"FAST TIMES AT RIDGEMONT HIGH" Screenplay 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 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 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 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 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 fiancé 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 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 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 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 (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 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 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 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 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 adrenaline, 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 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 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 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 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 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. Stacy tries one but chokes. LINDA 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 '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 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 (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. 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 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 You start from the second you walk into biology. Don't just walk... move across the room. He saunters over to the chair. DAMONE 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 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 Where is Jeff Spicoli? There is silence in the U.S. history classroom. MR. HAND I saw him earlier today near the 200 Building bathrooms. Is he still on campus? Silence. MR. HAND Anyone? One student sitting next to Stacy raises his hand. MR. HAND 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 (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 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 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 (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 spectacular 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 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 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 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 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 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 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. GRAINY HIGH SCHOOL FILM 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 Death. There is a swell of dramatic music. ARNAZ 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 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 (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 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 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 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 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 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 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 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 see-through 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 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 ...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 This is a cop. He's definitely cruising me at busting distance. The high beams switch on behind Spicoli. SPICOLI 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 What the fuck is this guy doing? L.C. This ain't no cop. The mystery car bumps them lightly from behind. L.C. 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. 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 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 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.