1
When I look back on my
Sophomore year in high school,
I was...well...
a uniquely tragic wreck.
In subsequent time,
there have been some,
friend and foe alike who have come
to question this claim.
But I come armed with proof.
At times like these I like to think
about the moments
before I go on a roller coaster
and feel the need
to emulate announcements one might
hear while waiting in line for such a ride.
Because what you are about to witness
is not for the weak-of-heart,
the easily offended
or those individuals who suffer
from a fragile constitution.
If you fall into any of these categories,
I would urge you:
leave now.
Pregnant women are cautioned as well.
Anyway, that's me:
right there, Chance Marquis.
A name my dear departed
mother thought
apropos for the gamble
she took on having me.
High school's a mess
for a lot of us, I realize.
But in comparison to my mess,
you might feel a twinge of guilt
for ever thinking yours was
at all challenging.
After all,
everything's about perspective,
is it not?
So, allow me to provide you
with some...
...Oh but this isn't
where my story begins.
It starts one year earlier
when I entered
Brickland International High School
as a transfer.
My fourth new school in the last four years
and my first time in Europe.
Keep in mind, this was the '80s.
Sometimes known as
the decade fashion forgot.
Like leg warmers,
always essential when getting ready
for first period Algebra.
There was also a preponderance of
thin ties and mullet haircuts.
In any case,
even then I recognized all
this conformity as tragic.
That one day we'd look back
on the parachute pants
and obsession over Smurfs
and ask ourselves...
Why?
But if the fashion was nightmare-ish
at least the music was good...
which provided a fairly accurate soundtrack
to the comic tragedy
that was my life back then.
I was assigned locker No. 13.
I was assigned locker No. 13.
It was a bad omen...and then this:
Within minutes, it was evident,
I was in hell...
literally.
We've got spirit, yes we do!
We've got spirit and how 'bout you?!
I think it's in my locker...
trying to get out, apparently.
Faggot.
Oh really, no...
don't feel the need to announce your
your sexual-persuasion for my benefit.
Not me, man. You!
I can smell the stench all over you.
It stinks!
Which begs the question:
What were you just sniffing
to pick up the scent?
Their jock-straps?
Listen,
here's the rule, Mr. Peanut.
You do not speak to me unless
I give you permission.
You understand?
I understand.
I'm just not going to comply.
I did not give you permission to speak,
homo-breath!
He is making me crabby.
And here I thought
that was your natural state... Aahhh!
Brad, what are you doing?
And who's he?
Dead meat in about 2 seconds.
Can you like,
pull yourself away from
your senseless terrorizing?
We need to talk.
Did you 'like' get permission?
You better shut-it man!
Oh my god, is he, like, raging again?
You shut it too, Rachel!
Brad, Brad...
Come on, let's go.
I'm telling you, Willy Wonka is history.
Brad Harden...
and cronies.
I would ruminate more,
but we'll just let Brad read his own lines,
only in the more Neanderthal manner
befitting his 'character'.
Are you Chance Marquis?
The one and only.
Great!
I'm Loretta Getzick,
Devil's Advocate Senior Sports Editor...
And you're on my team.
Um, you know I don't really do sports.
I know that most baseball uniforms
are inexplicably
made of a cotton-polyester blend,
but that's about the extent of it.
Ah, you'll learn then.
We have an open slot and Ms. Utterbach
assigned you.
Well, is Ms. 'Ootle-blagh' unaware of my knack
of
covering the daily antics of Rosemary Clooney?
Or my witty commentaries
on student fashion tragedies?
It was all in my resume...
I really have no idea
what you're talking about,
nor do I care.
Joey,
five hundred words on newest
swim team member, Sara Bagshawe.
'Is that a Dolphin in our pool?'
Kimmie, in-depth interview with
Reichen Froman,
the team mascot.
Some art students made
a new devil head for the costume.
'Too Scary or Too Merry?'
And, a big Brickland Devil's Times
welcome to...Chance!
Full-feature on the varsity football team.
I know!
We're going to see what he's made of.
In-depth interviews with players,
coaches and fans.
'Is this the year we win it all?'
All what?
Hank Hudson, Staff Photographer.
Loretta Go-Get-Em assigned me to
snap some shots
for your football piece.
Where do you want to start?
Over.
Let me ask you this,
staff-photographer-Hank-Hudson:
do you have knowledge
of this football?
Football?
Footooboo...
Well, I know that
when they play it in America,
they call it soccer,
but it looks the same
and if you touch the ball with your hands,
they kick you out.
Forever.
Or do they make you a goalie...?
What's in your case?
What's in yours?
I don't have one.
One what?
Freak.
But curiously enough,
I was warming up to him.
Huh! Urgh!
Take a picture, it'll last longer.
If that was her way of making
a witty first- impression,
then my guess was that the
pulled-too-tight pony tail
was cutting-off blood flow
to her brain.
I don't 'do' tennis.
Forty-love and deuce and shit...
no wonder the British lost,
can't even figure out
how to score stuff.
The origin of scoring
is French actually,
bastardized into English.
Deuce for instance,
being a corruption of 'deux',
meaning two consecutive exchanges
needed to win.
Now 'love' is either a vulgarisation
of the word 'l'oeuf'...
Please, your dorkiness
was already established with
the top-hat and cane.
Look,
Heretic can't see over
to this backstop.
Which means
I don't have to hit a stupid ball
against a wall for 45 minutes.
So fascinating!
Heretic?
Coach Hera.
The troglodyte
from sex-reassignment hell.
Really?
She was a he?
In actuality,
who the hell knows?
in my made-up reality,
yes!
I'm Chance.
Your reality just might fascinate me.
Twyla.
And your pasty-white legs
definitely repulse me.
If the shorts weren't so dark,
the contrast would be lessened.
Ergo, my legs would not appear
so falsely pale.
You don't have many friends,
do you Chance?
I just moved here.
So far, I hate it.
Not likely to change.
Chance Marquis,
please report to Administration.
Now.
Admin's that way...
Chance Marquis...
Vice Principal Ophelia Smelker.
As disturbing in-person as she
appears in her photos,
and quite possibly the most odorous human
I've ever encountered...
and not in a pleasing way.
Remove the hat, please.
Looking over your file here...
Transfer records, report cards,
personal items.
Why aren't you enrolled
in our mixed choir?
Uh, polyps.
I beg your pardon.
Polyps. On my vocal cords.
I can't sing until they heal.
What about surgery?
It's against our religion.
Which is...?
Not to be discussed.
Your permanent records show,
among other things,
instances of misbehavior,
insubordination and episodes of...
channelling deceased torch singers,
such as: Rosemary Clooney, Dionne Warwick
and Ethel Merman.
Care to explain that one?
I'd rather not, it's personal.
And quite frankly,
I don't remember because
I'm not 'au courant' when it happens.
There's one thing you will have to explain:
your locker.
Destruction of school property
is a severe offense.
As it should be.
But my question to you would be this:
what branch of logic do you cleave to
that would explain why I
would destroy my own locker?
The first day of school
is often filled with rage...
especially for transfer students.
V-P Smelker runs a tight ship here
at Brickland High.
Her tolerance is low for wiseacres.
And even lower for weirdoes.
CAPEESH?!
I was unaware that overweight women from the
Eastern block used words like 'capeesh'.
Then Mrs. Zito split us into groups.
I'm in the 'Alligators' for math and science.
And where do the Alligators rank?
Starts with an 'A', Sir. Duh! Tippy-top.
Outstanding. Excellent!
What's that doing on the table?
Chance wore it to school today.
What next, a dress?
My dad.
A man who never met a rule
he didn't try out at least once...
or a firearm.
What kind of reaction do you get when
you show up with something like that on?
It varies.
The people behind me get upset because
they can't see the blackboard...
Due to the hat.
Mostly, they just miss the point.
Which is what, exactly?
That my chosen expression of
individualism should be embraced,
not ridiculed.
Someone hit him in the head
with a tennis ball.
Then he got sent
to the Vice Principal
after a bully called him
a homosexual.
Sienna,
my real sister with the fake accent.
I tell her everything and, quite often,
live to regret it.
Why did they send you
to the principal's office for that?
Long story.
She already has it out for me though.
She's also one of the largest women
I've ever seen...
like circus-large.
I'm sure if she were to grow a beard,
which I'm quite certain she's capable of-
Chance,
understood.
Sounds like
you had a rough day, Cadet.
But I think you forgot
rule number one,
which is: when kids call you names,
you stand up for yourself
like a man.
I think he needs more R-T-T.
Retrograde Tactical Training?
Roger that.
What did you enjoy most about that?
Jujitsu.
Aye!
When I was nine.
'Kids' aren't calling me names.
One of them, Brad Harden,
called me 'homo-breath,'
but he started off with 'faggot'.
Chance,
you know I don't like to hear
that word in this house.
As opposed to just living with one?
Getting settled in?
Listen Chance,
a unit is only as strong
as its weakest link.
It's my job to shore up the links.
Do you understand?
Chance,
understood?
Lights out soon.
I said come back here right now.
Don't walk away from me,
we're not done discussing this!
Well, I'm done discussing it!
Did you ever think that playing football
is not the answer to everything?
Then explain to me how you're
gonna pay for your tuition!
How are you gonna pay
for your studies?!
You think its me
who's gonna pay for that!
I don't care,
I'll figure something out!
Don't blow this
football scholarship, Lee.
Start figuring that out and soon!!
Sometimes life has a strange way of giving
you EXACTLY what you want.
And then making you pay,
dearly.
So, does your dad keep like,
guns and artillery at home?
Uh, affirmative.
The hand-grenades are stored
in the dining buffet
and he only loads the semi-automatics,
but we feel very safe.
Are you trying to piss me off on purpose?
Because sittin' here
with you two losers is doing
nothing for my reputation.
And, for the record...you are poison.
And you're... plain toxic.
Well, your reputation, from what
I observe, is pretty much non-existent.
So at least being seen with us,
you have fumes of relevance.
It's a step up in my book.
Do you smell that?
Students...
On the bench Miss Tiller.
Tables are not chairs.
Mr. Hudson,
open your briefcase please.
Why?
A general inspection.
This is private property.
That's illegal search and seizure.
Not on this campus.
This school is beholden
to a different law:
'V-P Smelker's Law.'
OPEN IT!
What happened to your eye?
Nothing,
why do you inquire?
Could you move those?
Ahh, I missed
the first two days of class...
Ms. Hughes said you
were the only solo left.
Guess that makes us lab partners.
Well, I pride myself on being the last
chosen, not only in sports,
but in combustible experiments as well.
I'm Levi.
Uh, Chance Marquis.
Chance. C-H-A-N-C-E. Chance.
I think we're neighbors...
I don't suppose you'd believe
I have an identical twin brother
who looks exactly like me...
I can show you how to rig your
cable box for the porn channels.
Hey, forget about it -
I already have. Okay?
I wish my ex-girlfriend looked at me
like that a couple of times, though.
What happened to your eye?
Nothing.
Why?
Hey, Cinderfella,
the women's locker room
is on the other side.
Oh! Um...
Listen up sporty-type-fellas.
Look, I'm doing a piece on the team
for the paper and was really, really
hoping for some interviews?
You breakin' my no-talk rule again?
Why do you have to defy me? Huh?!
Call me a masochist.
I'll call you a douche-bag,
'cuz that's what you are.
Listen up!
As the team captain,
I'm giving a direct order here...
Nobody talks to the douche-bag
about our team.
You got it?
Not one word, okay?
How come?
Well, you see Gus man...
that's why I'm here.
To think when your brain pauses.
You don't want homosexuals
in your head.
Give 'em a crack and
you're listenin' to 'Sister Christian'
and jerking off
to pictures of Patrick Swayze!
Night Ranger's gay?
Well, who knows man,
but that fuckin' song is!
Patrick Swayze pictures?
Or Rick Springfield,
you know whoever!
Look, the point is...
he'll just write some girlie article
that'll make us look like girls!
I'm sorry fruit-fly,
but that's the way the fudge is packed.
Why do you let him call you those names?
Well, where I show anger and agitation over
his derogatory comments regarding what I am,
I bequeath him power, no?
And I've deduced that since Brad's intelligence
hovers only slightly above that of burnt toast,
why give him that kind of control over me?
The 'Split Infinitives' ladies and gentlemen.
Not bad, huh?
A back-beat would help.
Drummer's taking a leak.
What do you think?
Ah, I... I think,
Foreigner songs
are better left to... Foreigner?
That wasn't Foreigner.
Do you ever cover the Carpenters?
Karen has a lovely voice.
Hey! What's the faggot doing here?
Your band is dreadful.
But they're actually
a lot better without you!
A real cute kid.
Take a chill-pill,
you'll totally smell her before
she gets within 50 yards.
A hundred if we're downwind.
She's in my nightmares.
She IS my nightmares...
Hey, you guys wanna go into
the city this weekend?
I have this day-long photo project,
what I have to do, see,
is take a picture
every hour of the same thing and-
Okay. We'll go.
And for future reference,
we don't care that much about
your photo projects.
So fascinating!
Can I just ask:
what's proper protocol should this
vehicle spontaneously combust?
Look Prince Weird-Clothes,
if his highness would rather walk,
I can pull over right now.
Zip it...
Finally.
Can we do something interesting now?
I thought we were.
Do we look interested?
It's sort of hard to tell,
cuz the two of you never look
interested in anything.
I have an idea...
I'm just not sure if two of you
are man enough...
Are you?
Agreed. Stupid question.
Of course you are, Sir.
C'mon girls.
This looks like a nice
upscale neighborhood.
Look out for the curve...
Relax... I'm parking.
Those things will kill you.
They're much like dark alleys that way.
Club Red and Blue.
Twenty-one and over.
So we're going in the side entrance.
With what?
A battering ram and fake police badges?
C'mon, just follow me.
What kind of club is this?
You'll see.
Hey Sasha.
Hi Twyla, how are you?
I'm sixteen,
in high school
and I got two losers in-tow.
Life just continues
to suck big ostrich eggs.
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
You lost, sweetie?
Help me with the dress, will you.
So schoolboy,
how do they call you?
Chance Marquis.
Claire Vuoyant.
What a fabulous name.
Give my regards
to the angel who named you.
That would be my dear-departed mother.
May she rest in peace.
Claire Vuoyant,
I like it.
I can see queerly now!
So, how old are you?
Uh...twenty-two.
Yeah, right. Six years from now, baby.
Hum ! You don't bullshit a drag,
especially when she's known for her
precognitive powers.
It only leads to a heartache
and a sore rear.
I think we're scaring
Oliver Twist over here, ladies!
I'm not scared.
Good, because with a little glitter
and a fabulous dress
get your britches in a twist,
you'll positively faint
when Lily Pad over there,
takes her thong off.
You were great out there tonight.
Thank you, Rex Reed.
Oh, don't mention the hair?
The dress?
The dress was a star tonight!
The whole package was astounding.
Well, if done correctly,
the package was invisible.
Where's Chance?
He was right behind me.
Go find him!
What're you going to do?
Wait. Have a cigarette.
Ponder why dweebs are drawn to me.
Well, you don't learn it, per se.
It's more like...
it just pops out one day.
Then you refine.
Find the right dress, the right song,
right name, and then you practice
till your feet bleed.
Bitch,
your feet wouldn't bleed if you'd admit
to their actual big-ass largeness
and stop wearing size-sixes.
Lily, until you stop menstruating,
talk to the hand!
You're all so sassy and sarcastic,
but no one retaliates
in a truly harmful way.
I saw that bitch!
Don't make me replace your
crack with baking soda!
Chance?
Here,
you should try it some time.
I think you'd be a natural.
Just remember, Chance,
this is an illusion.
You have to make everyone believe.
Starting with yourself.
No-no, if you wait to jump
a half-second longer,
the frog can make it across
in a straight shot, but--
Hey, Tinkerbell!
So how's the story going, man?
You want a quote?
Yup.
Someday soon,
when you least expect it,
I am gonna totally kick
your fairy-ass.
Brad, can we go?
Just screwin' with him baby,
just screwin' with him.
Hmmm.... peanuts,
don't mind if I do.
You familiar with the concept of REVENGE?
Yeah, ever since Judy Hatteberg
appropriated my chalk in kindergarten.
She paid.
You're a shark, and Brad's the remora,
suctioned to you tighter than spandex
on David Lee Roth.
So, there's only one thing to do:
grab it by its tail,
rip it from your flesh
and then SMASH IT!
High school is like Darwinism in a test tube:
survival of the fittest.
Only here, because Brad outweighs
you by fifty pounds,
fit equals smart.
Hey Chance,
you still need someone to interview
for your story?
Why?
Did you take pity on me and convince your
best friend and favorite drummer,
Brad Harden, to sit for an interview?
Brad hates you.
Besides, the only thing
that convinces Brad of anything
is Brad.
Or Toni.
But even then, it's only when
she's denying him sex.
Anyway, I was thinkin' you
could interview me.
Well, I hate to point out the fact that
you might be as dense as a redwood, Levi,
but I need to interview someone who
actually plays on the team.
Ergo, not you.
I appreciate the insult.
What insult?
I'm a first-string forward.
I haven't been practicing
because of a knee injury,
but it should be okay by
the season opener.
Wait, wait... What?
You're getting around
to telling me this, now?
I thought you'd appreciate the,
you know...
dramatic pause.
Why?
Aren't your people all into
drama and stuff?
You're so correct, right up there with
gingham and party-planning.
My 'people' are also into
the fashionably ironic,
but I'll make an exception in your case.
Hey! I can be ironic!
Dang, is this inside out?
What's your favorite kind of music?
I like lots of music.
Correction. I love music.
When is your band playing next?
'Seventh Annual
Battle-of-the-High-School-Bands'
The winner gets one-free-week studio time,
and a guaranteed listen of their music by
some big London music producer.
Pretty sweet, huh?
I think we have a real shot.
Who, 'we'?
The Split-Infinitives!
We're gonna rock the shit.
Can I be honest with you, Chance?
Music is my life.
It's everything.
I can feel it, in my soul.
You know?
Well, can I be honest with you?
From what I heard, your band is...
how do I best put this:
God-awful.
Fetid. Pedicular.
And by pedicular, I mean lousy.
I don't expect you to get it.
People who feel the music,
who can't live without it,
they get it.
Besides, we'll get better.
Levi?
Oh, didn't know you had company.
This is Chance.
He lives next door.
How's the knee, you run today?
Chance is writing an article on the team
for the school paper.
That right?
Lee's the best!
He's gonna have U.S. university recruiters
salivating over him this year,
right, Lee?
Right, Dad.
The rain in Spain
flows mainly in the plain...
Braid my hair?
'Split Infinitives'
- that's a stupid name for a band, I think.
You're a way better singer than he is.
How is it you state things with such
atypical certainty and authority?
And in such a flawless, bogus accent?
It's like you know exactly what everyone
should be doing...
Or what they should be.
Not what, who.
For instance, I am a beauty queen.
Do I push that away? No,
I embrace it.
And mastering this accent is the
final piece in the puzzle...
that is, Miss U.K. Junior
twelve-and-under.
Everyone should embrace who they are.
Including you.
Well, you'll learn as you get older,
you actually know less about who you are.
That's just silly talk.
I know who you are.
And what you should be.
There you go.
Thanks!
Bee-rilliant!
You really came through, Chance.
Good job!
Hank, your photos are totally wicked!
I think the team's going to read it
and be inspired.
It's going to be a good season!
They're going to blow.
Most assuredly.
Brilliant!
Good to have your bender back.
Yeah.
So uh... I gotta ask,
what were you thinking?
You know, talkin' to
the jack-off for his story?
It's just a stupid article, who cares?
Well, everyone man.
And now it's in print.
Forever.
Look, I don't know if you noticed lately,
but we are the shit around here.
Gods, man. And I've worked way too hard
to let you throw that away
by hanging with some
lunatic-fringe fairy-queen.
He's turning you into a joke, Levi.
And you don't even see it.
You give him too much credit.
No, the credit's all yours!
Stay away from him, man.
Is that a threat?
What are you looking for?
A little peace and quiet.
This was her favorite.
It's beautifully crafted.
Look at the beading detail.
A timeless fashion.
Exquisite...
Why are you looking through
Mom's old dresses?
Don't you have
a tiara to polish?
Hey, Levi.
I just wanted to say thanks again,
for aiding me with my article.
I thought you might like some of Hank's
photos of you at soccer practice...
Uh, hello?
Thanks, but I'll pass.
Chance do you have a--
Close the door!
It's not bad...
Have you ever heard of lip-liner?
Hello?!
If Cyndi Lauper can manage it,
so can you.
Your foundation is a tad uneven.
Is this your outfit for school tomorrow?
You're going to enter?
Teenagers get to do all the fun stuff.
I don't know how much fun it'll be
after ten minutes in heels.
I can show you wear to put band-aids.
They'll keep your feet from blistering.
Hey, don't tell anyone about this.
Especially not Sir.
If anyone I know sees me like this,
I am done for.
No matter how well I pull it off.
Jesus and Mary
and our Commander-in-Chief,
Ronald Reagan!
What the hell are we doing here?!
Is that your mother's dress?
It shouldn't go to waste.
I did his make-up.
Well, you did a very nice job, Honey...
Okay.
He wanted to spare your feelings,
but truthfully, I could tell...
he thinks your eye shadow is too dark.
Doesn't anyone ever knock in this house?
The Debbie-Gibson-Red
is definitely your color.
Stay calm.
Sasha means well, he thinks he can find for
every queen her name and 'inner song'.
It only should take a second.
Pepper Madison.
Dancing Queen!
Are you sure?
Listen to me Pepper,
if you sing 'Dancing Queen'
you will be the star performer of the night.
I might even make you a regular.
I didn't practice Dancing Queen.
Don't worry, Sasha means well,
but he's a little bit funny in the head.
He always want us to sing 'Dancing Queen.'
Are you nervous?
A little bit...
Yeah...
Okay, a lotta bit.
Don't worry. Butterflies are good.
But think about this:
failure is not an option.
And whatever you do tonight
don't turn on the mic.
Ok?
But you'll be a star tonight.
Claire Vuoyant everyone...
always hard to top.
In fact, I have it on good authority
she has her ass tattooed:
'No Entry.'
'For eight-inches and under.'
Okay, let's keep this train-wreck
of a night going.
Next up is a first-timer, so ladies,
keep those beer bottles in your
mouths where they belong.
Here she is: Lucky Chance!
I was bom to run
I was born to dream
Craziest boy you've ever seen
I've gotta do it my way
Or no way at all
And I was here to please
I'm even on my knees
Making love to whoever I please
I've gotta do it my way
Or no way at all
And then you came around
Tryin' to tie me down
I was such a clown
You had to have it your way
Or no way at all
Why don't you turn me loose
Turn me loose, turn me loose
I've gotta have it my way
Or no way at all
Why don't you turn me loose
Turn me loose, turn me loose
I've gotta have it my way
Or no way at all
And I'm here to please
Even on my knees
Making love to whoever I please
I've gotta do it my way
What's going on?
The Split Infinitives have officially...
split.
Grammar police cracking down?
Look Chance, I don't mean
to be a jerk or nothing, but--
But you just decided to be one anyway.
Listen, I can't really hang with you anymore.
My dad's being a hard-ass about football,
and concentrating on getting a scholarship.
That's why he made you quit the band?
What happened to your whole
'music is my life' mantra?
Well,
it's like you said, we're...
What was it?
Pedicular?
So, no big loss.
I don't know a meteor could hit the earth,
causing you to get better.
I think I saw it once in an Ed Wood film.
I know the real reason you
don't want to be seen with me.
It's not what you think.
I don't care that you dig guys.
I believe that.
But you do care
if other people think you do...
by way of association.
I never realized Brad had
so much sway over you.
Usually the drummer is the most expendable.
Look, I don't expect you to get it.
There's a news flash.
You don't expect me to get much, do you?
Continually underestimating me
for some unknown reason.
You're not as complicated
as you think you are.
How the hell would you know?
I'm a teenager, too.
And infinitely
more complicated than you.
Is that so?
I don't see any dresses in your closet.
It's okay.
Guys like you are never friends
with the likes of me.
So in that regard,
you turned out true to form.
Ouch.
Someday, you're gonna have
to stand up to people.
People like Brad...
like your father.
Eventually maybe even yourself.
So, how's your
revenge-on-Brad plan coming?
Yeah, what you got?
A headache.
Besides, I think
he's forgotten about me.
I'm off his radar.
Jerk!
Hey!
Look, Whoopi,
it ain't my fault his big fat face
got in the way, okay?
Hey! Marquis...
next time, duck.
Like the chicken you are.
That makes no sense.
On a pure poultry level.
Hey! Jimmy Olsen,
no one's talking to you.
Why are you so angry all the time?
What did I even do to you?
Invaded my school.
I mean, your presence alone is enough
to make me wanna puke.
Don't you get it man?
You don't belong here.
So, leave.
Fairy Academy is back in the states.
They're waiting for you.
Let's go, man.
Forget about it man,
well beat him up tomorrow.
So, what was that all about being
'off his radar'?
A man can't go on like this.
Or you, even.
Do something!
I know why he's so angry all the time.
This plan is unwise.
Not to mention, uncouth.
It's high-risk, I agree.
Grow some balls! The both of you.
And stop talking like
a forty-year-old British fop.
It's bizarro.
If I do like this--
Abort.
and if I do this-
Then the abort is off and we're back on.
But then, if I do...
Mr. Samsonite, shut it!
Okay, Air Craft Carrier Smelker
has passed.
C'mon!
I need to see the nurse!
I'm dying.
Not before I get a petition form.
The food at this institution is not fit for
sub-species consumption, let alone humans.
One at a time, boys, please I am alone here.
Are you okay?
Oh my God!
What's wrong with him?
You know, I'm certainly no medical expert, but...
...from the looks of it...
I'd say... He's dying!
It's moved from his throat!
Maybe it's a parasite.
I'm calling the nurse!
Don't leave me!
Not yet.
Stay away from the light...
Stay away from the light...
I think he's trying to confess.
Are you properly trained
in the giving of last rites?
I don't know.
Oh no! Don't go, Hank!..
Don't go...
GO!..He was so sweet--
I'm okay...
What's happening here?
Allergies.
They come and go.
You were very comforting, though.
Oh...you know...and on second thought...
the food is just fine.
You got the combination?
She might smell,
but at least her files are organized.
So, when do we do it?
After school.
We just broke into
the Vice Principal's office!
Knowing Smelker, she could parlay
that into my beheading.
Dammit Marquis,
don't wussy out on me.
Or do you like getting smacked
in the face by balls?
Don't answer that.
All I'm trying to say, if you want Brad to keep
wailing on you, then fine--
Wait, wait, NO!
Let me just see what's in his locker first,
then I'll decide.
Someone loves himself.
Hey! Wait up!
What's that?
The holy grail...
'Roid Rage.
He's been on it
for at least a year.
How do you know all this?
Toni Durazo, his fetching girlfriend,
sits next to me in photo.
Her best friend Rachel is behind me
and when notes pass, I'm the go-between.
Sometimes they don't bother to fold them.
And this one time, Toni asked me--
Okay, got it.
You can read and you've got
a hard-on for Toni.
So fascinating!
What do we do now exactly?
What do we do now?
A student taking steroids...
We blow the whistle.
Brad gets caught red handed & BOOM!
Expulsion. Poof!
Gone from Brickland like
a bad case of ringworm.
It's so perfect,
it makes me want to cry.
How?...
Does it go down, I mean?
Go down?
An anonymous tip.
Seize the day, Chance.
Rid our society from
pond-scum like Brad Harden.
Opportunities like this
don't come along every day.
So remember,
it's survival of the smartest.
I know where you live, Dorkus.
Hey, lighten up.
I don't really think you're a dorkus.
I know you don't.
Why is it you so often
forget my superior intellect...
and nascent ability to process your rudimentary
attempts at sarcasm?--
Shut it! Before I
purposely drive into a pole.
So, um...
...when did you know you were...
...you know...
A homosexual?
I don't know. When did you know
you were a breeder?
Still not completely sure if I am.
I've set for eighteen to twenty-three
to be my 'experimental years.'
I have a plan.
Four.
Four what?
When I was four,
my dear-departed mother took me to a
production of The Nutcracker.
It was colorful, and dramatic
and the music was great.
But just one thing held my attention
above everything else:
a dancer.
Male.
Shirtless through the entire play.
I couldn't stop looking at him.
Of course, I didn't really understand
why then, but...
I do now.
Very touching, Marquis.
Excuse me while I vomit.
Look, I don't care if you're gay,
but most people in school do.
So...
It's just...
If that alone
makes you such a huge target,
why do you give 'em more ammo
by acting and dressing the way you do?
Well,
if you have the choice between being
ostracized for wearing a weird hat,
or being gay...
which one would you pick?
Thanks for the ride home.
And thanks for looking out for me.
I loved your football pictures in the paper.
You did?
Thanks.
Can I see?
Umm...
Sure.
These are great.
Who is this? Your sister?
Not exactly.
Is that...
...Chance?
Yeah!
We went to this club in the city and he
performed with a bunch of other drag queens.
It was great!
He was awesome!
Did you take these for the school paper?
No. I'm just developing them for Chance.
I mean...
I don't think he really wants
anyone to know...
you know?
Oh,
sure, yeah.
His secret's safe with me.
Umm... Hey, do you have
any high-gloss paper I could borrow?
Sure...
Oh, I left it in the classroom.
I'll go get it.
All I know is I didn't risk my life
sneaking into Smelt-her's office
to get information you're not
even gonna use now!
But...
I continue to appreciate the
creation of the plan
and its stealth-like deployment.
Yours is a leadership even my
father would hold dear.
But I hate to point out the fact that you
didn't actually risk your life.
Have you ever been in that office?
It took everything in me
to avoid asphyxiation.
Point taken.
So you're just gonna let Brad
keep beating on you?
UHH! Ahh!
Look, I've been
in this situation before...
eventually Brad will get tired of me and
move on to helpless freshmen.
Puppies.
And speaking frankly...
tattletale-ing is beneath me.
And you for that matter.
He's not going to move on, Chance.
I know his kind.
Brad is like a cat toying with a mouse
before going in for the kill.
You act like
none of this stuff bothers you,
like it's a nuisance.
You talk a good game.
It even made me think that you were
strong...like everyone underestimates you.
But that's all it is:
talk.
You're a coward, Chance.
A mouse.
Brad's mouse.
Marquis, you're out!
Dear students,
do not forget
your essays for next Monday.
You should write 500 words,
not less,
and I have a
very nice reading task for you:
you should read Act One of Macbeth,
one of Shakespeare's greatest tragedies.
There is also a reminder
on the blackboard,
you do not use cliff notes, okay?
Time for literature now...
this book: The Count of Monte Cristo
written by Alexandre Dumas...
Oh man, Boy-George is so going to wish he
never stepped foot in this school.
Hey Cadet,...
come on in here.
I thought we'd do this together.
Hai!
You gotta be tough, Chance.
It's the only way
to survive in this life.
Did it ever occur to you that maybe
I already am tough?
What? No, that's not what I meant-
I didn't think so.
But then again, why would you
when you've spent your entire adult life
being trained to discern that
which is only directly in
front of your face?
So when you look at me,
all you see is everything you aren't.
And would never want to be.
You don't see strength...
just cowardice and, let's face it, a big fag!
So if you'll excuse me,
I have a field of daisies
to go frolic through!
What did I tell you about using
that word in this house!
Hey, my girlfriend needs some lipstick,
can you help her out?
Someone must have swiped it.
Perceptive beyond belief.
It's impossible.
I was extra careful.
No one even saw them, except for...
Oh...
Oh...
Before you say anything,
just remember, she's very fetching.
And I'm a teenager in high school
who's not having sex.
You showed these to Toni Durazo?!
She's Brad's girlfriend...
you idiot!
What are you,
sniffing on photo chemicals again?!
It's like a voodoo spell, I think...
Look on the positive side,
it's definitely one of my better shots.
Ow!
It'll blow over.
I don't know if you've noticed,
but this is high school.
Things don't 'blow over'.
They stay with you forever...
like low self-esteem.
May I take this opportunity
to mention that
an anonymous phone call is still
very much an option.
The cat is no longer toying,
and its teeth are
in the mouse's neck.
It's not how I fight my battles.
This isn't just going to go away....
C'mon Marquis, English Lit rates
at least a ballroom gown, Man.
So exactly how mad does your mom get
when you steal her bras, huh?
...Or her tits, for that matter.
Shut up!
You do this sort of thing often?
One time.
That's all it usually takes.
They can't handle this, you know...
The students here.
They tolerate the misfits among them,
but if you rub their faces in it...
That's too much for the hormone-engorged
teenager to deal with.
So now what?
You need to find a way for
them to handle it.
Otherwise,
I don't really see a future for you
here at Brickland.
This will excuse you
for the rest of the week.
Use the time to think.
We'll have the flyers removed.
Where's your brother?
Said he's not feeling well.
Hi.
Is, uh, Chance around?
Who are you?
He's Chance's ex-friend from next door.
He has his own band.
Chance is upstairs.
Here to revel in Brad's victory?
Kind of a tough day, huh?
Why? Were you
tarred and feathered, too?
I hadn't noticed.
Look,
I'm the first to admit
Brad crossed a line.
What he did was...
...was expose me for who I really am?
Maybe I should be thanking him.
This might surprise you, Levi,
but I'm not embarassed
about what happened.
If you say so.
It just sort of looked that way when you
were ripping that flyer off the wall.
So now everyone thinks I'm ashamed of
the fact that I dressed in drag.
Like it was some horrible secret.
When the truth is, the guy
who goes to school every day...
he's the lie.
Why do I let it be okay for people
to think less of me?
...for my friends just to decide they
no longer wanna be my friends.
Man, I take all of it..
and I try to rise above it.
But I don't think you're supposed
to do that in high school.
Nothing heroic ever came of 'rising above it.'
Hey! What do you write in that?
My brilliant and insightful thoughts.
And some poems, song lyrics...
Lyrics?
You write songs?
What?
C'mon. Suddenly you're shy?
I thought they were
brilliant and insightful.
They are.
And potentially highly embarrassing.
Hey, you know what?
Why don't we write a song.
I'll do the music, you write the lyrics.
Okay.
I thought your father banned
music from your heart.
Oh yeah, that.
Well, like you said,
I have to stand up to him someday.
So...Screw Lawrence and his scholarships.
So... Are we cool?
Chance?!
Is your brother really sick?
Okay, what's the deal?
Apparently his entire school
found out he dressed up in drag
and performed at a club.
What?!
Then they put his picture
on a bunch of flyers
labelling him an embarrassment to all that is
held holy in the high school male.
Why can't you kids have normal problems?
Like acne.
Time for school.
Well, he's not at the loser-table...
...he wasn't in Lit...
Looks like
'Operation: Get-Rid-Of-Fag' worked.
Stop calling him that.
What'd you say Sparks?
This wasn't cool.
If he wants to dress up like a girl,
that's his business.
How'd you like it if everyone knew you fooled
around with Kenny Ellis in sixth grade?
So tell me Sparks,
when exactly did you grow a pair, huh?
When I figured out
you don't really have friends.
Just subjects who live in fear of you.
You don't want to do this, Man.
Trust me,
you don't want to go there with me.
You know what, Brad?
I feel sorry for you.
Because right here, right now...
is the best it'll ever be for you.
Well, you never were too bright.
Take your best shot.
Brad!
Are you okay?
Oh my God, you're like... bleeding.
Yeah, that's what I thought would happen.
Are you looking for something?
Inspiration.
You know, Chance, there's a link
between inspiration and perspiration.
What you need is focus.
How about I send you back Stateside.
I found a military academy
in the Midwest--
Please...
Just stop.
I'm never gonna understand you the way
your mother did, I know that.
Well, I don't need you to.
Then, what do you need?
For you to stop running this house
like a military operation.
We're not a team, we're a family.
Sienna and I,
we're not your soldiers or cadets.
We're your kids.
No kid I know enjoys discipline.
I'm not gonna apologize for that.
I'm not talking about discipline.
I don't mind rules.
But you need to let me be
who I'm gonna be.
I think I do.
Except every time you look at me, all I see
is you wishing I were someone else.
Anyone else.
Nothing about me makes you proud.
How do you know that?
Because every time you look at Sienna, I see
exactly what that pride looks like.
Put this stuff away when you're done.
What?!
Have you talked to Chance?...
'cause he won't return our calls.
Yeah, we've gotta make sure he didn't kill
himself.
You're a photographer, right?
What gave it away?
Who are you?
We're scared of her.
Meet me here, after school today.
And bring that.
Can we stop following him now?
Okay, c'mon.
Hey guys!
What's this?
New band:
'Dramatic Pause.'
Chance is our lead singer.
Wow! That's neat.
We need some band photos -
for flyers and stuff.
Can you do it?
Yeah, sure I can.
We're competing at
the battle of the bands
and we require a manager.
Interested?
Manager?
You're a high-school band
doing Toto covers...
badly.
What you really need is to be
put out of your misery.
I'm in.
Cool.
Whoa...
This is a whole lot of people!
Hey! Listen, I arranged for some insurance
to make sure Dramatic Pause stands out.
You bought off the judges?!
Even better-
You... killed the judges?
Will you just shut up and listen?!
Where's Chance?
With you...
Weren't you picking him up?
So, what are we supposed to do
if Chance doesn't show?
Hi, Lawrence.
Do you know about that?
When did this happen?
It's been brewing
for the past two weeks, or so.
Levi and Chance wrote a song together.
Is it any good?
I haven't heard it yet.
Look, Levi's grounded,
and now he's gone.
And I'm willing to bet your son has
got something to do with that.
I wanna talk to him right now-
Chance isn't here.
His band goes on at five.
Can we go?
Get your coat.
But wait, I have to get changed first.
You know what someone should really invent?
Portable phones.
C'mon, let's go and see
if we can find him.
You go over there and you
check back there, okay?
Chance!
You guys, go look up there.
Chance?!
Maybe it's better if we split up.
Chance!
Where were you?
We were starting to think you bailed.
Oh look,
it's the Flock-of-Faggots.
What are you playing,
'Disco Up The Ass'?
Have you seen Levi anywhere?
I don't see either of them.
Is that Chance over there?
Look at them, they're spectacular!
What are you doing up here?
Nice introduction, your idea?
I can't go on...
Why?
What's wrong?
Stage fright is my best guess.
Or maybe an intestinal parasite.
Ladies...
Okay, you hormonal mess of a crowd,
are you ready for the next band?!
Please welcome my Rockettes!
What the hell is that?!
A chorus line, duh!
Aren't they fabulous?
I said, aren't they FABULOUS!
Listen to me.
If singing in a dress and high-heels
in front of two-hundred drunks
isn't going to prepare you for this,
then nothing ever will.
This is cake!
You don't understand...
pretending to be someone else is easy.
It's an act...dress-up.
I can hide behind top hats--
I thought you were done hiding.
Don't you want them
to see the real Chance?
Just go out there and sing.
Great advice.
And besides,
if they start throwing anything,
it'll be at Levi
and his lousy guitar playing.
Just stand up to all of 'em.
Now's your chance.
Stand up.
So, I want you all to put your hands
together for the next band.
It's led by a close, personal friend of mine.
And honeys, if you like good music,
you can turn on the radio after the concert.
In the meantime, here they are...
in all their Oxy-cream glory:
The Dramatic Pause!
I live in a different world
See things my own way
Got no shame for what I do
What else should I say
Who do we become
Add up all the sums
Part of me will be okay
The rest will be undone
Stand Up for all of your dreams
Leave the ones that have been
See how far we have come
Never have to succumb
Take your friends by your side
And just go for that ride
Don't worry who you are
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Some people have all the luck
Born with looks and a buck
And then there is the rest of us
The strange and messed up
You think you are one
Boy you sure are dumb
Look at us and then decide
Who is Jekyll, who is Hyde?
Stand Up for all of your dreams
Leave the ones that have been
See how far you can go
Then get ready to blow--
Mr. Harden!
I want a word with you.
Care to explain?!
Stand Up for all of your dreams
Leave the ones that have been
See how far you can go
Then get ready to blow
Take the low-times in stride
Bring the high-times inside
Don't worry who you are
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Stand Up and you'll go far
Why didn't you tell me you had a band?
I didn't think you were ready
for another singer in the family.
Well, maybe you should let me decide what
I may or may not be ready for.
But thanks for looking out for me.
I got your back.
I'm sorry, I haven't always had yours.
You were great out there today, Son.
You know,
they have bands in the Army...
Think about it.
Go.
Expelled?
As in, total expulsion?
And the best part is,
the idiot practically tumed himself in.
He started raging at a practice while
Smelt-her was watching...
so, she got suspicious.
Hey, Twyla...
Oh hey, don't forget about the gig
I booked you on Saturday night.
My cousin Claudia's wedding.
So start boning up
on your Barry Manilow.
Hey, I got concert photos for you.
Oh good!
Thank you.
Anything else?
You want to know what's inside?
Of course.
But you can't tell me.
To wit, Hank:
should I become privy, and Smelker finds out...
and finds some way to circumvent
standard administrative protocol
and torture me to the point where I have no
choice but to reveal what I know.
Torture...
Torture.
Good point.
I know you wanted to know...
but I think my well-being supersedes your
low-minded curiosity in this case.
I know what you're thinking:
another 'Chance-Fantasy-Sequence.'
Maybe...maybe not.
But, let's be clear about one thing,
this is my version of the story...
I told you, you were in for some perspective...
No doubt about it...
high school's mostly irritating
and an abomination.
But, you make the best of it...