtually

any other teacher at this school...



   

                   

they'd probably turn a blind eye

to sentences like:



   

                   

"I must not speaking in class. "



   

                   

Now, I know what you're thinking right now.



   

                   

You're sitting there, loathing me right now,

aren't you?



   

                   

Because good grades

are very important to your parents.



   

                   

They're vitally important.



   

                   

What are we going to do about that?



   

                   

If your compositional skills don't improve

within the next year...



   

                   

I will have no trouble failing you.



   

                   

All right? Do I make myself clear?



   

                   

Look at me.



   

                   

Now, I know that there's a brain here,

underneath this piece of cloth.



   

                   

And when...



   

                   

Now, here's what we're going to do.



   

                   

And do you recall

any of the details of this discussion?



   

                   

- I do not recollect the details. No.

- That's okay.



   

                   

Tell me, do you remember anything...



   

                   

Mr. Anderson said to you

during that discussion, anything at all?



   

                   

Well, one thing I remember

is that he told an off-color joke.



   

                   

An off-color joke?



   

                   

Mr. Anderson told you an off-color joke.



   

                   

Could you repeat it for us, please?



   

                   

- How does an Arab impregnate his wife?

- How?



   

                   

She lies upon the bed,

he ejaculates upon the wall.



   

                   

And the rest of the duties

are left to the flies.



   

                   

And what happened next, Miss Azzouni?



   

                   

Then he said:



   

                   

"Now I'm going to touch you

on your boobs. "



   

                   

Boobs? I would never say boobs!

I'm an English teacher.



   

                   

- Breasts, I would say breasts...

- Mr. Anderson, restrain yourself.



   

                   

I have no further questions, Your Honor.



   

                   

Very well, Mr. Nicholl,

you may begin your cross-examination.



   

                   

All right, okay. Thank you, Your Honor.



   

                   

Yeah. Good stuff.



   

                   

Miss Azzouni, engage me here

a little bit here, would you?



   

                   

I'm just curious.



   

                   

Which hand did Mr. Anderson

allegedly fondle you with?



    

                   

Both hands.



    

                   

Both hands?



    

                   

No more questions.



    

                   

I'm nervous about testifying tomorrow.



    

                   

I'm not very good under pressure.



    

                   

Well, all you got to do

is tell the truth, right?



    

                   

Right.



    

                   

So what's there to be nervous about?



    

                   

Kimberly and Randa,

they already did a good job on the stand.



    

                   

Especially Kimberly.



    

                   

Man, she was amazing.



    

                   

Look, I'm not Kimberly, okay?



    

                   

This whole thing is really scary for me,

with the Judge and all the lawyers.



    

                   

I'm starting to think it was a bad idea.



    

                   

What? No, hey.



    

                   

Hey, hey.



    

                   

What Mr. A did to you, to all of you,

was wrong.



    

                   

Right?



    

                   

You're right.



    

                   

Baby?



    

                   

Yeah?



    

                   

Did it make you sad

when Kimberly broke up with you?



    

                   

You mean, when I broke up with her.



    

                   

No, when she broke up with you,

'cause you weren't ready to have sex.



    

                   

What? No way. Is that what she told you?



    

                   

What, that's not the way it went?



    

                   

No, it's not even close.



    

                   

What do you mean? What happened?



    

                   

Well, I heard something...



    

                   

that kind of freaked me out...



    

                   

and to be honest with you,

it was kind of making me look bad.



    

                   

One night, I was over at Kimberly's house...



    

                   

and she came out of the bathroom

and started doing this nasty little dance.



    

                   

Kimberly, stop it. Kimberly.



    

                   

What's the matter, baby?

You don't like what you see?



    

                   

Warren Prescott told me what he did to you.



    

                   

Are you going to believe everything

that Warren says?



    

                   

I believe this.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

Assuming that it's true...



    

                   

why is that a problem?



    

                   

If you're good,

I'll let you go where Warren went.



    

                   

No, that is not cool, Kimberly.



    

                   

I don't take some loser's sloppy seconds,

all right?



    

                   

And I don't want to be

with some dirty little whore.



    

                   

What did you say to me?



    

                   

You heard me.



    

                   

Slut.



    

                   

So that was it, I walked out.



    

                   

Wow. She never told me that.



    

                   

It doesn't matter.

Everything happens for a reason.



    

                   

I mean, even when I was with Kimberly,

I always had a thing for you.



    

                   

You know how I used to look at you.



    

                   

I can't help but think she knew that.



    

                   

She's probably just really embarrassed.



    

                   

You're right.



    

                   

And she really is being pretty brave

about this whole thing.



    

                   

Actually, I think

you should just follow her example.



    

                   

You're as brave as she is.



    

                   

Like Kimberly Joyce

and Randa Azzouni before you...



    

                   

you have outlined a disturbing pattern...



    

                   

of repeated sexual assault and harassment...



    

                   

on the part of the defendant, your teacher,

Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

Now I have to ask you,

why did you take so long to come forward?



    

                   

We were scared.



    

                   

We were ashamed.



    

                   

And what finally made you

break your silence?



    

                   

When he decided to do it

in front of everybody.



    

                   

"Decided to do it in front of everybody. "



    

                   

Could you repeat for us the incident

that drove you over the edge?



    

                   

It was at Drama Club,

after school on a Friday.



    

                   

Lee Strasberg, of the famed Actors Studio...



    

                   

used to stress the importance

of being able to perform...



    

                   

private moments on stage.



    

                   

Now, acting is about opening yourself up.



    

                   

It is about freeing yourself from shame,

reticence, inhibition.



    

                   

It's about laying yourself bare.



    

                   

So, Brittany, I want you to show me...



    

                   

your private moment.



    

                   

- Private moment?

- Yes, private moment.



    

                   

Something that you would do

only in complete privacy.



    

                   

Something that no one else

would ever see you do.



    

                   

Now, I want you to take a moment.



    

                   

Think about what that is.

Then, when you have it, show me.



    

                   

I don't want to do that.



    

                   

Do you want to be Anne Frank?

Do you want to be our lead?



    

                   

Yes, but I...



    

                   

All right then, do it. Stop whining and do it.



    

                   

Well, what's he doing here?



    

                   

Roger, what are you...



    

                   

Nobody's here, Brittany. That's the point.



    

                   

None of us are here.

You're alone, by yourself...



    

                   

Close your eyes. All right?



    

                   

Lmagine yourself

in the privacy of your own room...



    

                   

the door is locked, it's closed.



    

                   

Windows are shut.



    

                   

Curtains are drawn.



    

                   

You're all alone.



    

                   

It's just you.



    

                   

You're all alone.



    

                   

It's just you.



    

                   

It's just you.



    

                   

I can't do this.



    

                   

- No way!

- Brittany! Brittany!



    

                   

That was very good.

You know, Anne Frank had nowhere to run.



    

                   

So you can stay here

and act like a professional...



    

                   

or are you going to run and cry,

like a little girl?



    

                   

I am a little girl, you fucking pervert!



    

                   

Pervert.



    

                   

I have no more questions, Your Honor.



    

                   

Very well. Court is adjourned till Monday.



    

                   

- Hello?

- Kimberly, hi, it's Barry.



    

                   

- Hi, Barry.

- I haven't seen you lately.



    

                   

I've actually been thinking.

How can I put this tactfully?



    

                   

Barry, I never really liked you

all that much...



    

                   

and I think we should break up.



    

                   

Barry?



    

                   

It always goes down easy.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

That was one of the reasons

why beer is better than a woman.



    

                   

If it's flat, you can throw it out.



    

                   

Okay, Barry...



    

                   

You don't have to wash it

before it tastes good.



    

                   

I've really got to go, okay?



    

                   

- It's always wet...

- Barry!



    

                   

Are you even listening to me?

Did you hear what I said?



    

                   

Is it another guy?



    

                   

Yeah!



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

I bet you've never seen one of those, before.



    

                   

You silly girl, I have one.



    

                   

Oh, right.



    

                   

I like it, it's cute.



    

                   

- Is it?

- Yes, and you're cute.



    

                   

- I am?

- Yes.



    

                   

- You're amazing.

- I know.



    

                   

Dad? Busy?



    

                   

- I'm always busy, Josh.

- Right.



    

                   

I was wondering

if I could ask you something.



    

                   

Put that down, that's a memento.



    

                   

- What is it, Josh, what is it?

- Sorry.



    

                   

Look, it's just...



    

                   

I was wondering if you

could help out Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

It's really tearing me up inside

watching him go through this trial.



    

                   

I mean, he's such a good teacher.



    

                   

I can't even remember

how many long sessions...



    

                   

that he spent with me after school,

helping me...



    

                   

with my math homework.



    

                   

I thought Mr. Anderson

was an English and Drama teacher.



    

                   

Yeah, but he's really good at math, too.



    

                   

Mr. Anderson couldn't afford five minutes

of my time.



    

                   

I know that, Dad.

But I was hoping you could do it pro boner.



    

                   

Pro bono, Josh, Latin.

And I don't do pro bono.



    

                   

But he's innocent, Dad,

these girls are totally lying.



    

                   

I got a lot more important cases

on my desk...



    

                   

than some high-school tempest in a teapot.



    

                   

I know that, Dad, but...



    

                   

Look, you know how

you're always apologizing to me...



    

                   

about how your work leaves you

so little time to spend with me...



    

                   

and watch me growing up,

and so, instead, you're always...



    

                   

buying me these rare, expensive

kinds of dogs that only eat tuna fish?



    

                   

Well, I think that if you did this favor

for me, Dad...



    

                   

it'd go a long way towards

making up for that.



    

                   

Well, I'll consider it.



    

                   

Hey.



    

                   

With the surprise addition of Larry Horowitz

to Percy Anderson's defense team...



    

                   

the Roxbury sex trial

has leapt off the local pages...



    

                   

and attained dramatic new proportions.



    

                   

Today, the eyes of a nation,

indeed, of other nations...



    

                   

will turn to this courthouse

in Beverly Hills...



    

                   

where Larry Horowitz,

will make his first court appearance.



    

                   

If one emblematic figure, above all others,

has emerged during this trial...



    

                   

it would have to be beautiful,

young plaintiff, Kimberly Joyce.



    

                   

As a woman,

it's difficult not to feel inspired...



    

                   

by her marching into court each day...



    

                   

her chin held high, her chest...



    

                   

her chest thrust forward.



    

                   

A steely determination in her eyes...



    

                   

like a latter day Joan of Arc,

going off to fight in the Crusade.



    

                   

Give me a fucking break.



    

                   

Other beneficiaries of the intensified

media attention include me.



    

                   

You're all so sweet.

Thank you all for your letters.



    

                   

And now,

to answer some of your questions.



    

                   

Francine Whitmore of Anaheim asks:



    

                   

Is this my natural hair color?



    

                   

Well, Francine,

a lady doesn't reveal her beauty secrets.



    

                   

And no, James Foster of Newport Beach,

I'm technically not single.



    

                   

But don't give up hope...



    

                   

because you never know

what might happen in the future.



    

                   

Shit.



    

                   

Cut! Did you get that? Nadine!



    

                   

Mr. Horowitz,

you may begin cross-examination.



    

                   

So I've been thinking.



    

                   

I've been thinking that maybe

it's about time we put a stop to him.



    

                   

Let's begin by talking

about career aspirations.



    

                   

Randa, as you know,

Brittany and I want to be actresses.



    

                   

So where do you see yourself in    years?



    

                   

I would like to be a doctor, because I think

it is a good thing to help society.



    

                   

I would especially like to help the poor.



    

                   

Okay. Randa, that's really sweet...



    

                   

but in America, doctors don't help the poor.



    

                   

And I hope you're not implying

that actresses don't help society...



    

                   

because they often attend charity events...



    

                   

and, you know, appear in films

that have important social messages.



    

                   

- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...

- It's okay.



    

                   

I just hope that me and Brittany

can persuade you to change your mind.



    

                   

Being a doctor

requires an awful lot of schooling...



    

                   

whereas the wonderful thing

about being an actress is...



    

                   

you don't have to study at all.



    

                   

All it takes is talent, determination...



    

                   

and sleeping with some people

who you otherwise wouldn't.



    

                   

- And the edge.

- Yes.



    

                   

Brittany and I often talk about the edge.



    

                   

See, unfortunately, we're not

the only aspiring actresses in this town.



    

                   

It's filled to the brim with competition,

most of whom are equally talented...



    

                   

and equally as beautiful,

and equally as promiscuous.



    

                   

So you need something

to separate yourself from the pack.



    

                   

You need the edge.



    

                   

This leads us to Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

- It does?

- Yes.



    

                   

Randa, what's the greatest thing

about this country?



    

                   

Sylvester Stallone?



    

                   

No. The greatest thing

about this country is freedom.



    

                   

And one of those freedoms

is that anybody can sue anybody...



    

                   

at any time, over anything.



    

                   

And even if your case

is completely unfounded and you lose...



    

                   

you can still tarnish

someone's reputation forever.



    

                   

You want to sue Mr. Anderson?



    

                   

The timing's perfect.



    

                   

That lesbian reporter's roaming

the hallowed halls of Roxbury.



    

                   

What if something explosive happened...



    

                   

during what was supposed

to be an innocuous little puff piece?



    

                   

Something like sexual assault charges?



    

                   

Do you suppose that the main players...



    

                   

might be subject to an enormous amount

of media exposure?



    

                   

Do you suppose that it might jump start

their acting careers?



    

                   

Okay, what's the worst-case scenario?



    

                   

We lose the case, we still get famous...



    

                   

and Mr. Anderson has to live

with the stigma for the rest of his life.



    

                   

The rest of his life?



    

                   

Brittany, don't pussy out on me.



    

                   

Look, he's failing Randa.



    

                   

He canned me from the play.



    

                   

We all know what he did to you.



    

                   

You said you wanted to burn him.



    

                   

And the way I see it,

he's already doused himself in gasoline.



    

                   

All we have to do is strike a match.



    

                   

Will Mr. Anderson be fired?



    

                   

In all likelihood, yes.



    

                   

- Then I am in.

- Bonus.



    

                   

Would we have to, like, testify?



    

                   

Probably not. These things never go to trial.



    

                   

'Cause you know I'm no good

under pressure.



    

                   

Mr. Horowitz,

you may begin cross-examination.



    

                   

Miss Wells...



    

                   

Okay! It's all a lie, every word is a lie!

But it was Kimberly's idea!



    

                   

We were just mad at Mr. Anderson.

We wanted to get back at him!



    

                   

Oops.



    

                   

Rewind?



    

                   

Cocktails.



    

                   

You lying, backstabbing,

two-faced little cunt!



    

                   

Hi, Emily.



    

                   

Do you have any idea what you've done?



    

                   

Do you have any idea how many victims...



    

                   

how many real victims

of sexual harassment...



    

                   

have just lost all credibility

in the public eye?



    

                   

How many are going to be afraid

to come forward now?



    

                   

How many are going to continue

to suffer in silence...



    

                   

all because of this asinine little stunt

you've pulled?



    

                   

I don't know, Emily. How many?



    

                   

I'm going to bury you.



    

                   

I beg to differ.



    

                   

While all the other little pundits

with microphones...



    

                   

are going to be clamoring

for my head on a stick...



    

                   

the most popular

and influential reporter in town...



    

                   

is going to be marching

to quite the different drum.



    

                   

You are going to be my lone champion...



    

                   

my staunch defender,

my dyke in shining armor.



    

                   

And why would I want to do that?



    

                   

Because if you don't,

I'll go right to your news director...



    

                   

and tell him exactly

where his favorite little bloodhound...



    

                   

had been digging for milk bones.



    

                   

As far as lapses in journalistic integrity go...



    

                   

I'd say that munching underage rug

is way the hell up there.



    

                   

Wouldn't you?



    

                   

Like he's going to believe you.

Everyone knows you're a liar now.



    

                   

I have proof.



    

                   

What did you do? Did you videotape us?



    

                   

Do you know I thought

that you were like I was in high school?



    

                   

A loner, smarter than everyone else,

just misunderstood. But you're not.



    

                   

My God,

you're just another one of the mean ones...



    

                   

who called me names,

who made my life miserable.



    

                   

My God, you're just another one of those.



    

                   

Okay, Emily, listen carefully.



    

                   

That is the sound of me not caring.



    

                   

I gotta go.



    

                   

- You used me.

- Ditto, sister.



    

                   

Have you looked at yourself

in the mirror lately? My God.



    

                   

You have brought shame upon this family.



    

                   

So much shame, I cannot express.



    

                   

In part, I blame this country.



    

                   

Its influence. Its moral decay.



    

                   

Perhaps it was a mistake to come here.



    

                   

But you should have enough strength

to resist.



    

                   

That's how we raised you.



    

                   

Look at me when I'm talking to you!



    

                   

You should have

more than enough strength!



    

                   

Today is as if I have no daughter!



    

                   

Get up!



    

                   

The disgraced students

arrived at school today...



    

                   

after the end of classes

to collect their belongings.



    

                   

The three girls

have been suspended indefinitely...



    

                   

while the school decides

on disciplinary action.



    

                   

The DA's office revealed yesterday...



    

                   

that all charges against Percy Anderson

have been dropped.



    

                   

I can't believe you lied.



    

                   

- Troy...

- Don't touch me!



    

                   

I cannot believe

you were up there in court...



    

                   

saying all those disgusting things

about Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

I can't believe you made all that up.

What kind of person are you?



    

                   

But the thing in Drama, that was true.

You were there.



    

                   

My God, Brittany, he was trying to help you.



    

                   

You just throw it back in his face.



    

                   

Troy, please don't be mad.



    

                   

Mad? I don't want to look at you anymore.



    

                   

You disgust me.



    

                   

You know,

I thought you were different, Brittany.



    

                   

But you're not.



    

                   

We're through.



    

                   

Does it feel bad?



    

                   

Like a hundred little cuts

all over your body?



    

                   

You wanna just crawl in the dirt

and stay there...



    

                   

where no one can see, don't you?



    

                   

Look on the bright side, Brittany.

As an actress...



    

                   

whenever you need to feel pain...



    

                   

you can look back on this moment.



    

                   

You can bottle it up and keep it forever.



    

                   

Hurry up.



    

                   

Whoa, you have any metal on you?

Jewelry, earrings, anything like that?



    

                   

See, there you go.

Every day we go through this.



    

                   

All right, you sure you got everything now?



    

                   

Everything. All right, go ahead.

Try it one more time.



    

                   

Okay. All right.



    

                   

I'm going to have to ask you

to remove your...



    

                   

- Is there a problem here?

- This is part of our religion.



    

                   

Yeah, I understand it's religious,

but the machine...



    

                   

Sir, I don't care about your machine.

She is here to get her books.



    

                   

Okay, fine, go. You two, stay. Go.



    

                   

- Just trying to doing my job, sir.

- I understand.



    

                   

- All right.

- I know that.



    

                   

Will you shut the fuck up?



    

                   

Enough already! Come on!



    

                   

Fuck me!



    

                   

Will you stop it!



    

                   

Bobo, come here.

Where's the fucking dog? Hey!



    

                   

Shit! Bobo!



    

                   

Hey!



    

                   

Hello? I'm trying to think in here.



    

                   

I'm trying to do a little work in here!



    

                   

Hello? Does anybody think about me?



    

                   

Enough already

with the Ludwig-van-fucking-Mozart crap!



    

                   

Can't you hear me thinking there?



    

                   

I got a job to do! I've got work to do!

Stop it.



    

                   

Stop!



    

                   

Fuck me in the ass. I'm trying to work!



    

                   

Do you not pay attention

to anything but yourself?



    

                   

She shouldn't have done that.



    

                   

Who?



    

                   

The diaper head.



    

                   

Maybe somebody should have given

just a little bit more thought...



    

                   

to the consequences of their action.



    

                   

Have you any idea,

this little charade you cooked up...



    

                   

how it's made me look, huh?



    

                   

- I'm sorry about your business, Daddy.

- Thank you. I feel so much better.



    

                   

But I bet you have a lot more

free time now, right?



    

                   

Free time?



    

                   

She thinks I'm gonna spend the free time

with her. Can you fucking imagine?



    

                   

Why would I want to spend any more time

than I have to with a manipulative...



    

                   

little twat, like you! You crazy?



    

                   

You got a fuzzy little brain in your head,

explain it to her.



    

                   

Why would I want to do that?



    

                   

You know, there was a time...



    

                   

when I actually thought I could protect you.



    

                   

It just seems so long ago.



    

                   

Well, fuck me, cocksuckers,

I'm through with that now.



    

                   

Okay? It's over.



    

                   

You can do whatever you want. I don't care!



    

                   

You want to join a rock band, fine.

Go ahead.



    

                   

Become a hooker, get pregnant,

do drugs, here.



    

                   

Here's a little something to get you started.



    

                   

Come on, you are such a good little man,

I'm going to treat your fuzzy little nose.



    

                   

And you are just like your fucking mother,

a cunt.



    

                   

Come on.



    

                   

I don't even like this kind, you asshole!



    

                   

Then shove them up your ass!



    

                   

Bobo, come on with Daddy.



    

                   

Come on, Bobo.



    

                   

I just think it's horrible

what they put that poor man through.



    

                   

You have to wonder what kind of homes

these girls are coming from.



    

                   

I mean, what kind of parents could raise

such horrible little monsters?



    

                   

Who knows where she got the gun?

I mean, accessibility to firearms...



    

                   

is one of the main problems

facing the youth of society today.



    

                   

Hold on, I got a call.



    

                   

So you'll forgive me, loyal viewers,

if I don't clap my hands...



    

                   

and join in on another round

of "blame the victim. "



    

                   

To my eyes,

Kimberly Joyce will always be innocent...



    

                   

and more than that, she will be

an American heroine. The blood...



    

                   

Kimberly Joyce tried out for Marie-France,

didn't she?



    

                   

- Yeah.

- And why didn't we pick her again?



    

                   

Didn't stand out.



    

                   

- Is it too late to re-cast that role?

- It's never too late.



    

                   

Lisa, I need you to find Kimberly Joyce.



    

                   

Girlfriend.



    

                   

Hey. Kathy let me in.



    

                   

I'm sorry I haven't called in ages.

I've just been really busy.



    

                   

Did I tell you I'm moving to my mom's?



    

                   

I was talking to Josh Horowitz.



    

                   

Yeah?



    

                   

He told me something.



    

                   

I've been trying to wrap my head around

what it means, but I can't.



    

                   

What did he tell you, Brit?



    

                   

He said you asked him to ask his father

to represent Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

And if that's true...



    

                   

the only thing it could possibly mean

is that you wanted me to confess.



    

                   

So I was trying to think, why?



    

                   

But I couldn't find an answer.



    

                   

Well, maybe you should think a little harder.



    

                   

Was all this really just to get famous?



    

                   

To get your face on TV?

To be on that stupid show?



    

                   

Partly.



    

                   

Because you're the only one

who got famous.



    

                   

Kimberly, everyone's already

forgotten about me.



    

                   

Don't sweat it, hon.



    

                   

Fame is overrated.



    

                   

It's so fleeting, you know?



    

                   

Heartbreak, on the other hand...



    

                   

Heartbreak lasts forever.



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

Troy?



    

                   

You're not his perfect little angel anymore,

are you?



    

                   

Oh, no.



    

                   

Now, you're a dirty little whore...



    

                   

just like me.



    

                   

I've turned you into me.



    

                   

You mean, all of this...



    

                   

Everything was about a boy?



    

                   

Not very original, granted.



    

                   

But you know that green-eyed monster

can be a real bitch.



    

                   

You never wanted to be Anne Frank,

did you?



    

                   

Oh, yes, I did.



    

                   

And then I wanted to get fired,

establish a motive...



    

                   

make everybody think

I had something against Mr. Anderson.



    

                   

Then a little accidental racial slur...



    

                   

and everything fell into place.



    

                   

I mean, my God, Brittany...



    

                   

it's like the whole world is this orchestra,

and I'm the conductor.



    

                   

- I thought you were my friend.

- I was.



    

                   

But you stole my boyfriend, Brittany.



    

                   

But, Kimberly, Randa...



    

                   

Randa died because of this!



    

                   

Every war has its casualties.



    

                   

Just ask my brother.



    

                   

Oh, my God.



    

                   

You're a fucking psycho.



    

                   

Some things I borrowed from you.



    

                   

I never want to speak to you

or see you again.



    

                   

You psycho!



    

                   

Cody, you are almost as funny

as Jerry Lewis.



    

                   

Really?



    

                   

That's sweet, man.



    

                   

I feel like I'm going to cry more

than my mom at the end of Beaches.



    

                   

Yeah, laugh it up. Go time.



    

                   

Just like shooting the ducks in a carnival,

you know?



    

                   

They go by in a line, one at a time...



    

                   

and you've got your little rifle.



    

                   

Bam! Bam! Bam!



    

                   

Surely, you must have something to say?



    

                   

My family came here for American dream.

We only found nightmare.



    

                   

- What do you have to say?

- You killed Kenny. You bastard!



    

                   

Well, I guess you can light

a fart on fire, huh?



    

                   

But I have nothing for you.



    

                   

It's cool, don't worry about it.



    

                   

Wait a moment, maybe I do.











  

 
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