Montoya Santana:
I hear Little Puppet's name is on a piece of paper, ese.
J.D.:
I want you to cosign it.
Montoya Santana:
I'm taking it off, ese.
J.D.:
That punk got you kicked back in the hole, set us all back. Now he's running around talking loud shit about how he wants out of La Eme. His number's up, homes.
Montoya Santana:
I said I'm taking it off, ese.
J.D.:
What's gonna happen is gonna happen. Don't try to stop it. You understand me? I'm asking you, carnal.
Montoya Santana:
Is that where it's gotten to, ese?
J.D.:
Brothers are talking about you.
Montoya Santana:
What are they saying, ese?
J.D.:
They're saying that you're not showing them anything.
Montoya Santana:
You know, a long time ago, two best homeboys, two kids, were thrown into juvie. They were scared, and they thought they had to do something to prove themselves. And they did what they had to do. They thought they were doing it to gain respect for their people, to show the world that no one could take their class from them. No one had to take it from us, ese. Whatever we had... we gave it away. Take care of yourself, carnal.
Hannah Green:
Grady, you know how in class you're always telling us that writers make choices?
Grady Tripp:
Yeah.
Hannah Green:
And even though you're book is really beautiful, I mean, amazingly beautiful, it's... it's at times... it's... very detailed. You know, with the genealogies of everyone's horses, and the dental records, and so on. And... I could be wrong, but it sort of reads in places like you didn't make any choices. At all. And I was just wondering if it might not be different if... if when you wrote you weren't always... under the influence.
Grady Tripp:
Well... thank you for the thought, but shocking as it may sound, I am not the first writer to sip a little weed. Furthermore, it might surprise you to know that one book I wrote, as you say, "under the influence," just happened to win a little something called the Pen Award. Which, by the way, I accepted under the influence.
Katherine:
Oh my god, I have to tell you about this reall artsy party this French-Canadian girl in my acting class threw. Like everyone there they wrote like poems or novellas or something. So this one college guy, he was asian, he gets up with his little leather portfolio with a satin ribbon to tie it shut and he's gonna read his poetry. But before he starts reading, he tells us about his fascinations with the human body and he says what fascinates him even more is what comes out of the human body. [sighs to her french fries]
Katherine:
I know I'm really lactose intolerant but I really wish these had cheese on them. Anyway, evidentally he's tasted everything that's come out of his body except shit and he says he'll probably taste that one day too. And then he reads a poem about "shit" so I'm thinking, "Okay, this guy really likes shit," right? And then he keeps reading and he reads 17 poems all about shit. 17! I'm not kidding. And he's talking about the smells and the colors and the farting... Gabe, can you pass me the ketchup? Thanks. Anyway, I was so relieved when he got tired of reading. Then this ethnic woman stands up, she was like Native American or Pilipino, I can never really tell the difference, she didn't have a poem to read so she tells us about a problem that she's having. A sex problem. She says that there's like some force that's making her screw around all the time. All these guys are after her and I mean, she's not what I would call sexy. Well, not that I'm into women that way, but I can tell when a woman's sexy. I mean, she's not what I would call a skank or anything, she's just not what I would call sexy, that's all. So, anyway, this is really funny [chuckles]
Katherine:
, I drank soo much homemade ice tea that I really had to pee right in the middle of her story, right? So I get up, I go to the bathroom, but the bathroom door's locked. So I'm kind of standing there looking at the wallpaper, which is really kind of giving me a headache. Then all of a sudden the toilet flushes, the door opens and the "shit guy" walks out and he's smiling. And not one of those like polite acknowledgement smiles, but he's like SMILING like he's happy about something and all of a sudden I didn't have to pee anymore.
[the geography teacher uses a pointer to demonstrate, on the classroom blackboard, the world of Pleasantville, which consists of Elm Street, Main Street, and the Town Hall]
Miss Peters:
Last week, class, we discussed the geography of Main Street. This week we're going to be talking about Elm Street. Now, can anyone tell me the difference between Elm Street and Main Street? Tommy.
Tommy:
It's not as long?
Miss Peters:
That's right, Tommy, it's not as long. Also, it only has houses, so the geography of Main Street is different than the geography of Elm Street. [Jennifer is frowning in bewilderment. She raises her hand]
Miss Peters:
Mary Sue!
Jennifer:
Yeah. What's outside of Pleasantville? [the entire class turns to look at her]
Miss Peters:
I don't understand.
Jennifer:
Outside of Pleasantville? Like, what's at the end of Main Street?
Miss Peters:
[chuckles and shakes her head] Mary Sue. You should know the answer to that! The end of Main Street is just the beginning again. [the teacher points at the intersection of Elm and Main. The class feels released to giggle at Jennifer/Mary Sue's clearly stupid question, and Jennifer frowns again]
Katherine Watson:
There are seven law schools within 45 minutes of Philadelphia. You can study and get dinner on the table by 5:00.
Joan Brandwyn:
It's too late.
Katherine Watson:
No, some of them accept late admissions! Now, I was upset at first, I can tell you that. When Tommy came to me at the dance and told me he was accepted to Penn, I thought, 'Oh God, her fate is sealed! She's worked so hard, how can she throw it all away?' But then I realized you won't have to! You can bake your cake and eat it too! It's just wonderful!
Joan Brandwyn:
We're married. We eloped over the weekend. Turned out he was petrified of a bit ceremony, so we did a sort of spur-of-the-moment thing. Very romantic. [Katherine is stunned]
Joan Brandwyn:
It was my choice, not to go. He would have supported it.
Katherine Watson:
But you don't have to choose!
Joan Brandwyn:
No, I have to. I want a home, I want a family! That's not something I'll sacrifice.
Katherine Watson:
No one's asking you to sacrifice that, Joan. I just want you to understand that you can do both.
Joan Brandwyn:
Do you think I'll wake up one morning and regret not being a lawyer?
Katherine Watson:
Yes, I'm afraid that you will.
Joan Brandwyn:
Not as much as I'd regret not having a family, not being there to raise them. I know exactly what I'm doing and it doesn't make me any less smart. This must seem terrible to you.
Katherine Watson:
I didn't say that.
Joan Brandwyn:
Sure you did. You always do. You stand in class and tell us to look beyond the image, but you don't. To you a housewife is someone who sold her soul for a center hall colonial. She has no depth, no intellect, no interests. You're the one who said I could do anything I wanted. This is what I want.
Joey:
Okay, some tricks of the trade. Now, I've never been able to cry as an actor, so if I'm in a scene where I have to cry, I cut a hole in my pocket, take a pair of tweezers, and just start pulling. Or ah, or, let's say I wanna convey that I've just done something evil. That would be the basic 'I have a fishhook in my eyebrow and I like it' [Does it by raising one eyebrow, and showing off the pretend fishhook]
Joey:
Okay, let's say I've just gotten bad news, well all I do there is try and divide 232 by 13. [looks all confused]
Joey:
And that's how it's done. Great soap opera acting tonight everybody, class dismissed.
Hunter:
Rivetti, what's up?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
I'm sorry, Sir. It's just a difference of opinion that got out of hand.
Hunter:
What about?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
It's really too silly to talk about, Sir. I'd really just forget about...
Hunter:
I don't give a damn about what you'd rather forget about. Why were you two fighting?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
I said, the Kirby Silver Surfer was the only real Silver Surfer. And that the Moebius Silver Surfer was shit. And Bennefield's a big Moebius fan. And it got of hand. I pushed him. He pushed me. I lost my head, Sir. I'm Sorry.
Hunter:
Rivetti, you're a supervisor. You can get a commission like that. [Snaps finger]
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
I know, Sir. You're 100 percent right. It will never happen again.
Hunter:
It better not happen again. If I see this kind of nonsense again, I'm going to write you up. You understand?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
[No answer]
Hunter:
Do you understand?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
Yes, Sir.
Hunter:
You have to set an example even in the face of stupidity. Everybody who reads comic books knows that the Kirby Silver Surfer is the only true Silver Surfer. Now am I right or wrong?
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
You're right, Sir.
Hunter:
Now get out of here.
Petty Officer First Class Danny Rivetti:
Yes, Sir.
Tom Ripley:
First of all I know there's something. That evening when we played chess for instance it was obvious.
Dickie Greenleaf:
What evening?
Tom Ripley:
Oh sure, no, no, it's too dangerous for you to take on. Oh, no, no, we're brothers. Hey. And then you do this sordid thing with Marge. Fucking her on the boat so we all have to listen. Which was excruciating! And you follow your cock around and now you're getting married! I'm bewildered, forgive me. You're lying to Marge and then you're getting married to her. You're knocking up Silvana. You're ruining everybody. You wanna play the sax, you wanna play the drums. What is it, Dickie? What do you actually want?
Dickie Greenleaf:
Who are you? Huh? Some third class loser? Who are you? Who are you to say anything to me? Who are you to tell me anything? Actually I really, really don't want to be on this boat with you. I can't move without you moving. Gives me the creeps. You give me the creeps!
Verena Von Stefan:
Right. Just imagine, we'll have to wash our hair every night. We'll have to sleep on rollers til our scalps bleed. Then we'll have to get up at six every morning for the comb out. Your lungs will be lined with hairspray. Then you need all this equipment to push up the tits and blitz the zits and spray the pits! Then you stagger into class and you look perfect but you're exhausted, you're too tired to even think but that's okay the teachers they won't call on you anyway, also you don't want to be smarter than the boys. They don't like that, so to wake yourself up you drink some coffee at lunch but don't eat the food. You'll be a permanent diet!
Tweety:
I'm not going to change the way I am just because boys are around.
Verena Von Stefan:
Come off it Tweety. I've seen you at school dances its like the three faces of Eve. You turn into this simpering wretch and the whole next week we have to put up with your suicide attempts because your date didn't like you!
Tweety:
Verena!
Momo:
Now you've done it. That was really uncalled for vagina.
Tinka Parker:
Look Von Stefan, I know you like this place the way it is but wake up it's not real life, real life is boy girl boy girl.
Verena Von Stefan:
No! Real life is boy *on top* of girl!
Momo:
Would you two stop it.
Verena Von Stefan:
You should know that.
Odette:
Look, it looks like this is going to happen whether we like it or not so we're just gonna have to adjust.
Tinka Parker:
Yes, we'll just have to adjust.
Verena Von Stefan:
Where would we be today if President Kennedy had said 'Oh well, looks like we'll just have to adjust to living in the shadow of nuclear warheads on Cuba'.
Momo:
There ya go.
Odette:
They're just boys Verena, not communists.
Verena Von Stefan:
I'm not gonna live in the shadow of the Hairy Bird!
Tinka Parker:
Well that's your prob. You're afraid of boys!
Verena Von Stefan:
You'd be scared too except you've got nothing left to lose Miss Tinka!
Momo:
Order! Order!
Tinka Parker:
Prude!
Verena Von Stefan:
Tramp!
Tweety:
Truce you guys! Quiet. Have some ravioli.
Judge Dredd:
[During an "Ethics" class, Dredd fires continuously at a "Judge" helmet and armor] ... The Judge's standard-issue helmet and body armor. Yours, when you graduate. Lawgiver-2 standard-issue sidearm, with 20 interchangeable rounds and voice-activated round system. [to the Lawgiver]
Judge Dredd:
Signal flare. [fires a signal flare into the wall]
Judge Dredd:
Yours, IF you graduate. [walks over to a futuristic motorcycle]
Judge Dredd:
Lawmaster, with rapid-firing cannons and a range of 500 kilometers. [turns it on; it malfunctions]
Judge Dredd:
Yours... if you can ever get it to work. [cadets laugh]
Judge Dredd:
All the things you see are toys; at the end of the day, when you're alone in the dark, the only thing that matters is this... [holds up the Book of the Law]
Judge Dredd:
...the Law. [slams the Book onto the table]
Judge Dredd:
You WILL be alone. Upon retirement, you will take the Long Walk... which every Judge takes, outside these city walls, into the Cursed Earth. There you will remain for the last of your days, alone and carrying the Law. Class dismissed.
Molly Gunn:
I'm so sorry, Mrs Schleine.
Roma Schleine:
Thank you for coming, Miss Gunn.
Molly Gunn:
Are you kidding? Nothing could keep me away at a time like this.
Roma Schleine:
[she places a check in front of Molly] Last week's pay and a month's severance.
Molly Gunn:
Severance?
Roma Schleine:
We're letting you go.
Molly Gunn:
We?
Roma Schleine:
That's right. Me and Ray. We. Goodnight, Miss Gunn.
Molly Gunn:
I'm sorry, but I'm not leaving without an explanation.
Roma Schleine:
I don't know what's been going on between you and my daughter, but she has made it clear that she never wants to see you again.
Molly Gunn:
She must be going out of her mind with grief.
Roma Schleine:
Actually, she's taking it rather well. I was at my staff meeting when I got the news about my husband. I came home to find Ray doing her homework. She's been very calm and level-headed about this whole affair.
Molly Gunn:
You call that taking it well? Do you know what etage your daughter's at in ballet? Or that she was banned from her science class for stealing a formaldehyde pig so she could give it a proper burial? The tea set you got her... it's exquisite and beautiful, but do you know how she likes to have her tea, how many lumps... one,two... cream,sugar?
Roma Schleine:
And the point of your little tirade is...
Molly Gunn:
You're right. You don't know what goes on between me and Ray because you don't know very much about your own daughter.
Roma Schleine:
I know my daughter well enough to respect her wishes.
Molly Gunn:
You don't give her respect. You give her whatever she asks for so you don't have to deal wit her. She's eight years old. She is not twenty-eight. Please remember that the next time you show her some respect. [storms out]
Rashad:
Also, when we get the funds, we should gather all the parents at your church, Reverend Blunton, and you give an encouraging speech before handing over the check to the principal of Stuyvesant.
Rev. Jones:
An encouraging speech.
Rashad:
Yeah. I could hear it now. Blunton giving a speech, directed at the poor black folks, denouncing further spending on depreciable products while investing more in their children's education. We'll be leading by example when handing over the check.
Sandra:
What?
Alex:
Poor black people?
Rashad:
Blunton can also encourage everyone to start celebrate black intellectual ability, not just athletes and rappers.
Courtney:
Who doesn't do that now?
Rashad:
Most black people I grew up with.
Blunton:
I'm not doing anything of the kind.
Rashad:
Why not? The dropout rate was at its highest last year at the Stuy. Education is no big deal to them.
Sandra:
Rashad. It would make Cal look like a... middle class elitist.
Alex:
An obnoxious, middle class elitist.
Courtney:
A non authentically black, obnoxious, middle class elitist.
