The Faculty

Damn it! Goddammit!

You call that blocking, you pussy-pukes?

You gotta pick up the linebacker!

Goddammit!

Get off the fucking field, you limp-ass blowdicks!

Consider yourselves dead Friday night! Dead!

You gonna rejoin the living tomorrow, Stan?

You've got to feel the pressure closing in on you!

Then you get rid of the rock!

Now get focused or get the fuck off my team!

Shit! Shake it off.

This better be important,

or somebody's gonna be doin' laps

until sunrise.

Yeah? What?

Please let me finish this

so we can go home. It's late.

Mrs. Brummel, with all sadness, no new computers.

Oh, but...

Get the service guy down here

and get the old ones juiced.

Mr. Tate, you're dreaming.

Absolutely no field trip to New York City.

Look, I don't think that you understand.

You're not getting out of Ohio. Rethink it.

And, finally, Mrs. Olson...

There's just no money for a musical this year.

But I bet the football team gets their new jerseys

and their new equipment.

Have you seen the football stadium

on a Friday night, Mr. Tate?

The entire town is there.

This is a football town, let me remind you,

and, yes, the team will get new jerseys

and new knee pads and new jock straps

and anything else they want in the name of education,

because that is what the school board wants.

Because that is what the parents in this town want.

I'm sorry.

My frustrated hands are tied.

You know, I don't see

why we can't have a few new computers

so the children will learn a little set up.

Oh, Miss Drake, the Drama Club

had their heart set on Guys And Dolls this year.

Well... maybe if they use last year's set from Our Town.

Shit, I forgot my keys. I have to go back.

See you in the morning, Mrs. Olson.

Coach Willis. What can I do for you?

You look very, very pretty tonight, Miss Drake.

Have you been drinking, coach?

I'm sorry to bother you, but, uh...

I can't seem to find a pencil.

You don't need a pencil, coach.

You need a good night's sleep.

- I need a pencil. - Sleep it off, coach.

Do you have a pencil?

Jesus Christ. Yes, I have a pencil.

I have plenty of pencils.

Look, why don't you and your pencil go home.

It's late.

You look... very, very pretty tonight.

Harassment has a really fine line, coach.

Haven't you read your handbook?

I've always wanted to do that.

Would Miss Drake please report

to the principal's office?

Oh!

I forgot my grade book.

Unlock the door! Coach Willis attacked me!

Unlock the door, goddammit! I don't have my keys.

Let me get help No, don't leave me!

Where are your keys? Wait...

In the office.

I'm gonna get my keys now, Mrs. Olson.

Please, let me get help. No, just talk to me, okay?

Oh, Mrs. Drake...

Oh, please be careful.

He's insane.

Miss Drake, he's coming!

Hurry! Hurry!

Hurry, Miss Drake! Hurry!

Hurry!

Shit!

No!

Hurry!

Help me!

Prick.

I always wanted to do that.

You fucking bitch!

What the hell were you doing?

Whatever. Alright?

Sorry. My fault.

Crash and burn, Casey.

Get out of the fucking car, you stupid bitch!

Goddamn you!

Whoa, whoa. You okay? Walk much?

You ran into me, beast.

Okay, now listen up.

Since we're all wearing the same uniforms,

let's keep the hair the same.

Okay, no hair spray, no teasing,

just elegant.

Hey. Simple. Great.

Ooh, Stan, watch it. These are Estee Lauder lips.

Takes 72 minutes to apply.

Sorry.

Hey, can we talk? Well, I can't right now.

I need a new headline for the school paper.

It's important. So is this.

I'm sure you think so, honey.

In fact...

it could be just the story you're lookin' for.

Do the words "editor-in-chief" mean anything to you?

Leave the news to me, okay?

Later.

That shit weakens the legs, Meat.

No, not the pole!

Oh!

Yeah, do it again!

Excuse me.

Could you please tell me where the office is?

It's my first day here.

Thank you. I'm Marybeth Louise Hutchinson.

I really love what you've done with your nose ring.

It really brings out the color in your eyes.

You're such a fucking pussy. Hey, fuck you! Fuck you!

Fuck you, man! Fuck you!

Dude, that's not me.

Doesn't even look like me.

It's fifty bucks, right?

Does that look like me?

It's the new you.

I don't know, man.

How do we know these things are even gonna work?

Trust me, man. I'm brilliant.

Then why are you repeating your senior year?

Alright, look, man.

I'll throw in a couple hits of this.

Scat. My own recipe.

Guaranteed to jack you up.

Up the nose, right?

Whatever works, man.

Fuck.

Excuse me, Mr. Tate.

Try to remember, Harry,

the projector's got teeth.

Sharp ones.

We should be getting hazard pay

for this sort of faulty equipment.

Yeah, right.

Hey, good morning, Miss Harper.

I, uh, I called you this weekend.

I got your machine. How's your cold?

Oh, I can't get rid of it.

Hello. How are you today, Mrs. Brummel?

A bit tired, but no complaints.

Oh. I-I got it.

Can we say, "retirement"?

Maybe you should just go home.

No, thank you.

I'm saving my sick days for when I feel better.

Maybe I should just put a pen in my eye.

When will that bitch turn

the air conditioning back on?

Hey, speaking of which,

has anybody seen Principal Drake?

Oh, maybe she had a sunstroke and died.

What's up with the coach? He's thirsty.

Probably a pregame ritual.

Just lookin' at him makes me want to take a piss.

Good morning, Mrs. Olson.

You look very, very pretty today.

So, um, what was, uh, Crusoe's greatest fear?

Anyone?

Uh, yes, Zeke.

Crusoe's afraid that

he'd be stuck on that island forever

with nothing but calluses.

No, that's-that's not correct.

See...

isolation was his greatest fear.

Yes, but...

his external existence in no way compared

to the internal agony of the loneliness he felt.

That's very good.

Like I said, calluses.

So Cathy tells me one thing,

and then Liz says another and then, of course,

Jenny's got her own story,

so which one do you want me to print?

Print 'em all. He's a jerk.

Hey, we need to talk.

No, Stan, baby, I'm in a crunch.

Could we back-burner it?

I'm quitting football. You're not playing tomorrow?

I'm not playing this year. Would you listen to me?

I'm quitting the team.

I'm not playing ball... anymore.

What brought this on?