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英语剧本《开放的美国学府》

时间:2007-10-27 22:00:36来源: 作者:
Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982)
by Cameron Crowe

FADE IN:



EXT. RIDGEMONT CENTER MALL - NIGHT



From the outside parking lot it looks like an

enormous beached whale. It is the prime hangout for

all the teenagers in the area. Kids mill around the

parking lot or stand by the mall entrance.



INT. RIDGEMONT CENTER MALL



There are three levels of stores underneath a

massive fluorescent roof. Different music comes

from each store. It looks seventies-modern, but

already used and run-down. Groups of kids cruise

the mall, eyeing each other and acting cool.



INT. SWENSON'S ICE-CREAM PARLOR - NIGHT



The teenage waitresses in their peppermint pattie

uniforms are rushing around, trying to keep up with

their orders.



A good-looking man in his mid-twenties enters and

sits. He wears a plastic name tag that says:

"Pacific Stereo Audio Consultant, RON JOHNSON."



Two Swenson's Waitresses pass by with supreme

indifference, and take their orders into the back

kitchen.



INT. SWENSON'S BACK KITCHEN



                   WAITRESS #1

         I think he looks like Richard Gere.



The two Waitresses discuss the issue at hand. One

of them, Linda Barrett, is the seventeen year old,

retired sex queen of Ridgemont High.



                   WAITRESS #1 (CONT'D)

         I think he looks like... Richard

         Gere. (Bruce Springsteen)



                   LINDA

         Did you see his cute little butt?



A third waitress enters.



                   WAITRESS #2 

         Let's talk about C-19.



                   WAITRESS #1 AND LINDA 

         We were!



                   WAITRESS #2 

         I think I'll drop over and change

         the shakers.



                   LINDA 

         No, be cool, that's Stacy's

         section.



Through the entrance, we see Stacy Hamilton. She is

the fifteen-year-old trainee, sweet-looking with

just the last traces of baby fat. She puts down a

glass of water for Ron, spills some and mops it up.



                   WAITRESS #1 

         He's too old for Stacy, she hasn't

         even started high school yet.



A flustered Stacy enters the back kitchen.



                   LINDA 

         How's it going.



                   STACY 

         Do you think that guy's cute?



                   WAITRESS #1 

         In a blow-dryed kind of way.



                   STACY 

         Does anyone else want to take his

         table?



                   LINDA 

         Don't you like him?



                   STACY 

         Yeah, but I fucked up. You can take

         it. Really.



                   LINDA 

         Come on, Stacy, it's your section

         and your man.



                   STACY 

         What should I do?



                   LINDA

         Just take his order, look him in

         the eye and if he says anything

         remotely funny, laugh a lot.



She fluffs up Stacy's hair and gently shoves her

towards the door. Stacy reluctantly exits.



INT. SWENSON'S DINING ROOM



Stacy goes to Ron's table.



                   RON 

         So you working hard or hardly

         working?



Stacy thinks it over, decides it's a joke and

laughs (a little too late). Ron looks at her

soulfully.



                   RON (CONT'D)

         You look like you could still be in

         high school.



                   STACY 

         I know, everyone says that.



He stares at her and she stares back uncomfortably.



                   STACY (CONT'D)

         What can I get for you tonight.



                   RON 

         How about your phone number?



Stacy smiles nervously.



INT. RIDGEMONT MALL - OUTSIDE SWENSON'S - NIGHT



A teenage boy stands in front of an in-mall theatre

across from Swenson's. He wears a stiff over-sized

tuxedo suit. He is Mark "The Rat" Ratner, a ticket

taker on the job.



Mike Damone, a transplanted Easterner, bops over

from the record store, eyeing every girl he passes.

He stops at the movie theatre.



                   THE RAT 

         Do you ever look at those girls who

         work at Swenson's? They're

         beautiful. And I have to stand out

         here and watch them six nights a

         week.



                   DAMONE 

         You should work for yourself.



Two Junior High Kids spot Damone, walk up to him.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         What can I do for you, gentlemen?



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #1

         You the guy with the Van Halen

         tickets?



                   DAMONE

         I could be.



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #2

         What do you want for something in

         the first ten rows?



                   DAMONE

         Twenty bucks apiece.



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #1

         Those tickets were only twelve

         fifty!



                   DAMONE

         So don't buy 'em.



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #2

              (to friend)

         All the other scalpers are sold

         out, Arnold.



Damone reacts indignantly.



                   DAMONE 

         Scalper? You call me a scalper? I

         perform a service, my friends. The

         service costs money. Now do you

         want the tickets or not?



The Kids look at each other.



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #1 

         Are you sure you can't go any

         lower.



                   DAMONE 

         These are my special back-to-school

         prices.



                   JUNIOR HIGH KID #2 

         We'll take 'em.



Damone reaches inside his pants pocket for a wad of

tickets.



EXT. CARL'S JR. - NIGHT



At the other end of the mall is a neon-lit Carl's

Jr. Hamburger Restaurant. If Swenson's was the warm

up, this is the main attraction of the Ridgemont

Mall.



INT. CARL'S JR.



Back-to-school banners hang from the walls. Many

kids are lined up at the counters. In the middle of

the kitchen, directing all the orders, is a

seventeen year old named Brad. He moves

confidently, observing the fryer, checking cup

supply, and giving an affectionate squeeze to a

pretty cashier named Lisa. She lets him kiss her,

but only once.



A teenage Customer shouts to Brad from the front

counter.



                   CUSTOMER 

         Hey Brad! I waited till you came

         on! I wanted your fries.



Brad smiles, walks over to the fryer and discards

the fries left from the previous shift. He shouts

to the other employees as he puts in a new batch,

"his" batch.



                   BRAD 

         We need fifteen Superstars, David!



                   FELLOW EMPLOYEE #1 

         Okay, Brad!



                   BRAD 

         I'll take care of the fry orders!

         Just get me the Superstars!



                   FELLOW EMPLOYEE #2 

         Fish sandwiches!



Brad spots three surfers sitting in the dining

area. None of them are wearing shirts.



                   BRAD 

         Hey you guys! You had shirts on

         when you came in here.



ANGLE ON THE MAIN SURFER



a bleary kid sitting at the head of the table. He

runs a hand through his long, stringy blond hair.

After a time, he speaks.



                   SPICOLI 

         Something happened to them, mon.



                   BRAD 

         Come on, Spicoli. Why don't you

         just put your shirts back on? See

         the sign?



ANGLE ON HANDWRITTEN SIGN IN WINDOW



that reads: "No Shirts, No Shoes, No Dice"



INT. CARL'S JR.



A store manager, Dennis Taylor, bustles up to Brad.



                   DENNIS 

         Any problems?



                   BRAD 

         No, just a couple of surfers with

         no shirts on. I took care of it,

         Dennis.



ANGLE ON SURFERS



grumbling, putting shirts back on. It pains them.



Dennis heads back to his office when he sees

something in the trash bin.



                   DENNIS 

         Did you throw away those fries,

         Hamilton?



                   BRAD 

         They were left over from the last

         shift.



                   DENNIS 

         Those were perfectly good fries,

         Hamilton. 

              (glares at Brad)

         Perfectly good.



                   BRAD 

         But they weren't mine.



Brad laughs, goes back to work.



INT. MALL - LATE NIGHT



It is closed and only a few janitors remain. Stacy

and Linda walk through the large empty mall.



                   STACY 

         He gave me his card. 

              (lovingly)

         'Ron Johnson, Audio Consultant.'



                   LINDA 

              (amused)

         Should we buy a frame for that?



                   STACY 

         Come on, Linda, I haven't had a

         boyfriend all summer. You promised

         when I started working at the mall

         that my life would change... Do you

         think he'll call this week?



                   LINDA 

         Listen, Stace, you want to know

         about guys? I'll tell you. They're

         mostly chicken. Before I met Doug I

         chased after every guy I thought

         was cute. I thought if I gave out a

         vibe they'd get the message and

         call me up. Well, guess what? They

         don't call.



                   STACY 

         So what did you do?



                   LINDA 

         I called them. If I was sitting

         next to a guy and I wanted to sit

         closer, I'd sit closer. If I wanted

         to kiss him, I'd just do it. You

         want Ron Johnson? Grab him.



                   STACY 

         I can't do that.



They pass a janitor cleaning graffiti that says:

LINCOLN SURF NAZIS and MAGGOT LUST FOR THE DUST.



                   LINDA 

         Face it. With some guys you have to

         make the first move. A lot of guys

         are just... wussies.



                   STACY 

         Really?



                   LINDA 

         Stacy, what are you waiting for?

         You're fifteen. I did it when I was

         thirteen. It's no huge thing. It's

         just sex. If you don't, one of the

         other girls will.



                   STACY 

              (cute)

         He was hot, wasn't he?



                   LINDA 

         If I didn't have a fiance in

         Chicago, I'd go for it.



A young Girl runs and catches up with Linda and

Stacy.



                   GIRL 

              (breathless)

         Are you Linda Barrett?



                   LINDA 

         Yes.



                   GIRL 

         I'm Carrie Frazier from Toys 'R Us.

         Judy Hinton from May Company told

         me I could ask you something.



Linda nods.



                   GIRL (CONT'D)

         I have this situation with my

         boyfriend, and I wanted to... 

              (looks at Stacy, then

              whispers in Linda's ear)



Linda listens thoughtfully, then clicks into her

"sex expert" mode.



                   LINDA 

         Okay, are you over sixteen?



The Girl nods.



                   LINDA (CONT'D)

         All right, what you want to do is

         go to the Free Clinic and tell the

         doctor that you have sex regularly 

         - several times a week -- and that

         you need Nornel One Plus Fifty's.



                   GIRL 

         And they don't call my parents?



                   LINDA 

         Not if you're over sixteen.



                   GIRL

         Okay. Thanks a lot, Linda.



                   LINDA

         And don't let them talk you into a

         diaphragm either.



The Girl thanks Linda again. Linda and Stacy get to

the back exit of the mall and Linda uses a key to

open the door.



                   STACY

         I can't believe I start high school

         tomorrow.



                   LINDA

         Believe it.



They exit the mall, into the night.



EXT. RIDGEMONT SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL - DAY



We see all the elements of the first day of school.

The students carry new books, explore new lockers,

begin to stake out their ground.



Someone has taken the steel letters from the green

vanguard out front. It reads: "IDG MON SENOR HI

HO."



The rest of Ridgemont High is covered with toilet

paper. And a black spray paint message along the

side of the front office building reads, "LINCOLN

SURF NAZIS."



EXT. RIDGEMONT PARKING LOT - DAY



Brad pulls into the Ridgemont High parking lot. He

drives a beat-up, four-door model LTD sedan. Three

friends wait for him near his parking space.

They are dressed in the same golf caps with brand

logos on the front like CAT, NATIONAL and CHAINSAW.



                   BUDDY #1

         Hamilton!



                   BUDDY #2

         The cruising vessel! Hey -- Yooooo!



Brad climbs out of his car and pats it admiringly.



                   BRAD

         Six more payments, gentlemen.



Brad joins his friends, and they walk towards the

gymnasium.



EXT. RIDGEMONT PARKING LOT



We see a shiny, new, blue Mustang whip into the

parking lot. Students scatter from the parking

space. Behind the wheel is football star Charles

Jefferson. A huge, black kid. The halls at

Ridgemont part for Charles Jefferson.



Rat and Damone are in the parking lot. Damone

surrounded by underclassmen (customers) selling

tickets.



                   DAMONE 

         See that Mustang? U.C.L.A. gave

         Charles Jefferson that car when he

         was a sophomore.



The underclassmen are impressed. They watch as

Jefferson opens his car door and stands to his full

height, over six-foot tall. He opens his trunk and

pulls out no books, just a football duffel bag. He

slowly walks by Damone, Rat and the underclassmen.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         How ya doing! That car looks great,

         Charles!



Jefferson gives Damone a death glare.



                   JEFFERSON 

         Don't... fuck... with... it.



He moves on. Damone resumes selling tickets.



                   DAMONE 

         Shit, that's my man.



EXT. RIDGEMONT PARKING LOT



We see a clutching, smooching couple walk by.

Cheerleader Cindy Carr and her boyfriend, Gregg

Adams.



EXT. RIDGEMONT PARKING LOT - DAY



The Four Stoners (from Carl's Jr.) tumble out of a

van in the parking lot. They head towards the

gymnasium.



INT. RIDGEMONT GYMNASIUM - DAY



Standing by the A-B-C-D-E registration counter in

the gymnasium, Brad waits to pick up his red ad

card. He stands surrounded by his buddies. They nod

vigorously at everything Brad says. As he talks,

fellow students all say hello or pat him as they

pass.



One troubled-looking boy, Arnold, walks up to Brad.



                   ARNOLD

         Brad, can I talk to you a minute?



                   BRAD

         Arnold. What's happening?



Arnold speaks confidentially to Brad.



                   ARNOLD

         Brad, I really fuckin' hate

         McDonald's, man. Ever since they

         started in with the chicken,

         everything went downhill.



                   BRAD

         You want to work at Carl's?



                   ARNOLD

         Oh, man, if you could swing

         something there, I'd do anything

         for you. I want to work with you

         guys.



                   BRAD

         I can probably get you in there.

         Just let me talk to Dennis Taylor.



                   ARNOLD

         All right!!



Brad notices Stacy and nods with complete inner

cool.



                   STACY

         Hi, Brad.



                   BRAD

         Sis.



                   BRAD'S BUDDIES

         Hey, Stacy.



                   STACY

         Hi... Where's Lisa?



                   BRAD

         Everyone wants to know where Lisa

         is. How should I know where Lisa

         is?

              (to buddies)

         What am I gonna do? Now my little

         sister goes to the same high

         school. The party's over.

              (to Stacy)

         So who do you have first period?



                   STACY

         U.S. History. Mr. Hand.



                   BRAD

         Hey-yo.



                   DAVID 

         Hey-yoooooooooo.



                   STACY 

              (concerned)

         What's wrong with Mr. Hand?



                   BRAD 

         Nothing... if you like 'Hawaii Five

         O.' You better get in class, Stacy.

         That's not the one to be late to.



Stacy hurries off.



                   RICH 

              (as soon as she is gone)

         Your sister is really turning into

         a fox.



                   BRAD

         You should see her in the morning.



                   BRAD'S BUDDIES

         Hey-yooooooooooo.



INT. U.S. HISTORY CLASS - DAY



Stacy barely slips in the door before the final

attendance bell sounds. She finds a seat just as

the teacher's cubicle door opens at the back of the

classroom. A tall figure comes barreling down the

aisle. He is Mr. Hand. The man makes a double-speed

step to the door at the front of the class, kicks

the door shut and locks it. The windows rattle in

their frames. Stacy watches, wide-eyed, at her

first high school class.



                   MR. HAND 

         Aloha. My name is Mr. Hand.



Mr. Hand writes his name on the green chalkboard

before his class. Every letter is a small explosion

of chalk.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

              (almost sweetly)

         I have but one question for you on

         our first morning 'together.' 

              (pause)

         Can you attend my class? Pakalo?...

         Understand?... History has proven

         us one basic fact. Man does not do

         anything that is not for his own

         good. It is for your own good that

         you attend my class. And if you

         can't make it... I can make you.



An impatient knock begins at the front door of the

classroom.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         We have a twenty-question quiz

         every Friday. It will cover all the

         material we've dealt with during

         the week. There will be no make-up

         exams. It's important that you all

         have your Land of Truth and Liberty

         textbooks by Wednesday. At the

         latest.



The knock continues.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Your grade is the average of all

         your quizzes, plus the midterm and

         final, which counts for one-third.

         Got it?



The mystery knocker tries a lazy calypso beat on

the front door. No one in Mr. Hand's U.S. History

class dares mention it, much less answer it.



Stacy grips her desk with the tension of her first

day.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Also. There will be no eating in

         this class. You get used to doing

         your own business on your own time.

         That's one demand I make. I don't

         like staying after class with you

         on detention. That's my time. I

         don't like wasting it. Just like

         you wouldn't want me to come to

         your house some evening and discuss

         U.S. History on your time. Pakalo?



Hand finally turns, as if he has just noticed the

sound at the door and opens the door an inch.

Jeffrey Spicoli stands in the doorway, red eyes

glistening. His long, blond hair is still wet and

streaming down the back of his white peasant shirt.

He grins, oblivious to such trivial matters as

attendance bells. A Student sitting near Stacy

turns to his friends.



                   STUDENT 

         That guy has been stoned since the

         third grade.



                   MR. HAND 

         Yes?



                   SPICOLI 

         Yeah. I'm registered for this

         class.



                   MR. HAND 

         What class?



                   SPICOLI 

         This is U.S. History, right? I saw

         the globe in the window.



                   MR. HAND

              (appears enthralled)

         Really?



Spicoli holds his red ad card up to the crack in

the door.



                   SPICOLI 

         Can I come in?



                   MR. HAND 

              (swinging door open)

         Oh, please. I get so lonely when

         that third attendance bell rings

         and I don't see all my kids here.



Spicoli laughs. He is the only one.



                   SPICOLI 

         Sorry I'm late. This new schedule

         is totally confusing.



Mr. Hand takes the red ad card and reads from it

with utter fascination.



                   MR. HAND 

         Mr. Spicoli?



                   SPICOLI 

         That's the name they gave me.



Mr. Hand slowly tears the card into little pieces

and sprinkles the pieces over his wastebasket.

Spicoli watches in disbelief. His hands are frozen

in the process of removing his backpack.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         You just ripped my card in two!



                   MR. HAND 

         Yes.



                   SPICOLI 

         Hey, bud. What's your problem?



Mr. Hand moves to within inches of Spicoli's face.



                   MR. HAND 

         No problem at all. I think you know

         where the front office is.



It takes a moment for the words to work their way

out of Jeff Spicoli's mouth.



                   SPICOLI 

         You... dick.



In the tense moment that follows, no one in the

class is sure what might happen.



Mr. Hand simply turns away from Jeff Spicoli as if

he ceased to exist and coolly continues his

lecture.



                   MR. HAND 

         I've taken the time to print up a

         complete schedule of class quizzes,

         and the chapters they cover. Please

         pass them back to the desks behind

         you...



Hand begins passing out stacks of purple

mimeographed sheets.



ANGLE ON STUDENTS



all smelling the purple mimeographed sheets.



Still standing in the doorway, hyperventilating

with fifteen-year-old adrenalin, is Jeff Spicoli.

After a time, he fishes a few bits of his ad card

out of the wastebasket and huffs out of the room.



EXT. RIDGEMONT LUNCH COURT - AFTERNOON



It's packed. The school's outdoor dining area is

actually just a small courtyard lined with fast

food machines and dominated by a large oak tree in

the center. Standing at the center of lunch court,

under the large oak tree, is Brad Hamilton and his

golf-cap Buddies.



                   BRAD 

         You hear about the surfer in Mr.

         Hand's class?



His Buddies shake their heads.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

         Told Hand to fuck off.



                   BRAD'S BUDDIES 

         Whoa!_



Brad sees another friend pass through lunch court.



                   BRAD 

         Thompson!



Brad waits for him to pass.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

         I hear Thompson got canned at Bob's

         this summer.



                   BUDDY #1 

         Yeah. They hacked his hours, so he

         quit.



                   BRAD 

         Where is he now?



                   BUDDY #1 

         Making two eighty at Seven-Eleven.



                   BRAD

         Man.

              (pause)

         They make you wear a fuckin' candy

         stripe suit over there.



                   BUDDY #2 

         Poor guy.



                   BRAD 

         Poor guy.



EXT. LUNCH COURT - ANGLE ON THE 200 BUILDING

BATHROOM



near the outer rim of lunch court. Jeff Spicoli

comes stumbling out into the daylight, surrounded

by a small group of Ridgemont Stoners. Marijuana

smoke billows out behind them.



                   STONER BUDDY #1

         It was so bitchin', mon. Everybody

         is talking about it.



                   STONER BUDDY #2

         Totally.



                   SPICOLI

         The motherfucker pissed me off.



                   STONER BUDDY #2

         Totally. You don't have to take

         that shit.



                   SPICOLI

         I didn't take that shit.



They all laugh, flip hair out of their eyes.



                   STONER BUDDY #1 

         Tell us again. What happened after

         he ripped up your ad card?



                   SPICOLI 

         I called him a dick. And then I

         reached for his class notes, and I

         ripped 'em up. I said, 'Hey bud.

         Two can play this game.'



The Stoners go wild.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         I'll tell you this. If he hassles

         me again, I can't be responsible

         for what happens... you know why?



                   STONER BUDDY #1 

         Because he's a fuckin' dick!



                   SPICOLI 

         You got it.

              (pause)

         Gimme a dollar.



One surfer digs out a dollar for Spicoli. They look

out at lunch court, see it teeming with straight

kids. They turn and walk towards the parking lot.



EXT. LUNCH COURT - ANGLE ON STACY AND LINDA



as they walk onto lunch court. They take a seat on

the outskirts of the area and watch all the

students crowding onto the eating area.



                   LINDA 

         I hear some surfer pulled a knife

         on Mr. Hand this morning.



                   STACY 

         No way! He just called him a dick.



                   LINDA 

         God. People exaggerate so much at

         this school.



The school couple, Cindy and Gregg walk by.



                   CINDY 

         Hi, Linda. God, you look so great.



                   LINDA 

         Hi, you guys. This is Stacy. Stacy,

         this is Gregg Adams and Cindy Carr.



                   GREGG AND CINDY 

         Hi, Stacy.



Stacy smiles. Gregg and Cindy move on, repeating

the same scene a few feet away.



                   LINDA 

         If there's one thing that never

         changes... it's a cheerleader.



Stacy turns to see a girl with short, black hair

passing by, wearing tight black spandex pants, and

dark lipstick.



                   STACY 

         Linda. That girl looks just like

         Pat Benatar.



                   LINDA 

         I know.



They watch her pass.



                   LINDA (CONT'D)

         Actually, there are three girls at

         Ridgemont who have cultivated the

         Pat Benatar look.



Linda gestures out on lunch court.



ANGLE ON ANOTHER PAT BENATAR LOOK-ALIKE



wearing pink spandex pants and short-cropped black

hair with dark lipstick.



ANGLE ON STILL ANOTHER PAT BENATAR LOOK-ALIKE



wearing blue spandex pants and short black hair.

She stands a good distance away from the other two.



                   LINDA (CONT'D)

         None of them talk to each other.



Linda looks at them with bemusement but Stacy is

wondering.



                   STACY 

         Do you think guys find that

         attractive?



                   LINDA 

         Oh, give me a break, Stacy. You're

         much prettier than them.



They sit and eat their lunches. Linda has her

perennial diet lunch of yogurt and raw vegetables.



                   STACY 

         Yeah but they look more

         sophisticated. You'd probably think

         they'd be better in bed.



                   LINDA 

         What do you mean 'better in bed.'

         You either do it or you don't.



                   STACY 

         No there are variables that, like,

         I might not be good at.



                   LINDA 

         What variables?



                   STACY 

              (shyly)

         Like, you know, giving blow jobs.



                   LINDA 

         What's the big deal?



                   STACY 

         Well I never did it.



                   LINDA 

         There's nothing to it.



She takes out a carrot stick and eases it down her

throat. Stacv tries one but chokes.



                   LINDA (CONT'D)

         You just have to practice a little

         first. 

              (feels her throat)

         Relax these muscles. Think of your

         throat as an open tunnel.



The girls try sliding the carrot sticks down their

throats without gagging.



ANGLE ON A BOY



at the next table; sees them and points them out to

his companions.



                   STACY 

         What happens... don't laugh at me,

         but when a guy has an orgasm... you

         know, like, how much comes out.



Stacy stops practicing and looks horrified. Linda

laughs.



                   LINDA 

         Just kidding. About 10cc.



                   STACY 

              (enlightened)

         Oh! That's where that group got its

         name from.



They continue practicing as the boys look on. Stacy

manages to get almost a whole carrot down her

throat to Linda's amazement.



The group of boys break out in applause.



Stacy looks very embarrassed.



INT. BIOLOGY LAB - DAY



The class is situated so that all students sit at

Bunson burner tables lining the room.



Pat is seated at one of the tables and Stacy takes

a seat nearby; she looks at the ledge in front of

her. It contains a pig embryo. She listens to the

conversation next to her.



                   GIRL STUDENT 

         I'll tell you right now. I'm not

         going. I'll get sick or something.

         I'm not going into a room with a

         bunch of dead guys.



                   ARNOLD 

         You'll go. It's part of the final.



                   GIRL STUDENT 

              (a Pat Benatar)

         Have you heard what they do? I'm

         serious. Have you heard?



                   BOY STUDENT 

         What?



                   ARNOLD 

         The bodies are dissected, Mike, and

         Mr. Vargas pulls out parts of the

         dead body and holds them up. Okay?



                   BOY STUDENT 

         You mean he reaches in and pulls

         this stuff out?



                   GIRL STUDENT 

         Yes.



                   BOY STUDENT 

         Like a heart?



                   GIRL STUDENT 

         Hearts, lungs, guts...



Stacy strains to hear more, just as Mr. Vargas -- a

diminutive man holding a coffee mug -- enters the

class.



                   MR. VARGAS 

         Good day, everyone! I just switched

         to Sanka. I'm running a little slow

         today, so have a heart.



ANGLE ON THE RAT



He is riveted on Stacy Hamilton, swooning.



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



INT. STACY'S ROOM - NIGHT



We see Stacy's room, a young girl's room with

posters and frilly pillows. Stacy is in bed, and

her Mother is just leaving the room.



                   MOTHER

         Sleep tight, Stacy.



                   STACY

         Good night, Mom.



Her Mother shuts off the light, exits. Stacy pulls

back the covers. She is fully dressed.



EXT. STACY'S WINDOW - NIGHT



We see the window to Stacy's room slide slowly

open, and watch her slip outside. She hikes down a

drainage pipe to the street.



EXT. STREET CORNER - NIGHT



A brown MG pulls up. Stacy jumps from the shadows

and hops in. The car drives away.



INT. RON'S CAR - NIGHT



Ron sits behind the wheel, humming casually along

to the music on his car stereo.



Ron has on a light-brown leather jacket. He looks

like a contestant for "The Dating Game."



                   STACY

              (a little nervous)

         Thanks for picking me up.



                   RON

         No problem.



He speeds off, turning up the radio to sing along.



                   RON (CONT'D)

         'The Cuer-vo Gold, the fi-ine

         Columbian.'

              (eyes Stacy)

         You look nice tonight.



                   STACY

         Thanks. So do you.



                   RON

         Where do you feel like going?



                   STACY

         I don't know. Wherever you want.



                   RON

         How about the point?



                   STACY 

              (nervously)

         The point sounds fine.



                   RON 

              (looks at her knowingly)

         All right, the point it is.



We see Stacy's anxious face, as the car speeds up

Ridgemont Drive, with music.



EXT. THE POINT - NIGHT



Stacy and Ron sit in the car, listening to music.

The "point" is a natural lookout spot that lovers

can "discover." It is behind the baseball field and

dugout of Ridgemont High School.



Stacy and Ron get out of the car and walk to the

baseball dugout.



INT. DUGOUT - NIGHT



They sit side-by-side. Above them, a single light

bulb shines a very private fifty watts on things.



                   STACY

         That's a nice shirt.



                   RON

         Thanks. Thanks a lot.



Silence. They look at each other, look away.



                   RON (CONT'D)

         It's very warm out tonight.



                   STACY 

         It is. It's very warm. I wonder how

         long it will last?



Ron leans over and kisses Stacy lightly on the

cheek. Stacy sits quietly for a moment, thinking,

was that the first move? Then she lunges at Ron and

kisses him square on the mouth. At first surprised,

Ron then holds her there and kisses her in return.

After a time, he breaks away.



                   RON

         Are you really nineteen?



                   STACY

         Yes... I am really nineteen.



They continue making out.



                   RON

         I think I better take you home.



                   STACY

         What about those other guys you

         live with?



                   RON

         No. I mean back to your home.



But they make no moves in any direction. They

continue making out. Ron begins unbuttoning her

blouse and massaging Stacy's breasts. A moment

later, he tugs at her pants. Awkwardly, she starts

to help him. He tilts her backward onto the

concrete dugout bench. They kiss feverishly, her

hand pulling off her shoes, then her pants. Ron

goes to work.



                   RON (CONT'D)

              (whispers)

         Is this your first time?



                   STACY

         Yes.



STACY'S POINT OF VIEW



as she feels a man enter her for the first time, we

see the graffiti above her:

					Surf Nazis 

					Lincoln was here --  Sieg Heil 

					Led Zeppelin 

					Dan y Roberto (Disco Fags)



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



EXT. SCHOOL LOCKERS - DAY



Stacy is standing by her locker, twirling the

combination. She is joined by Linda Barrett.



                   LINDA 

         Was it great?



                   STACY 

         It was okay.



                   I LINDA

         You'll always remember your first

         time.



                   STACY 

         It was nice.



                   LINDA 

         So tell me, do you like Ron? Is it

         serious?



                   STACY 

         Come on, Linda. It's just sex.



                   LINDA 

         Hey! That's my line!



They both laugh and walk down the hall.



EXT. HAMILTON HOME - LATE AFTERNOON



Stacy arrives home. The Hamilton home has that

anonymous prepackaged tract look, like many others

in this lower-middle class neighborhood.



Brad washes his car in the driveway and listens to

the car radio.



                   BRAD 

         Mom says to clean up the pool.



                   STACY 

         Why can't you do it?



                   BRAD 

         Your friends use the pool. Your

         friends messed it up.



                   STACY 

         Your friends use the pool too.



                   BRAD 

         I take out the garbage.



                   STACY 

         Don't strain yourself.



Stacy bristles, and heads inside the front door.



INT. HAMILTON LIVING ROOM - AFTERNOON



The furniture in the Hamilton living room looks

like it was gleaned for a sale at Pic 'N Save.

Through the living room, one can see a very small,

kidney-shaped pool.



Stacy checks an erasable telephone message sheet

near the refrigerator. There are two names on it:

BRAD/STACY. Brad's side is filled with messages.

Stacy's is empty.



She notices a summer bouquet floral arrangement.

Stacy reads the attached note. It reads: "Memories

of You, Ron Johnson." She quickly gathers it up and

carries it back outside. She fans the door several

times to dispel the odor.



EXT. HAMILTON DRIVEWAY - AFTERNOON



                   STACY 

         Brad! Have Mom or Dad seen this?



                   BRAD 

         They're not home yet.



                   STACY 

         Brad, what would you say if I asked

         you to just put these flowers in

         the trunk of the Cruising Vessel

         and get rid of them at work?



                   BRAD 

         I'd say... who the hell is Ron

         Johnson?



                   STACY 

         I'll explain everything later.



Brad nods, as Stacy pushes the flowers into his

arms.



INT. DAMONE'S ROOM - AFTERNOON



Damone expertly fills two glasses three-quarters

full of Kahlua, then adds a few drops of milk.

Music is playing on a nearby speaker. Damone hands

The Rat a drink and checks himself out in his

mirror.



                   DAMONE

         See that moustache coming in, Rat?



There is only a hint of peach fuzz, but he grooms

it anyway.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         See? You can almost press it out.



Damone turns around. His friend is preoccupied.



                   THE RAT

         I am in love.



Damone takes a sip of his drink, looks at The Rat.



                   DAMONE

         You... are a wuss. Part wimp. Part

         pussy.



                   THE RAT

         What do you mean -- wuss? This girl

         is my exact type. It's her.

         Definitely her.



                   DAMONE 

              (distracted)

         It's definitely your mama.



                   THE RAT

         Damone, you gotta listen to me.



Damone quits puttering around his room with the

Kahlua and milk. He grabs a chair and straddles it.



                   DAMONE

         All right... where did you see her?



                   THE RAT

         She's in my biology class.



                   DAMONE

         Did you get her number?



                   THE RAT

         No.



                   DAMONE

         Did you get her name?



                   THE RAT 

         No. It's too soon.



                   DAMONE 

         It's never too soon! Girls decide

         how far to let you go in the first

         five minutes.



                   THE RAT 

         Well, what do you want me to do? Go

         up to this strange girl in my

         biology class and say, 'Hello! I'd

         like you to take your clothes off

         and jump on me?'



                   DAMONE 

              (thoughtfully)

         I would. Yeah.



                   THE RAT

         Really?



                   DAMONE 

         I can see it all now. This is going

         to be just like the girl you fell

         in love with at Fotomat this

         summer. You bought forty bucks of

         fuckin' film and you never even

         talked to her.



                   THE RAT 

              (woeful)

         You tell me, Mike. What do I do?



                   DAMONE

         Okay. Okay. 

              (sighs, but loves it)

         Here's what you do.



Damone gets up, moves to the door.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         You start from the second you walk

         into biology. Don't just walk...

         move across the room.



He saunters over to the chair.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         Don't talk to her. Let her know.

         Use your face. Use your body. Use

         everything. This is what I do. I

         just sent out the vibe and I have

         personally found that... girls do

         respond. Something happens.



                   THE RAT

         Of course something happens. You

         put the vibe out to thirty million

         chicks, you know something's gonna

         happen.



                   DAMONE

         That's the idea, Rat. That's The

         Attitude.



                   THE RAT

         The Attitude? The Attitude dictates

         that you don't care if she comes,

         stays, lays or prays. Whatever

         happens, your toes are still

         tappin'.

         When you are the cruelest and the

         coolest... then you have The

         Attitude.



Damone knocks down the rest of his drink, and we...



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



INT. CARL'S JR. KITCHEN - NIGHT



We see Brad operating at full throttle in the

kitchen, and taking a moment to sneak a kiss with

his girlfriend Lisa as she goes to the front

counter to open up a cash register. She allows him

only one kiss.



                   LISA 

         Were those flowers really for me,

         Brad?



                   BRAD 

         Of course.



                   LISA 

         How much did they cost?



                   BRAD 

         Don't worry about it.



She gives him a kiss... on the cheek.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

         Let's go to the Point tonight.



She pulls away.



                   LISA 

         What's there to do at the Point?



Brad shifts his weight, tries to find the right

words.



                   BRAD 

         What's there to do at the Point?

         God, Lisa, we've been going

         together almost two years, and...



                   LISA 

         Brad. I don't want to have to use

         sex as a tool.



                   BRAD 

         Tool? Tool for what? We've been

         going together almost two years!



                   LISA 

         I don't want to talk about it here,

         Brad.



Brad prepares to respond. He squints his eyes,

prepares for a truly sizzling comeback, when Dennis

Taylor, short and prematurely balding assistant

manager of Carl's Jr., comes bustling out of his

back office. He quickly surveys the situation in

the kitchen.



                   TAYLOR 

         Hamilton! You have fifteen double

         cheese to box!



Lisa returns to her cashier post, leaving Brad's

last words stalled in his mouth.



EXT. HAMILTON HOUSE - LATER THAT NIGHT



We see the Hamilton's cul-de-sac home. All the

lights are off in the house at this hour. Except

for Brad's room.



INT. BRAD'S ROOM



Brad is alone in his room. He's prone on his neatly

made bed, reading a paperback book entitled Power

With Class. On the wall of Brad's room is a large

framed photo of a Carl's Jr. hamburger.



Brad hears a muffled knock at his door.



                   BRAD 

         Come on in.



Stacy walks into Brad's room.



                   STACY 

         Thanks for getting rid of those

         flowers.



                   BRAD 

         Don't worry about it. Who sent the

         flowers?



                   STACY 

         It's just some guy I met at

         Swenson's. You don't know him.



                   BRAD 

         I don't care it you tell me or not.

         I got problems of my own.



He begins pacing.



                   STACY 

         Is everything okay at work?



                   BRAD 

         Are you kidding? Work is great. I

         kill at work. I don't even mind Mom

         and Dad making me pay rent.



                   STACY 

         You're going to break up with Lisa,

         aren't you?



                   BRAD 

         I've been doing some thinking. It's

         my last school year. I'm a single,

         successful guy. I think I want my

         freedom.



                   STACY 

         Why? Because she won't sleep with

         you?



                   BRAD 

         Where did you hear that?



                   STACY 

         I'm just guessing.



                   BRAD 

         Well... it's true.



                   STACY 

         Maybe you just need to give her

         some time. She's so nice, Brad.

         Everybody loves Lisa.



                   BRAD

         Everybody loves Lisa. Everybody

         loves Lisa. But everybody doesn't

         have to be her boyfriend.



Suddenly, Stacy pops the question.



                   STACY

         Hey, Brad. Are you still a virgin?



                   BRAD

         Why?



                   STACY

         I don't know. I was just curious.



                   BRAD

         Maybe yes. Maybe no.



                   STACY

         You are a virgin!



                   BRAD

         I didn't say that.



                   STACY

         But your face did!



They laugh. Then Brad turns serious.



                   BRAD 

         Are you still a virgin?



                   STACY 

         Maybe yes. Maybe no.



                   BRAD 

         Don't give me that shit! I know

         you're still a virgin!



Stacy smiles and stands up. She playfully slaps her

brother on the arm and walks down the hallway to

her room. We can see there is less frill and lace

in Stacy's room. The junior high paperbacks are

gone. There are no dolls in sight. 



EXT. MALL PARKING LOT - NIGHT



Linda and Stacy walk past rows of cars. Stacy stops

at a brown MG.



                   STACY 

         There... There's his car. I know

         he's at work tonight. He hasn't

         come into Swenson's since he called

         my house. My mother told him I was

         still at high school, after I told

         him I was nineteen. I guess I

         should tell him I'm fifteen.



                   LINDA

         Don't you dare, you'll never hear

         from him again.



                   STACY

         Does Doug care that you're

         seventeen?



                   LINDA

         Doug sees beyond that stuff to what

         the person inside is like. That's

         why I'm marrying him.



                   STACY

         If he ever calls again I'll say I'm

         eighteen.



                   LINDA

         Boy I am so glad to be through with

         all these games.



They enter the mall.



INT. U.S. HISTORY CLASS - MORNING



We are now several weeks into the school year. Mr.

Hand is dropping test papers on desks like they are

pieces of manure.



                   MR. HAND 

         C... D... F... F... F... three

         weeks we've been talking about the

         Platt Amendment. What are you

         people? On dope? A piece of

         legislation was introduced into

         Congress by Senator John Platt. It

         was passed in 1906. This amendment

         to our Constitution has a profound

         impact upon all of our daily

         liv....



Mr. Hand stops on a dime. He is like a champion

hunting dog that has just picked up the scent. He

scans the room.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Where is Jeff Spicoli?



There is silence in the U.S. history classroom.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         I saw him earlier today near the

         200 Building bathrooms. Is he still

         on campus?



Silence.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Anyone?



One student sitting next to Stacy raises his hand.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Yes, Desmond?



                   DESMOND 

         I saw him by the food machines.



                   MR. HAND 

         How long ago?



                   DESMOND 

         Just before class, sir...



Mr. Hand snaps his fingers, Hawaii Five-O style.



                   MR. HAND 

         Okay. Bring him in.



Desmond hustles out the door.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         What is this fascination with

         truancy? What is it that gets

         inside your heads?



Mr. Hand begins to pace the aisles as he speaks.

Occasionally, for emphasis, he bends down to

lecture directly into the students' faces.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         There are other teachers in this

         school who look the other way at

         truants. 

              (points to attendance clip

              on the doorway)

         It's a little game that you both

         play. They pretend they don't see

         you, you pretend you don't ditch.

         Who pays the price later? You.



Desmond returns to the room with a red-eyed Jeff

Spicoli.



                   SPICOLI 

         Hey! Wait a minute! There's no

         birthday party for me here!



                   MR. HAND

         Thank you, Desmond.

              (to Spicoli)

         What's the reason for your truancy?



                   SPICOLI

         I couldn't make it in time.



                   MR. HAND

              (in top form)

         You mean, you couldn't? Or you

         wouldn't?



                   SPICOLI

         I don't know, mon. The food lines

         took forever.



                   MR. HAND

         Food will be eaten on your time!

              (pause)

         Why are you continuously late for

         this class, Mr. Spicoli? Why do you

         shamelessly waste my time like

         this?



                   SPICOLI

         I don't know.



Mr. Hand appears mesmerized. He then turns and

heads for the board. He writes in long, large

letters as he slams the chalk into the green board.

He writes: "I DON'T KNOW".



                   MR. HAND 

         I like that.



He stands back and admires it. He turns randomly to

Stacy.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         Don't you like that, Miss Hamilton?



                   STACY 

         Yes, sir.



                   MR. HAND 

         I really like that too. 'I don't

         know'... that's nice. 'Mr. Hand,

         will I pass this class?' 'Gee, Mr.

         Spicoli, I don't know'. I like

         that.

         I think I'm going to leave your

         words on this board for all my

         classes to enjoy. Giving you full

         credit, of course, Mr. Spicoli.



We hear the blare of the dismissal bell. Stacy and

the other students get up to leave. Spicoli stays

in place. He has just figured out a truly bitchin'

comeback... and his mouth is forming the first

word, when Mr. Hand cuts him off.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         You can go now.



Hand turns back to his desk. The rest of the

students have already left. Spicoli's audience is

gone. He shrugs and lopes out the door.



INT. RIDGEMONT MALL - AFTERNOON



It's Christmas time at the Ridgemont Mall. All

three tiers are strung with neon lights, and we

hear the sound of the bell-ringing Santas.



INT. SWENSON'S - AFTERNOON



Stacy and Linda are enjoying a brief lull in the

Christmas season madness. They sit at the sundae

bar. Stacy looks forlorn, almost red-eyed, as she

makes a sundae.



                   LINDA 

         You've got to get used to working

         Christmas. People are always

         screaming and yelling... then they

         get home and they're all

         Christmasy.



                   STACY 

         I think Christmas brings out the

         worst in people.



                   LINDA 

         I guess Ron hasn't called yet.



                   STACY 

         Not since November.



Linda nods her head, always the coach.



                   LINDA 

         Stacy, it doesn't look good for the

         relationship.



Stacy continues making her ice cream, slapping the

scoops onto the stainless steel dish.



                   STACY 

              (sighs)

         Don't you think it meant anything

         to him. Even if I am fifteen?



                   LINDA 

         Stacy. What does it matter? He's a

         stereo salesman. You want to marry

         him? You want to have kids with

         him? You want this guy to come

         home, fifty years old, and he's

         still got that little Pacific

         Stereo badge on? Come on.



ANGLE ON GREGG AND CINDY



who are seated at a back table, feeding each other.



Stacy looks at her finished sundae.



                   STACY 

         I should quit this job. I'm going

         to get so fat working here...

         nobody will ever take me out.



                   LINDA 

         Stacy. How many times do I have to

         tell you? You are really going to

         be beautiful... someday.



                   STACY 

         Thanks a lot.



Linda punches Stacy lightly on the shoulder.



                   LINDA 

         Hey -- Ron Johnson? It's his loss.



We follow Stacy, as she walks into the dining room

to serve the sundae.



INT. WHEREHOUSE RECORDS - MALL - DAY



We see a group of buzz-cut young toughs, walking in

formation, hunched over, sneering and wearing

sleeveless U.S. Army fatigue jackets. None of these

damaged-looking kids is over the age of fourteen.

They pass to reveal this legend on their backs:

LINCOLN SURF NAZIS.



Angle on Mike Damone and Mark Ratner, who are

standing by the upcoming concert list posted on the

door to Wherehouse Records. Damone sees the Surf

Nazis pass, turns to Mark Ratner, who is still

wearing his Cinema Four jacket.



                   DAMONE 

         The business is changing, Rat. I'll

         tell you, these kids today... they

         don't even listen to Aerosmith.



                   THE RAT 

         I hear they all dress like that at

         Lincoln now.



                   DAMONE 

         There used to be three or four of

         those guys. Now we see 'em every

         time we come to the mall.



Damone is approached by a couple of young ticket

Customers.



                   CUSTOMER #1 

         Got any Blue Oyster Cult tickets?



                   DAMONE 

         No Cult. I ate twenty-four pairs of

         Blue Oyster Cult tickets last time

         around. I was this close to working

         at 7-11. No Cult.



Suddenly we see all ticket business stop. Damone

and his customers see someone menacingly coming

directly for them. The small crowd parts as Charles

Jefferson, football duffel bag in hand, walks up.

With him is a thick, tough, miniature version of

himself. This is Little Charles. They both stop in

front of Damone.



                   JEFFERSON 

              (after long look)

         When is Earth, Wind and Fire

         coming?



                   DAMONE 

              (respectfully)

         I'm really not sure. I haven't

         heard anything yet, but I'll let

         you know the second there is the

         slightest news, sir.



                   JEFFERSON

         I'm taking my little brother.



                   DAMONE

         Excellent. So that will be two

         tickets... All right. Fine, sir.



Jefferson and L.C. push past the customers.



                   CUSTOMER #2 

         Wow. He really lives here. I

         thought he just flew in for the

         football games.



                   DAMONE 

              (gaining composure)

         Shit, he's my man. He knows where

         to come for tickets.



Damone turns to The Rat.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         Well, Rat. Are you ready for the

         moment of truth?



The Rat adjusts his jacket, and nods.



                   THE RAT 

         She is immune to my charms.



They walk together towards Swenson's, as The Rat

drapes his aqua-blue Cinema Four jacket around his

shoulders, like a French film director. Damone

walks a few steps, then stops Rat.



                   DAMONE 

         Hey, Rat.



                   THE RAT 

         Yeah?



                   DAMONE 

         Ace the jacket.



The Rat considers the suggestion, gets rid of the

jacket. They continue towards Swenson's.



EXT. SWENSON'S - DAY



The Rat pulls open the door to Swenson's. He walks

toward the counter to Stacy Hamilton.



                   STACY 

         Hi. May I help you?



The Rat feels the beginnings of cold panic, but

barges through nonetheless.



                   THE RAT 

         Yes. I have two questions. I was

         curious...



His voice becomes a shade deeper. He begins to pull

The Attitude together.



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         What do you do with the jackets

         people leave here?



                   STACY 

              (smiling)

         We keep them.



                   THE RAT 

         You keep them.



                   STACY 

         We keep them, in case the people

         come back.



She reaches under the counter and pulls out a

cardboard box with some rumbled jackets and other

items.



                   STACY (CONT'D)

         Here they are. You can look through

         it, if you want.



The Rat chuckles to himself, struggling with The

Attitude.



                   THE RAT 

         It's cool. It would take too much

         time to go through all that stuff.

         I'll just pick up a new one.



Stacy smiles. He's obviously awkward, and she likes

it.



                   STACY 

         What's your other question?



                   THE RAT 

         My other question is... can-I-have

         your-phone-number-so-I-can-ask-you

         out-sometime?



To The Rat's surprise, Stacy continues smiling.



                   STACY 

         Do you have a pen? This one's out

         of ink.



                   THE RAT 

         Oh... yes.



He pulls one out of his jacket pocket, gives it to

her. Stacy writes her name and phone number on a

scrap of paper and gives it to him. The Rat looks

at the paper.



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         Stacy. Nice to meet you, Stacy. My

         name is Mark Ratner.



He sticks out his hand, and they shake. We see The

Rat turn around and walk out of Swenson's.



EXT. SWENSON'S - AFTERNOON



The Rat exits with ultimate cool. He sees Damone

waiting just off to the side, talking to some

girls. The Rat nods, gives him the thumbs-up.

Damone returns the gesture. All-Attitude.



EXT. CARL'S JR. - MORNING



Carl's is happening tonight. There are lots of kids

inside. We hear charging rock music -- "Girls Got

Rhythm" by AC/DC -- coming from a radio in the back

kitchen.



INT. CARL'S JR. BATHROOM - MORNING



Inside the bathroom, Brad Hamilton applies the

Carl's scrub brush to a felt tip graffiti message

near the mirror: I EAT BIG HAIRY PUSSY. He pauses

and catches himself in the mirror. He adjusts his

hair.



                   BRAD 

         (talking to mirror) 

         Lisa? I have something to tell you.

         Look, I'm a senior now.

         I'm a single, successful guy and

         I've got to be fair to myself.

         Lisa... I think I need my freedom.



Brad pauses, looks at the mirror soulfully.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

         Aw, don't do that... don't take it

         personally, okay? Please? I knew

         you'd understand, because...



The bathroom door opens -- it's Arnold, the boy who

Brad got a job.



                   ARNOLD 

         Brad! I know you're on your break,

         but would you cover me on register

         three?



Brad nods, exits:



INT. CARL'S JR. COUNTER



Brad stands at the register.



We see a prominent display over Brad's head: TRY

OUR 100% GUARANTEED BREAKFAST. The last of many

harried businessmen customers gets his breakfast

order and takes his seat.



Brad is joined by Dennis Taylor, the Assistant

Manager.



                   DENNIS 

         Come on. Clean that counter off

         Brad. Let's go. Play ball.



                   BRAD 

         Okay, Dennis.



Brad begins polishing the counter and Dennis Taylor

returns to his office at the back of the kitchen.



Brad watches him disappear behind the door that

says: ASSISTANT MANAGER.



As soon as Dennis disappears behind the door, the

one Businessman in the place rises and returns to

the counter.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

              (nervously)

         May I help you?



The Businessman has short, curly brown hair. He

speaks in a whine.



                   BUSINESSMAN 

         Yes. This is not the best breakfast

         I ever ate.



The Businessman points to the huge display over

Brad's head: TRY OUR 100% GUARANTEED BREAKFAST.



                   BUSINESSMAN (CONT'D)

         And I want my money back.



Brad begins searching under the counter.



                   BRAD 

         Well, I believe you have to fill

         out a form. There's a pad right

         around here.



                   BUSINESSMAN 

         No. I want my money back right now.



                   BRAD 

         Well, that's not the way it works,

         really. And you ate most of your

         food already, too...



                   BUSINESSMAN 

         See that sign? It says 100% Money

         Back Guarantee. Do you know the

         meaning of the word 'guarantee'? Do

         they teach you that here? Give me

         my money back.



Brad begins looking to the restroom. "Where's

Arnold?"



                   BRAD 

         I can't do that. But if you wait a

         minute...



                   BUSINESSMAN 

              (as if talking to a

              kindergartner)

         Look. Just put your little hand

         back in the cash register and give

         me my $2.75 back. Okay? 

              (looks at name tag)

         Please, Brad?



                   BRAD

         I'm sorry, sir. Just let me find

         the forms here.



                   BUSINESSMAN

         I am so tired. I am so tired of

         dealing with morons. How hard is it

         to...



Brad looks up from under the counter. No amount of

pay will make him take that kind of insult.



                   BRAD 

         Mister, if you don't shut up, I'm

         gonna kick 100% of your ass.



                   BUSINESSMAN

         Manager!!



"Bam!" The door to the Assistant Manager's office

swings open, and Dennis comes hurtling out of the

back.



                   DENNIS 

         Can I help you, sir? Is there a

         problem?



                   BUSINESSMAN 

         You bet there's a problem! Your

         employee used profanity and

         threatened me with violence! I'm

         shocked, frankly. I've eaten here

         many times and I've always enjoyed

         the service -- until today!



Angle on bathroom door as it opens and Arnold

starts towards the register. He quickly sees the

incident with the irate Businessman and ducks back

inside the bathroom.



                   BUSINESSMAN (CONT'D)

         All I wanted was my money back for

         this breakfast. It was a little

         undercooked. And this young man

         threatened me. Now I plan to write

         a letter! I plan to...



Dennis wheels around to Brad.



                   DENNIS 

         Did you threaten this man or use

         profanity in any way?



                   BRAD 

         He insulted me first. He called me

         a moron.



                   DENNIS

         Did you threaten this customer or

         use profanity in any way?



                   BRAD

         Yes, sir.



                   DENNIS

         You're fired.



Brad looks around, expecting his friends to defend

him. Dave and Rich seem very occupied with their

work. Brad is stunned.



                   DENNIS (CONT'D)

              (to Businessman)

         I'm very sorry this happened to

         you, sir.



                   BUSINESSMAN 

         Thank you very much.



Then Brad unhooks his fryer's apron and throws it

on the counter. He grabs a backpack and walks out

of the place. On the way, he bangs the bathroom

door with his fist.



                   BRAD 

         I hope you had a hell of a piss,

         Arnold.



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



INT. BRAD'S ROOM - DAY



He arrives back in his room and locks the door. He

yanks the burger picture off his wall, dumps it

into the trash. Then he takes it back out of the

trash and cracks the cardboard picture and plastic

frame in half.



DARKNESS



We are in the middle of a deep, dark void. After a

moment, a pinprick of light appears in the

distance. We head towards the light. We are being

led somewhere important.



As we draw still closer, curtains suddenly part to

reveal a wildly cheering studio audience. We hear

the voice of Merv Griffin.



                   MERV GRIFFIN (O.S.) 

         Will you please give a warm welcome

         to... Jeff Spicoli!



The Merv Griffin Show band begins playing a Merv

Griffin Show version of AC/DC's "Highway to Hell".

Someone hands Jeff Spicoli a microphone. He works

the studio audience into a frenzy as he sings the

words to "Highway to Hell": Merv Griffin show

style.



                   SPICOLI 

              (singing)

         'Layin' ladies!             

         Drinkin' wine!                  

         You gotta dollar --

         You're a friend of mine!     

         Gettin' loose!              

         Feelin' fine!                   

         You and me -- It's get down time!

         We're on the Highway to Hell!   

         The Highway to Hell!'



Spicoli finishes up with a spectular pump. The

audience goes wild as Merv Griffin greets him

warmly, and guides Spicoli to his seat. Spicoli

motions for the cheers to die down. Griffin is

obviously happy to see him. He touches Spicoli's

arm lightly.



                   GRIFFIN 

         How've you been?



                   SPICOLI 

         Outrageous, Merv. Nice to be here.

         I feel great.



                   GRIFFIN 

         I was going to say... your eyes

         look a little red.



                   SPICOLI 

         I've been swimming, Merv.



The audience howls. It's a famous Spicoli line.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         Seriously, Merv, everything is

         great.

         I was thinking about picking up

         some hash this weekend, maybe going

         up to the mountains.



                   GRIFFIN 

              (concerned)

         I wanted to talk a little bit about

         school, if I could...



                   SPICOLI

         School.

              (sighs)

         School is no problem. All you have

         to do is go to get the grades. And

         if you know something, all you have

         to do is go about half the time.



                   GRIFFIN 

         How often do you go?



                   SPICOLI 

         I don't go at all.



The audience is howling again. He is Merv's

favorite guest.



                   GRIFFIN 

         I hear you brought a film clip with

         you. Do you want to set it up for

         us?



                   SPICOLI 

         Well, it pretty much speaks for

         itself. Peter, you want to run with

         it?



EXT. A MASSIVE WAVE - DAY



The film clip begins. It is a mammoth wave cresting

against the blue sky.



                   SPICOLI (V.O.) 

         Merv, this is the action down at

         Sunset Cliffs at about six in the

         morning.



                   GRIFFIN (V.O.) 

         Fascinating.



A tiny figure appears at the foot of the wave.



                   GRIFFIN (CONT'D)

         Who's that?



                   SPICOLI 

         That's me, Merv.



The audience gasps.



                   GRIFFIN (V.O.) 

         Are you going to ride that wave?



                   SPICOLI 

         Totally.



We watch as Spicoli catches the perfect wave, and

it hurtles him through a turquoise tube of water.



                   GRIFFIN

         What's going through your mind

         right here, Jeff? The danger of it

         all?



                   SPICOLI

         Merv, I'm thinking... I've only got

         about four good hours of surfing

         left before these little clowns

         from junior high start showing up

         with their boogie boards.



The audience is howling once again... when suddenly

we hear the loud noise of a door opening, followed

by a shrill voice. It is Spicoli's eight-year-old

brother, Curtis.



Jeff Spicoli's dream of glory evaporates.



INT. SPICOLI'S TRAILER HOME - MORNING



It is a messy trailer, part of a trailer park by

the sea. Spicoli's area is small, but he has made

it his own. The walls are covered with posters,

almost all of them naked centerfolds. It is obvious

Spicoli's parents are not welcome in his room.



                   CURTIS

         Dad says you have to get up!



                   SPICOLI 

         Ugh.



He groans, starts to struggle out of bed.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         Leave me alone!



                   CURTIS

         Dad says you're late again, you

         butthole!



                   SPICOLI 

         Leave me alone.



                   CURTIS

         Dad says!



Spicoli reaches over to the floor next to his bed.

He pulls a snorkel from the mess, heaves it at the

door and his little brother. It bounces off the

wall and doesn't even hit Curtis, but the kid

starts crying anyway.



                   CURTIS (CONT'D)

         Daaaaaaaad! Jeff threw a snorkel at

         me!!!!!!



Spicoli gets out of bed, groans again, and kicks

the door shut.



EXT. RIDGEMONT GYMNASIUM



celebrating the big game with rival Lincoln High

School. We see Jeff Spicoli stumble from the

direction of the parking lot. He heads into the

gym, which is already full for a mandatory

assembly.



INT. GYMNASIUM - DOORWAY - DAY



Spicoli wanders into the assembly, takes a seat on

a corner bleacher. He sits just below Brad Hamilton

and Lisa.



On podium in front of assembly, Cindy Carr and

another cheerleader, Dina Phillips, are making a

presentation before the school.



                   CINDY 

         I just want to say that we are not

         'Spirit Bunnies' anymore. We always

         hated that name. It bugged the heck

         out of Dina and me...



                   DINA 

         It's just such a put down.



                   CINDY 

         They don't call the Chess Club

         'Checker Champs' or anything like

         that. We're going to go to

         everything this year, you guys.

         We're going to go to soccer,

         wrestling, basketball...

         everything. We know you've got a

         lot of spirit! Everybody --

         riiiiiight? And we're gonna destroy

         Lincoln next week? Riiiiiiight?



ANGLE ON THE STUDENTS OF RIDGEMONT



They don't respond.



ANGLE ON JEFF SPICOLI



who is asleep in the bleachers.



ANGLE ON BRAD AND LISA



sitting nearby. We hear them over the drone of the

assembly.



                   BRAD

         Man, I don't even want to see those

         guys from Carl's again.



                   LISA

         If you'd apologize I think Dennis

         would take you back.



                   BRAD 

         Apologize to that wimp? No way.

         Fuck Dennis Taylor. 



They sit in silence for a moment.



                   BRAD (CONT'D)

         I'm just glad we're still together,

         Lisa, because I need you this year.



                   LISA 

              (sighs)

         Look, Brad, I've been trying to

         think of a way to tell you this.

         We're almost out of high school,

         this is our last year. I think we

         owe it to ourselves to be free, and

         meet some new people. Then, if we

         get back together, we'll know it's

         the right thing.



TIGHT ANGLE ON BRAD'S FACE



as he accepts the news.



                   LISA (O.S.) (CONT'D)

         But I still want to be friends.



TIGHT ANGLE ON BRAD'S FACE



as it falls slack.



INT. GYM - PODIUM IN FRONT OF ASSEMBLY



                   CINDY 

         We're going to be going to every

         game this year. We just want the

         crowd to participate and we want

         spirit from every little person in

         this entire school. Allll-Riiiight?



There is unenthusiastic, minor applause from the

assembled students of Ridgemont High. Vice

Principal Ray Connors, a tough-looking man with an

H.R. Haldeman crew cut, approaches the podium. He

has a sour look on his face.



                   CONNORS 

         Well, thank you, girls. People,

         don't forget, the big game is one

         week away. We'll see everybody back

         here on Monday and have a good

         weekend.



For the first time during this assembly, there is a

loud and hearty applause.



A GRAINY HIGH SCHOOL FILM 57



We are suddenly watching a movie shown on a class

projection screen. We see footage of a serene,

middle-class neighborhood -- as seen through the

glass windshield of a car. Judging from the other

vehicles parked on the street, the film is from the

early Sixties. We hear the narrative voice of Desi

Arnaz, speaking in his inimitable Latin accent.



                   ARNAZ 

         Driving ess an important part of

         each and every one of our da-ily

         lives. Ees a responsibility like no

         o-ther and ess a matter of life

         and...



A ball comes rolling out into the serene street. A

small child runs out after it. The driving of our

vehicle brakes, but not in time. The film freeze

frames on the terrified face of a child about to be

splattered.



                   ARNAZ (CONT'D)

         Death.



There is a swell of dramatic music.



                   ARNAZ (CONT'D)

         They have foun'... The Braking

         Point.



The words flash on the screen and we hear a high

school Driver's Training class groan in mock

horror.



INT. DRIVER TRAINING CLASS - DAY 



ANGLE ON CHARLES JEFFERSON AND BRAD HAMILTON



who are seated in this class.



ANGLE ON LINDA AND STACY



sitting together in the class. They are oblivious,

lost in conversation.



                   STACY 

         What do you think of that guy who

         works at the theatre? You know,

         Mark Ratner.



                   LINDA

         Oh, come on. What is he? Fifteen?



                   STACY 

         Sixteen.



Linda looks nauseous.



                   LINDA 

         Just watch out if he pulls up in a

         van, and then puts on a Led

         Zeppelin tape.



INT. DRIVER TRAINING CLASS



The film returns to another serene street scene as

seen through another front windshield.



                   ARNAZ 

         The driver here has had jus' two

         drinks. Two drinks at the home of a

         frien'.



We hear the very-present sounds of Driver's

Training students.



                   STUDENT #1 

         He's fucked-up, Ricky!



                   STUDENT #2 

         They guys a drunk, Ricky!



                   ARNAZ

         And although this driver thinks he

         ees drivin' well, he may be 'doing

         okay, but he forgets to per-ceive

         what ees real goin' on...



In the film, another car comes barreling from the

left, running a stop sign and exploding into the

side of the two-drink goner. In the class, the

Driver's Training students are howling.



EXT. RIDGEMONT MALL - EARLY EVENING



The parking lot is full. Kids and shoppers stream

through the entrance in groups of all sizes.



INT. RIDGEMONT MALL



All three levels are teeming with kids.



ANGLE ON THE VIDEO PINBALL ARCADE



where we see Jeff Spicoli manning the Missile

Command machine. Spicoli wears a red bandana across

his forehead. A cigarette dangles from his mouth.

He is surrounded by a fleet of young surfers who

listen to him with reverence.



                   SPICOLI 

         Be noble. Be aggressive. The thing

         about Missile Command is to

         decimate before you can be

         decimated. Just like in real life. 



The youngsters hang on every word of the sage

advice.



ANGLE ON A GANG OF SURF NAZIS



walking in formation.



ANGLE ON MIKE DAMONE AND MARK RATNER



walking the mall.



                   DAMONE

         Check it out, Rat. The Surf

         Nazis... out for a Sunday stroll.



Damone and The Rat walk on. The Rat is barely

interested. He appears deep in thought.



                   THE RAT 

         What do I say after she gets in the

         car?



Damone, obviously in his element here at the mall,

stops to flash a winning smile at a well-built

older housewife.



                   DAMONE 

         No problem, Rat. What you need is

         my special Five Point Plan.



As he talks, Damone passes a Country Farms shop. He

plucks a free sample of cheese and sausage.



                   THE RAT 

         Knock it off, Damone. I need real

         help.



                   DAMONE 

         What do you mean? Men have died

         trying to obtain this information.

         I will give it to you for free.



The Rat and Damone continue on.



                   THE RAT 

         Okay. Tell me. What's the Five

         Point Plan?



                   DAMONE 

         All right. Pay attention.



The Rat nods, always the student, as they pass a

Wherehouse Record store. Damone stops right in

front of a seductively posed life-sized cardboard

stand-up of Debbie Harry, the alluring rock singer.



Damone begins his speech.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         First of all, Rat... never let on

         how much you like a girl.



Damone turns to the cardboard cutout of Debbie

Harry to demonstrate.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

              (disinterested)

         Oh. Hi.

              (turns back to The Rat) )

         Two. Always call the shots.



He turns to Debbie Harry, who looks on with an

inviting cardboard smile.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         Kiss me.

              (to The Rat)

         Three. Act like wherever you are,

         that's the place to be.

              (to Debbie Harry;

              debonair) )

         Isn't this great?

              (to The Rat)

         Four. When ordering food, find out

         what she wants and then order for

         both of you... it's a classy move.

              (to Debbie Harry; Cary

              Grant)

         And the lady will have...

              (to The Rat)

         Five. And this is most important.

         When you get down to making out,

         whenever possible, put on the first

         side of Led Zeppelin IV.

              (to Debbie Harry;

              seductive)

         Why don't you put this tape on? It

         sounds great in the back of my

         van... why don't we listen from

         there?



ANGLE ON DEBBIE HARRY



with the same inviting smile.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         And that is how you talk to a girl,

         Rat. Voila. You can't miss.



                   THE RAT 

         I think I've got it. Once I get

         going, I'll be okay. But... how do

         I get started? I mean, I hardly

         know her.



                   DAMONE 

         You wuss. It's no problem. One

         person says something to the other

         and that's how it starts...



Standing there in the front of the Wherehouse, The

Rat nods his head and smiles. He's finally

beginning to understand, and we...



                                       CUT TO:



EXT. THE RAT'S CAR - LATER THAT NIGHT



We see The Rat behind the wheel of a green Volvo.

Stacy sits beside him. They are driving the streets

of Ridgemont.



INT. THE RAT'S CAR



This is it. The Big Date. "Led Zeppelin IV" is on

the car stereo of his sister's van.



Finally...



                   STACY 

         Thanks for coming to get me.



                   THE RAT 

         Sure thing.



Silence.



EXT. THE RAT'S CAR



He rounds the corner of Luna Street, off the neon

fast-food stand that is Ridgemont Drive.



INT. THE RAT'S CAR



Yet another silence has fallen. Then, after a

time...



                   STACY

         This is a nice car.



                   THE RAT

         Yeah. It's my sister's.



Silence.



                   STACY

         Do you have Mrs. George for

         English?



                   THE RAT

         Yeah. She is pretty good.



                   STACY

         Yeah. She is pretty good.



EXT. ATLANTIS RESTAURANT - NIGHT



They pull into the parking lot of a steak and

lobster house called The Atlantis.



                   THE RAT

         Joey at Cinema Four said this is a

         pretty good restaurant.



                   STACY

         I've heard that, too.



The Rat finds a parking spot near the back of the

lot, grateful that the long silence is over. He

walks with Stacy to the front of The Atlantis.



INT. THE ATLANTIS - NIGHT



The Rat and Stacy are escorted by the host to a

nearby table. They are given large wooden menus.



                   THE RAT

         Do you know what you want?



                   STACY

         I think I'll have the Seafood Salad

         Special.



                   THE RAT 

         Excellent.



The Rat leans back in the booth. He is starting to

feel in control now. Then something hits him. The

panic sweeps across his face.



Slowly, The Rat reaches back to check his wallet.

It's gone.



                   STACY 

         Are you all right?



                   THE RAT 

              (weakly)

         Oh yeah.



Cool. Cool was the name of the game. Stay cool.



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         Do you mind if I excuse myself for

         a moment?



                   STACY 

         Not at all.



Just as The Rat is about to get up, the Waitress

approaches the table.



                   WAITRESS 

         Are you ready to order here?



                   THE RAT 

         Well... sure. 

              (settles back down)

         She will have the Seafood Salad

         Special. And I will have... the

         same.



                   WAITRESS 

         Anything to drink?



                   THE RAT 

         Two Cokes.



                   WAITRESS 

         Okay. Thanks.



The Rat gets back up again, looking paler by the

minute. He excuses himself and walks over to the

pay phone by the Atlantis toilets.



The Rat dials a number. Damone answers.



INT. DAMONE'S ROOM - NIGHT



He is sitting in a chair, leaning onto the back two

legs, watching television.



                   DAMONE 

         Yo.



                   THE RAT (V.O.) 

         Damone. It's Mark.



                   DAMONE 

         Mark. What happened to your date?



                   THE RAT 

         It's happening right now. I'm here

         at the Atlantis. Everything's fine

         except... I left my wallet at home.



                   DAMONE 

         Did you go home and get it?



                   THE RAT 

         No. It's too late. The food is

         coming and everything. Damone, I've

         got to ask you this favor, and I'll

         never ask you for anything again in

         this lifetime or any other. Will

         you please borrow your mom's car,

         go by my house, get my wallet, and

         meet me back here?



There is silence.



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         Damone, are you there?



                   DAMONE 

              (world-weary sigh)

         I'm really pretty busy...



ANGLE ON DAMONE'S TELEVISION



as we see the flickering images of Leave It To

Beaver.



                   DAMONE (CONT'D)

         You owe me for this one.



INT. ATLANTIS



The Rat hangs up, mildly relieved, and returns to

the table.



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



INT. STACY AND THE RAT'S TABLE - AN HOUR LATER



The Rat and Stacy have finished the meal, and

desert.



ANGLE ON THE CHECK



as it sits in a little tray before The Rat.



The Waitress approaches the table. It is clear she

wants to make room for other customers and bigger

tips.



                   WAITRESS 

         Are you sure there's nothing else I

         can bring you?



                   THE RAT 

         I'll have one more Coke... Do you

         want another Coke, Stacy?



                   STACY 

              (quizzical) )

         Sure. I'll... have another Coke.



                   THE RAT 

         Two more Cokes.



                   WAITRESS 

              (sarcastic)

         Two... more... Cokes.



ANGLE ON FRONT DOOR



as Mike Damone finally walks in. Damone looks over

the diners, then feigns great surprise when he sees

The Rat.



                   DAMONE 

         Hey, Mark. Is that you?



                   THE RAT 

         Damone! You come here?



                   DAMONE 

         I come for the seafood. It's great!

         Hey... you know what, Mark? I found

         your wallet the other day. You want

         it back?



                   THE RAT 

         Wow. I've been looking for that

         thing! Hey, Damone, have you met

         Stacy Hamilton? Stacy, this is Mike

         Damone.



Stacy smiles politely, with the slightest sparkle

in her eye, as the Waitress returns with the two

Cokes.



                   DAMONE

         Well, I've gotta be running.



                   THE RAT

         Okay. See ya.



ANGLE ON STACY



looking strangely at the proceedings.



                   DAMONE

         Nice to meet you, Stacy.



                   STACY

         Nice to meet you.



Damone leaves. The Rat takes a few quick gulps of

Coke, and gets up to pay the bill. As he moves out

of camera range, we see the strange look on the

faces of waitresses and diners.



INT. THE RAT'S CAR - LATE EVENING



The Rat pulls up to Stacy's house in the cul-de

sac. He stares straight ahead, like a zombie.



                   THE RAT

         I had a really nice time tonight.



                   STACY

         Me, too. I'm real sorry someone

         broke in and stole your tape deck.



The Rat nods glumly.



                   THE RAT

         I never thought it would happen at

         The Atlantis. Jeez.



                   STACY

         Do you want to come inside?



                   THE RAT

         Aren't your parents asleep?



                   STACY

         No, they're away for the weekend.

         Brad and I are watching the house.



                   THE RAT

         Okay. Sure. I'll come in.



We see a confused but interested look on The Rat's

face.



INT. THE HAMILTON HOUSE - EVENING



They walk in the front door. The Rat stands

uncomfortably in the doorway to the living room.



                   THE RAT

         Where's your brother?



                   STACY

         I don't know. Probably out. Want

         something to drink?



                   THE RAT

         No. That's okay.



                   STACY

         Well, I'm going to change real

         quick. I hope you don't mind.



                   THE RAT

         Naw. I don't mind.



Stacy turns her back and pulls up her hair.



                   STACY

         Will you unzip me?



ANGLE ON THE RAT'S FACE



as the wheels inside his mind start to spin. This

can't be what it seems. He unzips Stacy, past her

bra, down to the small of her back. It's the first

time he's ever done anything like that.



                   STACY (CONT'D)

         Thanks!



She walks down the hall to her room, easing out of

her dress as she walks. She leaves the door to her

room open.



                   STACY (CONT'D)

         You can come in, if you want!



ANGLE ON THE RAT'S FACE



He is completely unsure of himself, as he begins to

walk down the hall. His heart pounds into his

throat. He turns the corner and steps into Stacy's

room.



INT. STACY'S ROOM - NIGHT



Stacy stands there, looking gorgeous in an almost

seethrough white robe. The Rat pretends not to

notice.



                   THE RAT 

         So... pretty nice house you've got

         here.



                   STACY 

         Thanks. So... 

              (puts hands on hips)

         What do you want to do?



ANGLE ON THE RAT'S FACE



as he struggles with the memory of Damone's words.

"Always call the shots."



                   THE RAT 

         I don't know.



                   STACY 

         Do you want to see some pictures? I

         kept a lot of scrapbooks and

         pictures and stuff from junior

         high. How stupid, right?



                   THE RAT 

         Sure.



Stacy goes to her closet, reaches up to grab the

books from the top shelf. The Rat watches her robe

slip up her legs. Then she sits down next to him.

Her knee grazes his. It is almost too much for The

Rat. Go for it. We see The Rat struggle with the

action of putting his arm around her. He almost

does, but then reacts as she says suddenly...



                   STACY 

         This is me in the eighth grade. Did

         you have Mr. Deegan?



                   THE RAT 

              (looking pained)

         Oh, yeah. I had Mr. Deegan.



Her knee grazes him again. Does she expect

something?



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         Look, Stacy, I want you to know

         that...



The Rat struggles. Try as he might, he can't seem

to cross the line. He can't make his move. He is

woeful as he completes the sentence.



                   THE RAT (CONT'D)

         ... I've got to go home.



                   STACY

         Do you really have to go?



                   THE RAT

         Well... it's getting kind of late.



Suddenly, The Rat is seized with ambition. He

reaches one hand around her right shoulder and

plants the other hand directly on her left breast.

It looks something like a wrestling hold. The Rat

looks at Stacy. Stacy looks back at The Rat. The

Rat is absolutely frozen.



                   STACY

         I guess it is getting late, Mark.



She shrugs him off, walks him to the door.



EXT. THE HAMILTON HOME - NIGHT



We see The Rat's forlorn face as he trudges towards

his car. He stops. He takes a breath -- it wasn't

that late, he really didn't want to leave. The Rat

turns and begins walking back up the Hamilton

steps. Just as he does so, Stacy's bedroom light

clicks off. It was too late. He kicks at his car.



                   THE RAT

         You blew it, asshole.



Behind him, recklessly speeding towards Ridgemont

Drive, is Charles Jefferson's blue Mustang.



EXT./INT. THE BLUE MUSTANG - NIGHT



Jeff Spicoli is behind the wheel. Sitting next to

him is Little Charles, "L.C.", Jefferson's younger

brother. They're smoking grass and holding

Lowenbrau beers in between their legs. The radio is

blasting the music of Rick James.



                   L.C.

         Hey, slow down. This is my

         brother's car.



                   SPICOLI

         I thought he was out of town.



                   L.C.

         He is.



                   SPICOLI

         Then don't hassle it.



They speed off down Ridgemont.



                   L.C.

         Seen the new Playboy?



                   SPICOLI

         Naw. Any good?



                   L.C.

         Suzanne Somers' tits.



                   SPICOLI

         All right.



                   L.C.

         I like sex.



Spicoli sees something in the rearview mirror.



                   SPICOLI

         Hold your beer down, L.C., I think

         it's a cop.



Spicoli slows down. The car behind him slows down.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         This is a cop. He's definitely

         cruising me at busting distance.



The high beams switch on behind Spicoli.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         What the fuck is this guy doing?



The car behind Spicoli then advances to the point

where it is now almost touching the blue Mustang.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         What the fuck is this guy doing?



                   L.C.

         This ain't no cop.



The mystery car bumps them lightly from behind.



                   L.C. (CONT'D)

         Hey! He's gonna scratch my

         brother's car!



The two boys start yelling. High beams fill the

Mustang with bright light and...



EXT./INT. MUSTANG AND GRANADA



Then mystery car pulls back, then up alongside

Spicoli and L.C. on the left. We hear the music on

the radio of George Thoroughgood's "Ride On,

Josephine".



                   SPICOLI

         It's a bunch of Jocks in a Granada!



                   L.C.

         They're fuckin' with us.



The drivers of the two cars eye each others. Then

the Granada begins inching over, trying to force

Spicoli off the road.



                   L.C. (CONT'D)

         My brother's car!



                   SPICOLI

         All right. Die, Granada Jocks!



Spicoli guns ahead, in a real bullet move, and

easily overtakes the Granada. Spicoli is proud of

himself. He checks himself out in the rearview and

turns to L.C.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         Would you roll your window up,

         L.C.? It's messing my hair.



Spicoli pulls way ahead of the Granada, while L.C.

rolls his window up. Spicoli looks over to L.C. and

smiles wickedly.



Now Spicoli wants to show off. He pushes the pedal

to the floor.



                   L.C.

         We just missed the turnoff to the

         party.



                   SPICOLI

         You know the thing I love about

         Mustangs? The steering wheel.



Spicoli fingers the bubbles in the wheel.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         With a genuine Mustang steering

         wheel, you can negotiate a hairpin

         turn with ease, my man.



EXT./INT. MUSTANG



on the word "ease", Spicoli curls his finger into

one of the Mustang steering wheel bubbles and whips

it clockwise. The idea is to turn off onto a side

street and head back to the party. But instead, at

the moment of the hairpin turn, L.C. is attempting

to switch the radio station. Spicoli crooks his

finger farther into the bubble than he expected.

The car swings in a complete circle, a circle that

includes a bright yellow fire hydrant. The hydrant

rips the side of the car open like a can of tuna.

There is a silent moment of terror.



                   SPICOLI 

         Are you okay?



There is silence. Outside the smashed car, the

Granada Jocks pass Spicoli and L.C.



                   GRANADA JOCKS 

         Fuck youuuuuuuuuu!



Then L.C. stirs and utters his first words.



                   L.C. 

         My brother is going to kill us.

         He's gonna kill you and then he's

         gonna kill me. He's gonna kill us.



                   SPICOLI 

         Just be glad you're all right.



                   L.C. 

         My brother is gonna shit.



                   SPICOLI 

         Make up your mind. Is he gonna

         shit, or is he gonna kill us? 



                   L.C. 

         First he's gonna shit. And then

         he's gonna kill us..



                   SPICOLI 

         Will you just relax, mon? He's not

         gonna kill us. My father is a

         television repairman. He's got all

         kinds of tools. I can fix-this car.



                   L.C. 

         You can't fix this car, Spicoli.



ANGLE ON THE BLUE MUSTANG



waffled and mangled. It is just inches away from

scrap iron.



                   SPICOLI 

         I can fix it.



MONTAGE OF SHOTS



as we see Ridgemont High gearing up for its big

Homecoming Game against Lincoln. We see a series of

shots of kids talking about it, wagering on the

chances of a Ridgemont victory. We see the many

signs and placards all over school, proclaiming

Ridgemont revenge. We see students lining up to

vote for Homecoming King and Queen in the

gymnasium. It is the most spirit that Ridgemont has

shown this year.



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



EXT. RIDGEMONT SCHOOL - FLAGPOLE - DAY



From the back of the parking lot, we see a crowd

around the flagpole. A group of kids are staring at

something. They sadly shake their heads at the

sight, as if they are witnessing a funeral.



As we draw closer, we see the center of commotion.

It is an ugly sight. Someone had wrecked Charles

Jefferson's Blue Scholarship Mustang and welded it

to the flagpole. Spray-painted on the side was the

message: LINCOLN SURF PUNKS RULE.



EXT. RIDGEMONT BLEACHERS - NIGHT



The Ridgemont football bleachers are full of

cheering students. We see the same basic groups

from lunch court, and many more.



The cheerleaders are on the field -- Cindy Carr,

Dina Phillips and company -- and their cheerleader

"husbands" sit directly in front of them in the

stands. Linda and Stacy sit in the bleachers with

some of the Swenson's girls. The Rat and Damone sit

several rows above them, watching. The teachers sit

together in another section.



ANGLE ON BRAD HAMILTON



who is again sitting alone in the bleachers.

Watching. Several old lunch court friends pass by,

on their way to the concession area.



                   STUDENT #1

         Hey, Brad! How's going?



                   BRAD

         All right.



                   STUDENT #2

         Where you working?



                   BRAD

         Fish and chips place.



                   STUDENT #1

         Which one?



                   BRAD

         Just a fish and chips place.



Brad says nothing more. The students look at each

other.



                   STUDENTS 

         We'll be seeing you, Brad!



                   BRAD 

              (sullen)

         Later.



EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - THE GAME - NIGHT



Everyone is cheering the amazing game on the field.

Charles Jefferson is poised on the offensive line.

He mutters a string of obscenities at the opposing

Lincoln player. The ball is snapped, and Charles

Jefferson comes directly at the player with both

elbows up and angled to hit inside his helmet. The

Lincoln player is hit and keels over.



Charles Jefferson sets up for another play. The

ball is snapped. Ka-boom. Down falls another

Lincoln player. Jefferson doesn't know who it was

who wrecked his Mustang, but he wasn't about to

spare any of them. There is pure madness in his

eyes. It has taken him over.



The Ridgemont points rack up. Jefferson is single

handedly maiming Lincoln for Homecoming.



EXT. RIDGEMONT BLEACHERS - NIGHT



We see Jeff Spicoli and L.C. sitting calmly in the

bleachers, watching.



                   SPICOLI 

         I think we may have gotten away

         clean.



EXT. FIELD AND SCOREBOARD



The half-time gun fires and the score is 36-7...

Ridgemont. Even the Ridgemont players steer clear

of Charles Jefferson as they return to their locker

room.



EXT. THE HAMILTON POOL - HOT AFTERNOON - SEVERAL

WEEKS LATER



Linda and Stacy are sitting by the pool, dressed in

string tie bathing suits. They are listening to the

music of Tom Petty's "Breakdown" playing on the

living room stereo. Linda luxuriously applies

suntan lotion to her chest and legs, in long and

writhing strokes. Stacy reads a book. It's called

Total Orgasm. Several beats pass.



                   LINDA 

         I sent a letter to Doug today. I'll

         be so glad when he gets out here.



                   STACY 

              (engrossed in book)

         You really ought to look at this,

         Linda. There's a drawing on every

         page... and all these quizzes. It's

         like school.



                   LINDA 

         Why don't you put your mother's

         secret book back?



Linda continues regally applying lotion.



                   STACY 

         Listen to this... 'What are your

         mate's three most erogenous zones?'



                   LINDA 

              (automatic)

         Okay, penis, that's one, balls...



                   STACY 

         Wouldn't penis and balls be the

         same category?



                   LINDA 

         You're right. Probably penis, mouth

         and neck.



                   STACY 

         All right! Here's another one. 'The

         most satisfactory lovemaking occurs

         when your mate climaxes first, you

         climax first, you and your mate

         climax together?'



                   LINDA 

         Climax together.



                   STACY 

         Does that ever happen?



                   LINDA 

         No. But it's a nice idea.



                   STACY 

         Listen to this ... it says 'Most

         women derive pleasure from sex, but

         they don't have real orgasms.'



Linda stops applying lotion, considers that

thought.



                   LINDA 

         Well... they obviously don't know

         about Doug.



They laugh. Linda resumes applying the lotion.

Stacy continues reading the book. A couple of beats

pass.



                   STACY 

         How long does Doug take?



                   LINDA 

         I don't know. Thirty to forty

         minutes.



                   STACY 

              (pause)

         What's Doug do in Chicago?



                   LINDA 

         He works for the airline. He'll be

         out here. You'll meet him.



Stacy looks at Linda, almost disbelieving.



                   LINDA (CONT'D)

              (wistful)

         He's no high school boy.



There is a noise by the side fence leading into the

Hamiltons' backyard. It is Mark Ratner and Mike

Damone. They are already wearing swimsuits.



                   DAMONE 

         Hey! We came over to help you with

         Math homework!



                   STACY 

         Oh, really?



                   THE RAT 

         Really. We figured you needed the

         help. On such a hot day.



Stacy quickly stashes the book in a stack of towels

beside her. She leans over to Linda and speaks

confidentially.



                   STACY 

         What do you think?



                   LINDA

         I think they're both virgins.



Stacy smiles, gets up and goes over to the fence.



                   STACY

         I didn't ask for any help. Did you,

         Linda?



                   LINDA

         No.



                   DAMONE

         Well, that's exactly why I brought

         some Wisk for the jacuzzi.



                   STACY

         O-kay, you guys can come swimming.

         But you have to leave as soon as my

         Mom gets home. Okay?



EXT. HAMILTON POOL



Mike Damone yells "banzai!" and dives into the

small pool. At one end of the pool is the jacuzzi,

which is separated by a tile wall. Damone has

already poured the Wisk into the jacuzzi, and the

detergent has created a huge bubble bath effect.

Damone surfaces and flips into the jacuzzi.



Stacy, looking great in a green bikini, sits

kicking her legs by the side of the pool. Linda

stands on the board. She is poised to dive. The Rat

treads water and stares at both girls. Inside the

Hamilton living room, the family stereo plays the

music of Deep Purple's "Woman From Tokyo".



                   DAMONE 

         Hey, Linda! I'll judge your dive.

         I'm a champion diver myself.



Brad arrives home by the side gate and slams it

behind him. He is home from a bad day at work. He

walks out onto the patio and stands with his hands

on his hips. For the first time, our former campus

hero looks absurd. He is still in his uniform from

Captain Kidd Fish and Chips -- it is a blue and

white striped Pirates of the Caribbean outfit,

complete with black plastic sword at the side, and

a ridiculously large Ponce de Leon-esque hat. Brad

carries the hat under his arm.



                   BRAD 

         Does Mom know you have company?



                   STACY 

         It's just Linda. And Mark from

         school.



Brad ignores the underclassmen, and notices Linda

on the board in her maroon bikini. He smiles.



                   BRAD 

         Hi, Linda.



                   LINDA 

         Hi, Brad.



                   BRAD 

         Well, you guys, keep it down. I've

         got some work to do upstairs.



Brad turns and heads back inside. He is just out of

earshot when they begin talking about him.



                   LINDA 

         God, he hardly even talks anymore.



                   STACY 

         I know. He hates to have to wear

         uniforms.



                   DAMONE 

         Poor guy.



                   THE RAT 

         Really.



Stacy breaks the spell by jumping into the water,

surfacing, and flipping over the tile wall into the

Jacuzzi. She sits next to Damone, looking

mischievous.



ANGLE ON DAMONE AND STACY IN THE JACUZZI



talking while the others are at the other end of

the pool.



ANGLE ON THE RAT



casually catching sight of them together from the

other side of the pool. We can read the emotions on

The Rat's face. He is still taken with Stacy, but

his big moment for her appears to have passed.



ANGLE ON DAMONE AND STACY IN THE JACUZZI



as they talk.



Underneath the water, her leg accidentally knocks

against his. Then he feels her continue. Damone

feels Stacy's cool hand on his inner thigh. Moving

upwards, stopping just short of the bulge in his

trunks.



ANGLE ON DAMONE'S FACE



as it loosens and quivers just the slightest bit.

This is uncharted territory, even for Mr. Attitude.



ANGLE ON LINDA



who is now sunning herself by the side of the pool.

She rubs her legs against each other, slowly,

enjoying the hot afternoon.



EXT. BRAD'S WINDOW - ANGLE ON BRAD



who is watching Linda from the window in his room.

We see him from behind, peeking out the curtains.



EXT. POOL - ANGLE ON LINDA



who smiles at Damone and flips back into the pool

with a splash. Damone steals a look down at his

swimsuit. He's popped a big one.



                   THE RAT 

         Why don't you get up and do a dive,

         Mike?



                   LINDA 

         Go ahead.



ANGLE ON DAMONE'S FACE



and we know he can't get out of the water yet.



                   DAMONE

         No. I don't think so. Not right 

         now.



                   THE RAT

         Chicken!



Linda, for one, loses interest quickly. Standing by

the side of the pool, she jams a finger in her ear

and wiggles it.



                   LINDA 

         Stacy! I've got water in my ears.

         Do you have any Q-Tips?



                   STACY 

         God, I don't think so. Better look

         in the house.



Linda towels off and heads back inside the Hamilton

house. She knows how to walk.



INT. BRAD'S BEDROOM AND BATHROOM - AFTERNOON



We see Brad's room. The Carl's burger picture on

the wall is conspicuously missing. There is music

playing from his stereo -- Pink Floyd's "You and

Me".



We see Brad. He is kneeling on the bathroom floor,

his back to us. His green T-shirt is on, his

underwear in a pile on the floor behind him. His

arm is pumping slowly. Brad is jacking off.



                                       DISSOLVE

                                       TO:



EXT. HAMILTON POOL - BRAD'S DAYDREAM



It features Linda Barrett, just as she stood on the

diving board a moment ago. She is gorgeous. Her

breasts seem even bigger than usual. Her nipples

are hard, poking through the film maroon string

bikini. Water rolls slowly down her cheeks, into

the corners of her mouth. Her lips are parted

slightly. Her eyes are filled with desire as she

says...



                   LINDA 

         Hi, Brad.

              (pause)

         You know how cute I always thought

         you were. I think you're so sexy.

         Will you come to me?



ANGLE ON BRAD IN DAYDREAM



in a nice shirt, his hair combed back and looking

great. He walks to Linda. She reaches out and grabs

him for a kiss, pulling him close. Then she pushes

him away, so he can watch as she carefully unstraps

the top of her bathing suit. The incredible Linda

Barrett's breasts fall loose.



She takes Brad's hands and places them on her, as

she begins unbuttoning his shirt. They are just

about to fall into passionate lovemaking when we

hear...



                   LINDA (O.S.) (CONT'D)

         Hey, Brad! Do you have any Q-Ti...



The daydream evaporates and we see real life again

with an...



INT. BRAD'S BATHROOM - ANGLE ON LINDA'S FACE



in the doorway of Brad's bathroom as she watches

the sight before her.



ANGLE ON BRAD



trying to cover himself and act nonchalant and keep

his back turned at the same time. The words barely

escape his mouth.



                   BRAD 

         Wait just a... minute.



                   LINDA 

         Sorry. I didn't know anybody was in

         here.



Linda turns and goes immediately, as if she wants

to forget what she saw as quickly as possible. She

closes the door behind her.



ANGLE ON BRAD



still kneeling. It had all happened so quickly, so

fast



                   BRAD

         Doesn't anybody fuckin' knock

         anymore?



He slams the toilet seat down and we...



                                       CUT TO:



INT. U.S. HISTORY CLASS - DAY



The third attendance bell rings, and Mr. Hand

strides to the front of the class. He locks the

door. Then he takes the front of the class and

notices something very different.



ANGLE ON JEFF SPICOLI



bright and clear-eyed, sitting in the front row.

His hands are clasped in front of him on the desk.

His textbook is open to the proper page.



Mr. Hand is suspicious, but continues with class.



                   MR. HAND 

         Now in 1898, Spain owned Cuba.

         Outright. Think about it. Cuba,

         owned by a disorganized parliament

         4,000 miles away. Cubans were in a

         constant state of revolt.



Mr. Hand begins pacing the aisles as he talks.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

         In 1904, the United States decided

         to throw a little weight around,

         and...



There is a brief, sharp knock at the door. Mr. Hand

whips his head around, like McGarrett. He

approaches the door like a cat.



                   MR. HAND (CONT'D)

              (sweet voice)

         Who is it?



                   VOICE

         Mr. Pizza.



                   MR. HAND 

         Again?



                   VOICE

         Mr. Pizza, sir!



Hand swings the door open, out of curiosity. In

walks a young Man in a Mr. Pizza delivery shirt.



                   PIZZA MAN 

         Okay, who had the double cheese

         sausage and bologna?



Jeff Spicoli speaks up.



                   SPICOLI 

         That's me.



The Delivery Man takes the pizza, sets it on the

desk, as Spicoli whips out some crumpled dollars.

Then he produces yet another crumpled dollar, and

presses it into the Delivery Man's hand.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         For you, my man.



The Delivery Man thanks him warmly, just as Mr.

Hand rages into the picture.



                   MR. HAND

         Am I hallucinating here? Just what

         in the hell do you think you're

         doing?



                   SPICOLI

         Learning about Cuba. Having some

         food.



                   MR. HAND

         Mr. Spicoli, you're on dangerous

         ground here. You're causing a major

         disturbance in my class and on my

         time.



                   SPICOLI

              (cool and urbane)

         I've been thinking about this, Mr.

         Hand. If I'm here... and you're

         here... doesn't that make it our

         time?



Mr. Hand is so furious he's almost shaking.



                   SPICOLI (CONT'D)

         So I thought I'd order us a pizza.

         Just leave me a lot of bologna...



Mr. Hand snatches up the pizza, and starts to throw

it in the wastebasket. Then he thinks better, and

heads for the door. He opens it just as a gang of

young Stoners walk past.



                   STONER #1 

         There's the pizza.



                   STONER #2 

         Totally!



Mr. Hand pushes the pizza into their hands and

slams the door.



                   SPICOLI 

         You better save some for me, you

         swine!



                   MR. HAND 

         And you, my friend. I'll see you

         for a two-hour detention every

         afternoon this week.



Spicoli eases back in his chair, shrugs. It was a

good idea at the time.



INT. CAPTAIN KIDD FISH AND CHIPS - DAY 



Brad Hamilton, looks terribly uncomfortable in his

Ponce de Leon hat and buccaneer uniform. He rings

up an order for an older Customer.



                   CUSTOMER 

         Why aren't you in school, son?



                   BRAD 

         I go to school in the mornings. I

         have a work study program for the

         afternoon.



He bags one final coffee and punches up the amount.



                   BRAD 

         $8.46, please.



                   CUSTOMER 

         Here you go. I have it exactly. 

              (sets money down)

         Good luck!



                   BRAD 

         Thank you, and thanks for coming to

         Captain Kidd.



Brad loosens his buccaneer scarf, and starts back

towards the kitchen. He is stopped by the sudden

appearance of Captain Kidd Assistant Manager,

Harold.



                   HAROLD 

         Hamilton! I'll take over the fryer.

         Those boys at IBM need some Catch

         of-the-Day boxes, and I told them

         you would personally deliver them

         within the hour. I'll reimburse you

         for gas.



Brad dutifully unhooks his apron, to reveal the

bottom half of his pirate suit.



                   BRAD 

         Just write me out a bill.



While Harold leans down to tally up the fish order,

Brad goes to a nearby employee's closet. He has

completely perfected the art of changing back into

his street clothes, and it takes less than a

minute. He is just about to finish buttoning his

street shirt when Harold sees him.



                   HAROLD 

         Hamilton, come over here. What is

         that you've got on?



                   BRAD 

         This is how I dress all the time.



                   HAROLD 

         But you took off your Captain Kidd

         uniform.



                   BRAD 

         I thought I'd take it off for the

         drive over to IBM. It's kind of

         uncomfortable.



Harold can barely fathom the idea.



                   HAROLD 

         Come on, Hamilton. You're going

         over there to represent Captain

         Kidd Fish and Chips. We have stores

         all over Southern California. Part

         of our image, part of our appeal is

         in our uniforms. You know that!



                   BRAD 

         You really want me to put all this

         stuff back on?



                   HAROLD 

         Yes. I think so. Show some pride,

         Hamilton.



ANGLE ON BRAD



as he stands there, stoic looking.



                   BRAD 

         I don't believe you're asking me to

         do this, but okay.



He begins taking off his street shirt. He looks at

Harold, looks at the boxes, and returns to the

closet.



INT. THE CRUISING VESSEL



Brad is driving down the freeway, listening to the

music of Bruce Springsteen's "Out in the Streets."

He pries open one of the fourteen Catch-of-the-Day

boxes on the seat next to him and pulls out a small

piece of fried fish. Brad takes a bite.

The look on his face says it is the worst piece of

shit he has ever tasted. He throws the piece out

the window, and