Dialogue script.
This story is set in 1988.
It was a time of Reaganism, Thatcherism, shoulder-padism, and 'the consumer led recovery.'
And all was very.
The Heathers are not just a high school clique. They are the clique - the most powerful clique in all of Sherwood. That is: Sherwood, Ohio, USA, Earth. Their castle in the clouds is known as Westerburg High. And over it they rule, with a rod of lip gloss...
At the start of our humble tale, the Heathers repose at the house of Sawyer - Veronica Sawyer.
Here, for character name abbreviations.
H.M. - (misses shot) 'Damn! It's your turn, Heather.'
H.C. - 'No Heather, it's Heather's turn... Heather...'
H.D. - (engrossed in "Moby Dick") 'Sorry Heather'
Heather Duke puts down the book and takes her shot.. and misses.
Heather Chandler's turn... Heather Chandler - Heather Number One, the Heather who never misses - kisses her lucky red ball and takes the shot...
V.S. - 'Oww!'
...Veronica Sawyer is buried up to her neck in the lawn. She shouldn't mind though - having the odd croquet ball bounce off her head - after all, she is a 'Heather.' She's an honorary Heather. Probably this is due to her vast I.Q., with which she impresses others - by not using it... In fact there seems to be only one place were Veronica can be Veronica...
She's sitting on the stairs at school. It's unthinkable for a true Heather to hazard her designer uniform by sitting on stairs, but when Veronica has the need to diarize, all else doeth fade...
Dear Diary, Heather told me she teaches people life... She said "Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly." I said, "So, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?" She said "Yes." I said, "...You're beautiful!"
A pair of Heathers arrive, interrupting her thoughts...
H.M. - (shoves Veronica with knee) 'God! Come on, Veronica!'
V.S. - 'What is your damage, Heather?'
H.M. - 'Don't blame me, blame Heather. She told me to haul your ass into the caf, pronto. Back me up, Heather.'
H.D. - 'Yeah, she really wants to talk to you...'
V.S. - (getting up) 'Okay, I'm going... Jesus Christ.'
V.S. - 'Hello Heather.'
H.C. - 'Veronica, finally... I've got a note of Kurt Kelly's. I need you to forge a hot and horny, yet realistically low-key note in Kurt's handwriting... Then we'll slip it onto Martha Dumptruck's lunch tray...'
V.S. - 'Shit Heather, I don't have anything against Martha Dunstock.'
H.C. - 'You don't have anything for her either. Come on, it'll be very. The note'll give her shower nozzle masturbation material for weeks.'
V.S. - 'I'll think about it...'
H.C. - 'Don't think.'
H.C. - (turning to the others) 'Veronica needs something to write on - Heather, bend over.'
Reluctantly, Veronica puts pen to paper. Heather Chandler dictates:
'Dear Martha, you're so sweet...'
Watching this, from across the hall, are Kurt and Ram... Kurt and Ram are nominally labeled 'jocks' or 'hunks' (depending on who you ask) or 'assholes' (depending on who you ask...) Kurt could also be an airline pilot, but prefers football and girls. And Ram could be a moron, but prefers football and girls. Right now, they're consuming burger and milk and drooling at the sight of the Heathers doing... whatever it is they're doing...
K.K. - 'I'm telling you man, it would be so righteous to be in a Veronica Sawyer-Heather Chandler sandwich...'
R.S. - 'Oh, hell yes... I wanna get a Heather and put her on my johnson, and just start spinnin' her around like a goddamn pinwheel...!'
Both laugh.
R.S. - 'Punch it in!'
They punch fists.
Meanwhile - The note is done. Heather (McNamara) slips it on Martha's tray whilst she's looking the other way...
Now, all they have to do is wait...
The Heathers sit down to eat. They observe the various banalities of the caf.
At a display table, across the way, Westerburg High's budding senator, Peter Dawson, is pushing the hot issue of the day...
P.D. - 'Westerburg feeds the world! Come on people, let's give that left-over lunch money to people who don't have lunches... Those tater-tots you throw away...'
H.M. - 'God, aren't they fed yet?'
P.D. - (in background) 'Come on, let's go...'
H.M. - 'Do they even have Thanks-giving in Africa?'
V.S. - 'Oh sure... pilgrims, Indians, tater-tots - it's a real party continent.'
H.C. - 'Sawyer, guess what today is'
V.S. - (thinks) 'Ouch... Lunchtime Poll? So what's the question?'
H.D. - 'Yeah, so what's the question, Heather?'
H.C. - (stares at H.D.) 'God damn, Heather... You were with me in study hall when I thought of it...'
H.D. - (embarrassed) 'I forgot.'
H.C. - (shakes her head, amused) 'You're such a pillowcase..'.
V.S. - 'This wouldn't be that bizarro thing you were babbling about over the phone last night, would it?'
H.C. - 'Of course it is.'
Poll bent, Heather One and Veronica leave the table..
H.C. - 'I told Dennis if he gives me another political topic, I'd spew burrito chunks.'
Half listening, Veronica catches sight of someone - one face, across the candy wrappers and lunch trays... He's seen her too... And Veronica, busy seeing him back again, walks straight into Betty Finn, nearly knocking her off her chair. Once upon a time, Betty and Veronica were inseparable - before Veronica became a Heather.
B.F. - 'Oh Veronica, I'm sorry.'
V.S. - 'Betty Finn, gosh... Hey, I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to your birthday party last month.'
B.F. - 'It's okay... Your mom said you had a big date.. Think I'd probably miss my own birthday for a date...'
V.S. - 'Don't say that.'
B.F. - 'I was looking around the other day and I dug up.. these old photographs.'
V.S. - 'Ohh, they're great(!) '
H.C. - (jerking Veronica's arm) 'Come on, Veronica.'
Some of the photos land on the floor, and we see two little girls who seem very similar. Betty picks them up as Veronica is hauled away.
V.S. - (to H.C., irritated) 'I was talking to somebody...'
Another table - at which are seated the very-rich-but-not-quite-cool-enough of Westerburg High. They all know and agree that the Heathers are the coolest, hipest, most news-flash bitches in the entire State of Ohio. And that Heather Chandler is the state of the bitching art - the most mimicked/loathed creature in known school history. Today she's wearing a kind of plaid power jacket, with shoulder pads so massive that if ever the US Navy needed a spare aircraft carrier...
C.C. - (groaning) 'Great, it's Heather.'
C.K. - (put off his food) 'Oh, shit!'
H.C. - (sarcastic) 'Hi, Courtney... Love your cardigan.'
C.C. - 'Thanks. I just got it last night at "The Limited." Like, totally blew my allowance...'
H.C. - (reading from clip board) 'Check this out. You win five million dollars from the Publisher's Sweepstakes, and the same day that that big Ed guy gives you the cheque, aliens land on the earth and say they're going to blow up the world in two days. What do you do?'
C.K. - 'That's easy. I'd just slide that wad over to my father, cos he is like one of the top brokers in the State.'
Veronica eye groans...
C.C. - (sincerity-lite) 'If I got that money, I'd give it all to the homeless. Every cent...'
V.S. - (naked sarcasm) 'You're beautiful.'
The pollsters move on. Heather is pissed, re Veronica's loose cannon sarcasm.
H.C. - 'If you're going to openly be a bitch...'
V.S. - 'It's just, Heather, why can't we talk to different kinds of people?'
H.C. - (exasperated) 'Fuck me gently with a chainsaw... Do I look like Mother Theresa? If I did, I probably wouldn't mind talking to the geek squad...'
She gestures to a table at which are seated Westerburg's social rejecta (and future I.T. over-lords).
G.K. - (spilling quarter pint of milk from mouth) 'Did you see that?? Heather Number One just looked right at me!'
His fellow geeks help mop up, glancing nervously in the direction of Heather Number One.
V.S. - (turning to Heather) 'Does it not bother you that everybody in this school thinks that you're a piranha?'
H.C. - 'Like I give a shit. They all want me as a friend or a fuck. I'm worshiped at Westerburg, and I'm only a junior...'
(Short cut to Martha - she's reading 'the note' - looking puzzled...)
Meanwhile...Veronica, poll focused, leads Heather toward the afore-sneered geek table...
H.C. - 'I can't believe this. We're going to a party at Remington University tonight, and we're brushing up on our conversational skills with the scum of the school.'
V.S. - (to geek) 'Hi'
Geeks in chorus - 'Hi'
H.C. - (bitch boost at 72%) 'So, this is what's called a lunchtime poll...'
Short cuts, where we see Heather asking the Poll question to various people -
(At P.D.'s 'Feed the World' table) 'You win five million dollars in the Publisher's Sweepstakes..'
(To Kurt and Ram) '...and the same day that what's-his-face gives you the cheque..'
(In parking lot, to some metal heads) '..aliens land on earth...'
(Back in the caf) '...and say they're gonna blow up the world in two days.'
(In a corridor) 'What are you gonna do with the money?'
And the answers... (multiple cuts)
G.K. - 'I'd go to Egypt... With a girl...'
B.F. - 'I'd use the money for an end-of-the-world get-together!'
R.S. - 'I'd pay Madonna a million bucks to sit on my face and have her ride like the Kentucky derby...'
M.1. - 'That's gotta be the most spooky-assed question I ever heard..'
P.D. - 'Alright, this is important... Tax is only the beginning..'
R.S. - (thinks) '...she should pay me though.'
M.2. - 'You go to the zoo and get a lion... Then you put a remote-control bomb up its butt...'
P.D. - '..social security, legal fees..'
M.2. - '..you push the button on the bomb, and you and the lion die like one.'
F.S. - (utterly stoned) 'W,haaat?'
So, that's the Lunchtime Poll...
Meanwhile...Martha has been reading the note - glancing at Kurt, reading some more, glancing... And now she knows it's all true; it's there in black and white - the hunkiest guy in the entire universe - well, Sherwood, Ohio - thinks that she's "sweet"... So, she goes over...
H.M. - (seeing Martha on the move) 'Oh my God, here we go.'
The Heathers (and Veronica) watch - Kurt looks up at Martha, reads the note, looks at Martha again, and then nearly falls off his chair... Ram laughs too. Martha flees... A veteran woundee - Martha doesn't need second hints; she's out the door as fast as her not-at-this-store size will permit...
Veronica, mid guilt attack, retreats to Peter's 'Feed the World' table.
P.D. - (surprised and flattered) 'Hi, Veronica... "Five keeps the neighborhood alive..." '
Heather Chandler comes over, pulls Veronica aside.
H.C. - 'You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school... If I wasn't already the head of it, I'd want the same thing...'
Veronica makes a face.
H.C. - 'Come on Veronica, you used to have a sense of humor.'
H.D. - (from the w.c.) 'Veronica, can you come back here a minute?'
V.S. - (flexing her index finger) 'A true friend's work is never done...'
H.C. & H.M. - 'Gross...'
H.C. - 'Grow up, Heather. Bulimia is so '87.'
In the cubicle..
V.S. - (filing nail) 'You know, maybe you should see a doctor.'
H.D. - 'Yeah, maybe.'
H.C. - (from outside) 'Come on Heather, let's take another look at today's lunch...'
They return to the lunch hall. Veronica spots that boy again... (Mmmm...)
H.M. - 'God, Veronica, drool much? His name's Jason Dean. He's in my American History..'
Veronica goes straight over - bold as a Heather.
V.S. - 'Hello, Jason Dean.'
J.D. - 'Greetings and salutations... Are you a Heather?'
V.S. - 'No, I'm a Veronica... Sawyer... (she remembers the clip board clutched at her chest) '...This may seem like a really stupid question...'
J.D. - 'There are no stupid questions.'
V.S. - 'You inherit five million dollars the same day aliens land on the earth and say they're gonna blow it up in two days.. What d'you do?'
J.D. - (thinks, briefly) 'That's the stupidest question I've ever heard.'
Watching, from the Kurt/Ram table...
R.S. - 'Who does that guy in the coat think he is anyways, Bo Diddley?'
K.K. - 'Veronica's into his act, no doubt.'
Kurt sort of fancies Veronica. He may not really know what 'a crush' is - outside of a scrum - but he does feel 'something' 'funny' when ever he sees her... Right now though, it's just jealousy...
J.D. - 'Ahh, I don't know. I'd probably row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring along a bottle of Tequila, my sax... some Bac..'
V.S. - 'How very.'
H.C. - (approaches, irritated) 'Come on, Veronica.'
V.S. - (to J.D., light as air) 'Later.'
J.D. - 'Definitely.'
Watching, from the Kurt/Ram table...
R.S. - 'Let's kick his ass!'
K.K. - 'Shit Ram - we're seniors man. We're too old for that kinda crap...' (considers) '...Let's give him a good scare, though.'
They strut over.
R.S. - (stabs fingers in J.D.'s pie) 'You gonna eat this?'
K.K. - 'What did your boyfriend say, when you told him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?'
R.S. - 'Answer him, dick.'
J.D. doesn't answer. He appears quite calm - though certainly he likes pie.
K.K. - 'Hey Ram, doesn't this cafeteria have a "no fags allowed" rule?'
Ram, thinks - trying hard to remember that particular rule..
J.D. - 'They seem to have an open-door policy for assholes though, don't they?'
K.K. - 'What did you say, dick-head??'
J.D. - (standing up, reaching into jacket) 'I'll repeat myself...'
J.D. pulls out a gun - a hand cannon - big enough to take out an aircraft-carrier...
Without further ado, he fires at Kurt and Ram.
BAM ! BAM !
H.M. - 'They won't expel him. They'll just suspend him for a week or something.'
H.C. - 'He used a real gun. They should throw his ass in jail...'
V.S. - 'No way, he used blanks. All J.D. really did was ruin two pairs of pants... Maybe not even that... Can you bleach out urine stains?'
H.C. - 'You seem pretty amused. I thought you'd given up on high school guys.'
V.S. - ' "Never Say Never..." '
Heather Chandler shoots. Her ball nudges that of heather Duke, thus giving Heather One an advantage...
H.D. - 'So what are you going to do, Heather, take the two shots or send me out?'
H.C. - (irritated) 'Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast? First, you ask if you can be red, knowing that I'm always red... '
She goes over to Heather Duke's ball and slams it out - way, way out...
H.D. - 'Shit.'
H.C. - (bitchy) 'It's your turn, Heather. Easy shot, Heather...'
H.M. - 'No way, no day.'
V.S. - 'Give it up, girl.'
Heather has a go anyway... She fumbles the shot; the ball bounces off a statue, then a tree, and then goes through the hoop after all...
V.S. - 'Holy shit!'
H.M. - 'God, that was incredible!'
H.D. - (incredulous) 'Wooo!'
Change of subject...
H.M. - 'So, tonight's the night. Are you two excited?
H.C. - 'I'm giving Veronica her shot, her first Remington party.' (turns to V.S.) 'You blow it tonight girl, and it's "keggers with kids" all next year.'
That said, Heather Chandler again shoots her ball so that it nudges Heather Duke's...
H.D. - 'Why?'
H.C. - 'Why not..?'
Veronica's suburbian mom comes out with a tray of finger food.(The Sawyer's eat pate. Sometimes Mrs. Sawyer will buy normal food - but only if it's pate-able.)
Mom - 'Heather, your mother's here.'
H.M. - 'Come on, whoever wants a ride.'
The Heathers, of name, depart and the Veronica heads for the house. Mom and dad sit down at the patio table..
Dad - 'Hey, take a break Veronica. Sit down... '
She sits, picks up a food finger.
Dad - 'So, what was the first week of spring vacation withdrawal like?'
V.S. - 'Oh, I don't know... It was okay I guess.'
Mom - 'Hey kid, isn't the prom coming up?'
V.S. - 'I guess...'
Mom - 'Any contestants worth mentioning?'
V.S. - 'Maybe..' (remembering J.D.) '...There's kind of a dark horse in the running.'
Dad - (looking at the cover of a book that he's been enjoying) 'God damn, will somebody tell me why I read these spy novels?'
V.S. - (smiling, cheeky) 'Cuz you're an idiot.'
Dad - 'Oh yeah, that's it...'
Mom - 'You two...'
V.S. - (remembering the Remington thing) 'Great pate, but I gotta motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight.'
H.C. - (Calling from the car as Veronica goes in for supplies) 'Corn Nuts!'
V.S. - 'B.Q. or plain?'
H.C. - (surprised, irritated) ' B.Q!'
Inside, Veronica finds the corn nuts. J.D. walks up behind.
J.D. - 'Are you gonna pull a super-chug with that?'
V.S. - 'No, but if you're nice, I'll let you buy me a slushie... I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well.'
J.D. - 'Yeah, well.. I've been moved around all my life... Dallas, Baton Rouge, Vegas... Sherwood Ohio. There's always been a "Snappy Snack Shack." Any town, any time: pop a ham-and-cheese in the microwave, and feast on a turbo dog. Keeps me sane.'
V.S. - 'Really... That thing you pulled in the caf today was pretty severe.'
J.D. - 'Yeah well, the extreme always seems to make an impression. Did you say a cherry or coke slushie?'
V.S. - 'I didn't... Cherry.'
They go outside.
V.S. - 'Great bike!'
J.D. - 'Yeah, just a humble perk from my dad's construction company. You've seen the commercial, right? "Bringing every State to a higher state".'
V.S. - 'Wait a minute... Jason Dean... Your dad's "Big Bud Dean Construction?" Must be rough moving place to place..'
J.D. - 'Well everybody's life's got static... Is your life perfect?'
V.S. - 'Oh yeah, I'm on my way to a party at Remington University...'
Heather Chandler is waiting in the car. Impatient, she bibs the horn.
V.S. - 'No, my life's not perfect... I don't really like my friends.'
J.D. - (smiles) 'I don't really like your friends either.'
V.S. - 'Well, it's just like, they're people I work with and our job is being popular and shit.'
J.D. - 'Maybe it's time to take a vacation.'
Veronica and Heather arrive at the party - looking deadly, just like a Heather should.. Their hosts are a couple of ready-to-lay frat boys, likely to sell out long before grad day.
D.A. - (delighted) 'Ladies, throw your coats on the floor... Ah, Veronica, this is Brad.'
B.R. - (looking her over) 'Excellent!'
D.A. - 'Did you girls bring your partying slippers, huh?'
H.C. - 'Let's party.'
D.A. - (to B.R.) 'She loves to party.'
Dear Diary, I want to kill, and you have to believe it's for more than just selfish reasons, more than just a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me...
Brad is having trouble with the foreplay stage..
B.R. - 'Hey it's so great to be able to talk to a girl and not have to ask "What's your major?" I hate that...' (forced laughter.)
Veronica flashes a smile so brief it's an allegation.. She drinks punch from a smeary glass, looks at the ceiling, looks in her glass again... And it occurs to her that if ever aliens did land on the Earth, they probably would blow it up - just to be on the safe side...
B.R. - (struggling) 'So... when you go to college, what subjects do you think you'll study?'
Veronica looks at him, then elsewhere, anywhere. Take me. Take me now...
[Note - The music score helps provide continuity/structure during the following location/time cuts.]
H.C. - 'Come on, David. Shouldn't we get back to the party?'
D.A. - 'We will. It's just that you're so hot tonight... I can't control myself.'
Heather Chandler - Heather Number One - takes her cue. As she goes down we see a poster that was popular at the time - someone sitting in front of stereo speakers, hair blowing back...We hear a zipper...
Oh Christ! I can't explain it, but I'm allowed an understanding that my parents and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore... I understand that I must stop Heather!
Veronica is sort of hiding. She's in the room where the coats have been dumped. She stares into a match flame, as she lowers her hand to it. It hurts. She drops the match in the glass, and the alcohol ignites. Surprised, she throws the blue flame out the window into the night. It arcs down into the alley below, and, quite conveniently, lands in a trash can.
Meanwhile, Heather Chandler is in a bathroom, alone, rinsing her mouth. She sees herself in the mirror. She spits out at it...
Brad finds Veronica.
B.R. - 'How's my little cheerleader, huh?'
She moves to the far end of the sofa.
B.R. - (sitting down, too close) 'Oh, I know everyone at your high school isn't so uptight. Come on...'
He starts to caress her thigh...
V.S. - 'Come on.. now look, I don't feel so good, okay???'
B.R. - 'Hey, let's do on the coats. It'll be excellent, huh?'
Veronica springs up. Brad - fully confident - reclines.. He admires Veronica's form with the practiced eye of a horse trader...
V.S. - 'You know, I have a little prepared speech for when my suitor wants more than I'm prepared to give him: Gee, Blank, I had a really nice...'
B.R. - 'Save the speeches for Malcolm X... I just wanna get laaaid..'
V.S. - (disgusted) 'You don't deserve my fucking speech!'
Betty Finn was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch-dogs and Diet Coke-heads. Killing Heather would be like offing the Wicked Witch of the West.. wait.. East.. West.. God, I sound like a fucking psycho!
Veronica leans against a wall, feeling ill, angry and cheap.
H.C. - 'What's your damage? Brad says you're being a real kuse.'
V.S. - 'Heather, I feel really sick, like I'm gonna throw up, so can we please jam now?'
H.C. - 'No! Hell no!'
Veronica is horrified, but the only response she can manage at that moment is to bend over and vomit...
Tomorrow, I'll be kissing her aerobicised ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Heather - a world where I am free.
We can assume that Veronica has told Heather a few things, even whilst wiping the puke from her chin. She leaves, via a side door into an alley. Braced by the clear night air, she passes by that burning trash can. Heather Chandler comes out after her... Veronica stops, turns. Now, Heather has something to say..
H.C. - 'You - stupid - fuck!'
V.S. - 'You god-damn bitch!!'
H.C. - 'You were nothing before you met me. You were playing Barbies with Betty Finn. You were a bluebird. You were a Brownie. You were a Girl-Scout cookie. I got you into a Remington party! What's my thanks? It's on the hallway carpet! I got paid in puke!'
V.S. - 'Lick it up baby! - Lick It Up !'
If looks could kill, Heather Chandler would be dead.
H.C. - 'Monday morning, you're history... I'll tell everyone about tonight. Transfer to Washington. Transfer to Jefferson. No-one at Westerburg's gonna let you play their reindeer games.'
Veronica is a little stunned. It's too soon for her; it's too soon after Barbies with Betty to be dealing with shit like this...
She stops writing and flings her diary across the room. It strikes the window frame, just as someone sticks his face in. Veronica double-takes.
J.D. - 'Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.'
V.S. - 'It's okay.' (amazed, amused)
J.D. - 'I saw the croquet set up in the back... You up for a match?'
After a game of croquet...
J.D. - 'Mmm.. Thank you, that was my first game of strip croquet.'
V.S. - 'Well, you're welcome... It's a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and boning away on a neighbor's swing set...'
J.D. - 'Mmm... there's a lot to be said for throwing off your-Oww!' (Veronica bites his shoulder.)
V.S. - (thoughtful) 'What a night.. What a life... They wanted to move me into high school out of the sixth grade because I was supposed to be this big genius... then we decided to chuck the idea, because I'd have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah.. Now blah, blah, blah is all I do. I use my grand I.Q. to decide what color gloss to wear and how to hit three keggers before curfew...'
J.D. interrupts her with a kiss. His mind runs on though.
J.D. - 'Mmmm.. Heather Chandler is one bitch that deserves to die.'
V.S. - 'Oh... killing her won't solve anything. I say we just grow up, be adults and die. But before that, I'd like to see Heather Chandler puke her guts out.'
They kiss...
Veronica and J.D. enter the kitchen of Heather Chandler's house.
V.S. - 'Trust me, she skips the Saturday morning trip to Grandma's even when she's not hungover.'
J.D. - 'We'll just concoct ourselves a little hangover cure that'll induce her to spew red, white and blue, then..'
V.S. - 'What about, like, milk and orange juice? What's the up-chuck factor on that?'
J.D. - (holding up a bottle of drainer) 'I'm a no-rust-build-up man, myself.'
V.S. - 'Don't be a dick. That stuff'll kill her.'
J.D. - 'Mmm.'
V.S. - 'I know, we can cook up some soup, and put it in a coke. It's, it's pretty sick, eh? Now, should it be "chicken-noodle" or "bean with bacon"?'
J.D. pours a thick, blue liquid into a glass. (The fumes alone could kill) He looks over at Veronica's own project...
J.D. - 'Will ya put a lid on that stuff? I say we go with big blue here.' (holds up the glass)
V.S. - 'What are you talking about? She would never drink anything that looked like that, anyway.'
J.D. - 'Mmm... So, we'll put it in this...' (He picks out a morning cup and its lid) '...She won't be able to see what she's drinking...'
V.S. - (comes over to the same cupboard, mumbling) 'Just let me get a cup, jerk.'
Veronica takes down another cup - very similar to J.D.'s - and pours out her concoction. J.D. puts the lid on his.
V.S. - 'Okay, milk and orange juice. Mmm...'
Although it does look gross, it occurs to her that its puke factor may not be high enough. After all, if the Remington punch didn't make Heather sick...
V.S. - '...maybe we could cough up a phlegm globber or something.'
J.D. - 'Mmm...'
They try to gather up, but can't. (You need at least five years of smoking experience to bulk phlegmize on demand...)
V.S. - 'Oh well, milk and orange juice will do quite nicely.'
J.D. - 'You chicken!' (referring to his own cup)
V.S. - 'You're not funny.'
J.D. - (approaching, for a kiss) 'I'm sorry.'
They kiss, and, while disengaging and distracted, Veronica picks up the 'wrong' cup.
J.D. notices, as Veronica proceeds up the stairs.
J.D. - ' Ahh.. Veronica..'
V.S. - 'What?'
J.D. - 'Ah.. never mind. I'll.. uh... I'll carry the cup.'
V.S. - 'Morning Heather.'
H.C. - (awakens, like a princess) 'Veronica... and Jesse James. Quelle surprise.. Did you hear about Veronica's affection for regurgitation?'
V.S. - 'Heather, I think last night we both said a lot of things we didn't mean.'
H.C. - 'Did we? How the hell did you get in here?'
J.D. - 'Uh... Veronica knew you'd have a hangover, so I whipped this up for ya. It's a family recipe.' (He offers up the mug.)
H.C. - 'What did you do, put a phlegm globber in it or something? I'm not gonna drink that piss'
J.D. - (lowering the mug, addressing Veronica) 'I knew this stuff'd be too intense for her.'
H.C. - (her bitch drive warming up) ' "Intense..." Grow up. You think I'll drink it just because you call me chicken?'
J.D. sort of smiles and sort of shrugs. Heather gets up and approaches him.
H.C. - 'Just give me the cup, jerk.'
She gives him a sour look, and then downs the contents... Immediately, she's choking and gasping - convulsing, as she staggers toward a glass coffee table, where, gasping her last, Heather utters her last earthly words:
'Corn nuts!'
And with that she falls forward - slamming through the glass in a myriad of glinting splinters...
Veronica and J.D. gape at the crash site.
V.S. - 'Oh my God! I can't believe it.. I just killed my best friend.'
J.D. - 'And your worst enemy.'
V.S. - 'Same difference...'
Veronica sits down at Heather's regal dressing table. She's dizzy.
V.S. - '...Ohhh..'
J.D. - 'What're we gonna tell the cops? "Fuck it if she can't take a joke, Sarg?" '
V.S. - '..the cops... I can't believe this is my life... Oh my God. I'm gonna have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford.'
J.D. - (trying to gather his thoughts) 'Ah... right.. I'm just a little freaked here...' (thinks) '...Well at least you got what y'wanted... y'know?'
V.S. - 'Got what I wanted? It is one thing to want somebody out of your life, it is another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.'
They further absorb the horror..
J.D. - 'All right... Now, we did a murder, and that's a crime... But, if this were like a suicide thing...'
V.S. - 'Like a suicide thing?'
J.D. - 'Yeah. I mean, you can do Heather's handwriting as well as your own, right? Right?'
Veronica gets the idea.. She takes paper from a drawer and starts to write, reading as she goes:
V.S. - 'You might think what I've done is shocking...'
J.D. - (joining in) '...to me, though, suicide is the logical answer to the myriad of problems life has given me.'
V.S. - 'That's good, but Heather would never use the word "myriad".'
J.D. - 'This is the last thing she'll ever write - she'll want to cash in on as many fifty cent words as possible.'
V.S. - 'Yeah, but she missed "myriad" on the vocab test two weeks ago.'
J.D. - 'It only proves my point more. The word is a badge for her failures at school.'
V.S. - 'Oh... Okay.. you're probably right, um..'
She continues writing, reading as she goes:
V.S. - '...people think that just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun. No one understood, I had feelings too...'
J.D. - '...I die knowing no one knew the real me...'
V.S. - 'It's good... Have you done this before?'
P.G. - 'Any other principal would take the same position - keep things business as usual...'
P.H. - 'Heather Chandler is not your every-day suicide. She was very popular.'
P.G. - 'Come on, Paul. If I let these kids out before lunch, the switchboard'd light up like a Christmas tree.'
T.C. - 'I must say, I was impressed to see that she made proper use of the word "myriad" in her suicide note.'
P.F. - (the school hippy/bleeding heart) 'I find it profoundly disturbing that we're told of the tragic destruction of youth, and all we can think to talk about is adequate mourning times and misused vocabulary words??'
P.G. - 'Christ...'
P.F. - 'We must revel in this revealing moment... Look, I suggest that we get everybody together, both students and teachers, in the cafeteria and just talk, and... feel... together...'
P.G. - 'Thank you, Miss Fleming, you call me when the shuttle lands...' (turns to Paul) '...Now, is this Heather the cheerleader?'
P.H. - 'That would be Heather McNamara.'
P.G. - 'Oh damn! I'd be willing to go half a day for a cheerleader...'
Veronica and the surviving Heathers are getting dressed. Veronica is already done.
H.M. - 'God, it's so unfair. We should get off a whole week, not just an hour.'
H.D. - (stuffing her face with chicken) 'Write the school board.'
V.S. - 'Watch it Heather, you might be digesting food there.'
H.M. - 'Yeah, where's your "urge to purge"?'
H.D. - 'Fuck it.' (She tosses a semi used drum stick over her shoulder, then picks up a new one.)
H.M. - (Sad, looking in a locker) 'Look.. Heather left behind one of her Swatches... She'd want you to have it, Veronica. She always said you couldn't accessorize for shit.'
Heather tosses the fashion watch to Veronica.
T.R. - (approaching V.S.) 'Sorry to hear about your friend. Thought she was your usual air-head bitch... Guess I was wrong. We all were...'
Everyone becomes thoughtful..
H.M. - 'What a waste.'
H.D. - 'Oh, the humanity.'
Wearing Heather's watch, Veronica goes over to the shower area and disappears inside.
H.M. - 'Veronica, what are you doing?'
Struck again by what she's done, Veronica turns on the water and stands under the torrent. Being water resistant, the Swatch continues to tick.
P.F. - (hippy drive overheating) 'I'm just so thrilled to finally have an example of the profound sensitivity of which the human animal is capable... That example is Heather Chandler. I have her note.'
She holds it up to sounds of general awe.
P.F. - 'Now, I'm going to pass this note around the class, so you can all feel its pathetic beauty for yourselves. And while we do this, I think it's a good opportunity to share the.. feelings.. that this suicide has spurred in all of us... Now, who would like to begin?'
T.R. - 'I heard it was really gnarly. She sucked down a bottle of multi-purpose deodorizing disinfectant, and then smash!'
P.F. - 'Uh, now, Tracy, let's not rehash the coroner's report..? Let's talk emotions.'
P.D. - 'Um, Heather and I used to go out, but she said I was boring... but now I realize I really wasn't boring at all, it's just that she was dissatisfied with her life.'
P.F. - 'That's... very good, Peter.'
Suddenly, Veronica finds the situation hilarious, but she manages to turn a spontaneous outburst of mirth into a convincing outpouring of grief...
Someone asks 'Are we going to be tested on this?'
The Deans - father and son - rarely move fully into any house. It's just easier that way - when it comes time to move again... And so, weeks after their arrival in Sherwood, Ohio, the house remains as on moving day - awaiting the next...
Naturally, the T.V. was unpacked; on it is a news story about the Chandler suicide. With the house to themselves, J.D. and Veronica watch..
H.D. - (on t.v.) 'You know, we were the same size, so sometimes we could borrow each other's clothes, and mix it up. It was fun.'
P.D. - (on t.v.) 'I remember, I won her a rhino at the 4H Club, for...'
V.S. - ( at t.v.) 'Oh you're an asshole... Mute him.'
J.D. changes channel, but only gets another news story about the Chandler suicide.
H.D. - (on t.v. again) 'You know, we liked the same kind of clothes..'
V.S. - 'Heather, how many networks did you run to??'
H.D. - (again) '..We liked a lot of the same things..'
C.C. - (on t.v.) 'It's not going to be the same here without her...'
V.S. - 'What are you talking about? You hated her, she hated you.'
C.C. - (on t.v.) '...every English class, I looked forward to seeing her...'
J.D. switches off the T.V.
J.D. - 'Heather Chandler's more popular than ever.'
V.S. - 'Scary stuff.'
J.D.'s dad comes in. He's wearing sport gear on his well used, but still steely frame. The Dean's have a little joke between them - an 'inverted roles' routine. It's a bit thin, but they're keeping it up...
J.D. - 'Hey, son, I didn't hear you come in.'
B.D. - 'Hey, dad, how was work today?'
Dad climbs on the high tech tread-mill - one of the few other items unpacked. Then he answers himself..
B.D. - 'It was miserable. Some damn tribe of withered old bitches doesn't want us to terminate that fleabag hotel... All because Glenn Miller and his band once took a shit there... Just like Kansas. Remember fucking Kansas?'
J.D. - 'Yeah, that was the one with the wheat, right?'
B.D. - ' "Save The Memorial Oak Tree" Society...' (remembering) '... Showed those fucks.' (hint of a smile)
J.D. glances at Veronica, as though it's a sharing moment.
J.D. - 'Thirty of those 4th of July fireworks attached to the trunk... Arraigned, but acquitted.'
Veronica, uncomfortable in the undertow, tries to smile nicely.
B.D. - 'Gosh, pop, I almost forgot to introduce my girlfriend.'
J.D. - 'Veronica, this is my dad. Dad - Veronica...
Veronica smiles at 'Dad,' as best she can.
J.D. - 'Son, why don't you ask your little friend to stay for dinner?'
V.S. - (springing up) 'I can't... My mom's making my favorite meal tonight, Spaghetti.. lots of oregano..'
J.D. - 'How nice. Last time I saw my mom, she was waving from a library window, in Texas. Right dad?'
B.D. - (stops the machine) 'Right, son.'
V.S. - (flesh starting to crawl) 'Right.'
Veronica's mom and dad enjoy afternoon pate...
Dad - 'Hey, take a break Veronica. Sit down. So, what was the first day after Heather's suicide like?'
V.S. - 'I don't know. It was okay, I guess.'
She selects something to munch: pate, on a stick of toast.
Mom - 'Terrible thing... So.. will we get to meet this dark horse prom contender?'
V.S. - 'Maybe...'
Dad - (looking at the cigarette he's been enjoying) 'God damn, will somebody tell me why I smoke these damn things?'
V.S. - 'Cuz you're an idiot...'
Dad - 'Oh yeah, that's it.'
Mom - 'You two.'
V.S. - 'Great pate, but I gotta motor if I want to be ready for the funeral.'
In the dark sanctuary of the church, Sherwood's spiritual leader, Father Ripper, attempts to give perspective to the tragedy..
F.R. - 'I blame not Heather, but rather a society that tells its youth that the answers can be found in the M.T.V. video-games... We must pray, that the other teenagers of Sherwood Ohio know the name of that righteous dude who can solve their problems... It's Jesus Christ! And he's in the book!'
Like a psycho snapper, his gimlet eyes flash... Father Ripper is triumphant..
Everyone says - 'Amen.'
One by one, Heather's 'friends' kneel by her casket to pay their last respects (actors narrate their silent prayers):
H.M. - 'Oh God, this is a tragic thing, and sometimes I have a hard time dealing with it and stuff. Please send Heather to Heaven and all that..'
P.D. - 'Dear God, please make sure this never happens to me, cos I don't think I can handle suicide... Plus, early acceptance into an Ivy League school and please let it be Harvard. Amen.'
R.S. - 'Jesus, God in Heaven... (crosses himself)... why d'ya have to kill such hot snatch? Ha.. Hey, it's a joke man... (glancing around) Jeez, people are so serious... Uh, Hail Mary who aren't in Heaven, and.. bless us sinners... so we don't get caught, ha... uh, another joke man..'
H.D. - 'I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times, and I felt bad every time I did it, but I kept doing it anyway... Now I know you understood everything! Praise Jesus, Hallelujah!'
V.S. - 'Hi. I'm sorry. Technically, I did not kill Heather Chandler.. But hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my High School to be a nice place... Amen... Did that sound bitchy?'
The sermon is done, the church nearly empty. Heather McNamara cools her cheeks with some water that someone has thoughtfully left out in a sort of stone basin... Veronica comes over.
H.M. - 'Veronica, what are you doing tonight?'
V.S. - (leaning on the font) 'I don't know.. mourning... maybe watch some T.V.. Why?'
Outside:
H.M. - 'Well, Ram asked me out tonight, but he wants to double with Kurt, andKurt doesn't have a date...'
V.S. - 'Heather, I have something going with J.D...'
H.M. - 'Veronica, put Billy the Kid on hold for tonight? I'm your best friend.'
Nearby:
K.K. - 'So, we on tonight, man, or what?'
R.S. - 'I don't know. Still gotta talk to Heather, dude... Weird funeral, huh?'
Two Geeks (G.K. and G.F.) pass close by.
K.K. - 'That pugwapper just stepped on my foot.'
R.S. - 'Let's kick his ass!'
K.K. - (grabbing Ram's arm) 'Cool off... We're seniors.'
R.S. - (calling after G.K.) 'You god-damn geek!'
G.K. - 'Uh, well.. (raises finger) Sit-n-spin!'
K.K. - (amazed) 'That little prick...'
Kurt and Ram chase the two Geeks onto the church lawn. Ram gets G.K. in a vicious head lock... Kurt presides..
K.K. - 'You piece of shit fag.. You like to suck big dicks?'
G.K. - (in pain) 'Owww!'
K.K. - 'Say - I like to suck big dicks.'
G.F. (wanting to help G.K., but hoping not to be heard) 'Leave - him - alone, Ram.'
R.S. - (ignoring) 'Say it! Say it!'
G.K. - 'Okay, okay... '
Ram loosens his grip, so that G.K. can squeak more clearly...
G.K. - (drawing breath) '...You like to suck big dicks...'
Ram processes the insult.. then he slams G.K. into the ground. G.K. gasps as he's hauled back up again.
G.K. - 'Oh, oh... I like to suck big dicks. Mmmm.. Mmmmm.. I can't get enough of 'em. Are you satisfied?'
Elsewhere, Heather continues persuading Veronica...
H.M. - 'Don't worry, Ram's been so sweet lately, consoling me and stuff... It'll be really very.'
V.S. - 'Okay... Just as long as it's not one of those nights when they get shit-faced and take us to a pasture to tip cows...'
K.K. - (whispering) 'Is he sleeping, dude?'
R.S. - 'I think so, man. Come on..'
K.K. - 'Shit..'
They sneak up on the cow. Nearby, Veronica and Heather watch. Heather is embarrassed, and Veronica is aghast that she actually shares 99 % of her D.N.A. with what is a Kurt and what is a Ram...
R.S. - 'Cow-tipping's the fuckin' greatest. Punch it in!'
They punch fists, as quietly as they can.
K.K. - 'Okay on the count of three, guy.'
Both - 'One, two, three!'
The cow wakes - just as it lands in the mud, which sprays the two girls. They stagger, covered with thick, black, yuk. Kurt and Ram collapse in hysterics.
Later, whilst Ram vigorously consoles Heather, Veronica maintains a safe distance from Kurt's vigor. He, having recovered sufficient sobriety to remember 'what girls are for' staggers after her.. Pausing to gather his strength, he calls after her..
K.K. - (slurred) 'When I get that feeling, I need sexual healing.'
V.S. - 'Yeah, right, asshole.'
Kurt is about to say something else witty, but then falls over unconscious... Veronica looks up the slope, toward the road, and sees - surprise, surprise - J.D.
J.D. - 'What's this shit??'
V.S. - 'Doing a favor for Heather... Double date. I tried to tell you at the funeral, but you rode off.'
J.D. looks to the groaning in the distance..
J.D. - 'Another fucking Heather...!'
He also observes Kurt - out cold at the bottom of the slope.
J.D. - 'Sorry... I was feeling a little superior tonight... Seven schools in seven states, and the only thing different is my locker combination...'
Smiling, Veronica approaches J.D.. They kiss.
J.D. - 'Our love is God... Let's go get a slushie!'
In the room where the School Paper and Year Book are prepared:
D.E. - 'I'm not belittling the 'foodless fund,' Peter, it's just that we're talking teenage suicide here. Ask Alison - the number one song in America today is "Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It" by "Big Fun." Jesus man, Westerburg finally got one of these things, and I'm not gonna blow it!'
P.D. - 'Great. So Heather gets the front page, and I get crammed in by the Taco Bell coupons.'
Veronica walks in, looking smart and contemporary.
V.S. - 'Hi guys. Came to check up on this week's lunch time poll topic...'
She catches sight of something on the desk...
D.E. - 'Don't worry about it Veronica. Sit down... The funeral yesterday must really have been rough, eh?'
Veronica doesn't sit.
V.S. - 'Oh... yeah...' (She looks through the papers on the editing desk.)
D.E. - 'We were wondering if you had any poems... artwork that Heather did, that we can put in the "Heather Chandler Yearbook spread".'
V.S. - 'The what?'
D.E. - 'Take a look... It's a two page layout, with her suicide note right up here in the corner.... It's more tasteful than it sounds.'
V.S. - 'I don't know Dennis, this stuff leaves a bad taste in my mouth.'
C.C. - (who's been listening) 'Like last night, Veronica?'
C.C. and friend exchange 'knowing' looks.
V.S. - 'Excuse me? I don't get it.'
C.C. - 'Well you did last night... Kurt told us of your little date...'
V.S. - 'Yeah, and? I left him drunk and flailing in cow shit.'
C.C. - 'Well, I don't know... he was really detailed...'
P.D. - 'Shut up, Courtney.'
V.S. - 'No, don't shut up. I'd like to know exactly what I did.'
But they aren't telling, just giggling and exchanging 'knowing' looks..
P.D. - (pissed at C.C.) 'Come on, Veronica. I'll show you the lunch time poll topic.'
In the corridor:
V.S. - 'What-the-fuck?'
P.D. - 'Okay, now I rarely listen to neanderthals like Kurt Kelly, but he said he and Ram had a nice little sword fight in your mouth last night... know what I mean?'
V.S. - 'Eeeeew! That son-of-a-bitch!'
Veronica, in her room, on the phone:
V.S. - 'Hi, Kurt? Hi, this is Veronica Sawyer... Yeah, I didn't expect to be calling either, I guess my emotions took over... I was wondering if you wanted all those things you've been saying to really happen..? It's always been a fantasy of mine, to have two guys at once.... Oh sure, you can write to "Penthouse Forum..." '
Veronica has to throw a pillow at J.D., who's trying not to laugh too loudly.
V.S. - '...Yes, in the woods behind the school, at dawn... Don't forget Ram..'
Later. On the bed, Veronica and J.D. are loading guns...
V.S. - 'I don't get the point of me writing a suicide note when we're just going to be shooting them with blanks.'
J.D. - 'Well, we're not gonna be using blanks, this time.'
V.S. - (amazed) 'You can't be serious.'
J.D. - 'Yeahp.'
V.S. - 'Listen, my "Bonnie and Clyde" days are over.'
She moves to get off the bed. J.D. grabs her arm.
J.D. - 'Wait a second, wait a second... Do you take German?'
V.S. - 'French.'
J.D. - 'Alright... these are Ich Luge bullets... My grandfather snared a shit-load of them back in W.W.2. They're like tranquilizers, only they break the surface of the skin, enough to cause a little blood, but no real damage...'
V.S. - 'So it looks like the person has been shot and killed, and really they're just laying there, unconscious and bleeding (?) '
J.D. - 'Right. See, we shoot Kurt and Ram, make it look like they shot each other, and by the time they regain consciousness they'll be the laughing stock of the whole school... Now, the note's the punchline, how'd that turn out?'
V.S. - 'First, tell me the similarity is not incredible.'
J.D. - (peers at handwriting) 'Incredible similarity...'
Veronica grins like a loony, then reads:
Ram and I died the day we realized we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and un-understanding world. The joy we shared in each others arms was greater than any touch down, yet we were forced to live the lie of sexist, beer guzzling, jock assholes.
J.D. - 'It's perfect! Now, let's take a look at some the homosexual artifacts I dug up to plant at the scene...'
From a boutique bag, he brings out various items...
J.D. - 'An issue of "Stud Puppie"...'
V.S. - (laughs) 'Great!'
J.D. - '...A Candy dish... A Joan Crawford postcard... Let's see... Some mascara. Alright, now here's the one perfecto thing that I managed to pick up... mineral water...'
V.S. - 'Oh, come on, a lot of people drink mineral water. It's come a long way.'
J.D. - 'Yeah, but this is Ohio. I mean, if you don't have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress.'
V.S. - 'Oh, you're so smart...'
Veronica and J.D. kiss - once, again...
K.K. - 'Hi Veronica'
V.S. - 'Hi guys! Glad you could make it.'
They exchange looks.
R.S. - 'So, should I just whip it out, or..?'
V.S. - 'Well, I made a circle, on each side of the clearing. Ram, you come over here. Kurt, over there.. When you get to the circle, strip!'
R.S. - 'What about you?'
V.S. - 'I was kind of hoping you could rip my clothes off me, sport.'
R.S. - 'Oh, good idea!'
They strip down.
V.S. - 'Okay, count of three guys? One... Two...'
J.D. jumps out from behind a tree, aiming gun..
J.D. - 'Three!'
J.D. fires, hitting Ram. Veronica fires at Kurt. She misses, and he sprints for his life.
K.K. - 'Woooo!'
Veronica doesn't fire again - she's too busy laughing.
J.D. - 'You missed him completely?'
V.S. - 'Yeah, but don't worry... It was worth it, just to see the look on...'
J.D. - 'Uh, don't move, I'll, uh, get him back...'
J.D. goes after Kurt, leaving Veronica looking at Ram. His eyes stare fixedly at the sky...
After an extended chase, J.D. herds Kurt back to the clearing.
J.D. - 'Now!'
Automatically, Veronica obeys. Her aim is true, and Kurt goes down.
Meanwhile, Officer McCord and Officer Milner are relaxing in their patrol car.
O.M. - 'Hey, I heard it that time!'
Mc.C. - 'What??'
O.M. - 'Another gun shot, from the woods.'
Mc.C. - 'Shit! Let's roll!'
Back in the clearing, J.D. and Veronica are planting the 'artifacts.'
V.S. - 'Kurt doesn't look too good.'
J.D. - 'Just remember, he's left handed.'
J.D. hears someone coming. He grabs Veronica. They run. Seconds later, the cops arrive at the scene.
Mc.C. - 'Mother of shit!'
O.M. - 'Call in! Hey, I heard something out there, I'm checkin' it out.' (Rambo mode)
Mc.C. - (into radio) 'Yeah, this is officer McCord. I've got two bodies in the woods behind Westerburg High.'
Veronica and J.D. get back to his dad's car. Aware that someone is close behind, they jump in the car and pretend to be making out..
Mc.C. - (on radio) 'Do you hear me, Milner? What's going down?'
O.M. - 'Yeah, yeah... I think what I heard back there was a bunny rabbit. All I got here is two kids making out in a station-wagon... Should I pry 'em apart?'
Mc.C. - 'No, no, forget it. I've got all the answers back here...(second thoughts)...Hey, are they naked?'
Officer Milner gets back to the crime scene.
O.M. - 'So, what's the deal?'
Mc.C. - 'Suicide. Double suicide. They shot each other!'
O.M. - 'Hey, that's Kurt Kelly!'
Mc.C. - 'And the line backer, Ram Sweeney.'
O.M. - 'My God, suicide. Why?'
Mc.C. - (holds up mineral water) 'Does this answer your question?'
O.M. - (appalled) 'Oh man! They were fags??'
Mc.C. - 'Listen up: "We realized we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and un-understanding world." '
O.M. - 'Jesus H. Christ!'
Mc.C. - 'The quarter back, buggering the line backer... What a waste!'
O.M. - 'Oh, the humanity!'
In the car, at the school parking lot, Veronica wakes. She reaches into J.D.'s jacket for a cigarette. He wakes, automatically grabbing her wrist. She pulls it free, puts the cigarette in her mouth and waits for the car lighter to heat..
V.S. - 'So, we killed them, didn't we..'
J.D. - 'Of course.'
Veronica thinks about this, and her stupidity; she takes the lighter and jams it into the palm of her hand. Ignoring her cries of pain, J.D. lights his own cigarette from her burn.
V.S. - 'Ich Luge bullets! I'm such an idiot!'
J.D. - 'Look, you believed it, because you wanted to believe it. Your true feelings were to gross and icky for you to face...'
V.S. - 'I - did - not - want them dead!'
J.D. - 'You did too'
V.S. - 'I did not!'
J.D. - 'Did too!'
V.S. - 'I did not!'
They repeat this, getting louder and louder.. Soon, Veronica is singing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" with her hands clamped over her ears...
Outside, people are arriving for school. Heather and Heather pause near the car, listening to J.D. and Veronica's shouting match.
H.D. - (to H.M.) ' "Young love..." '
A girl (rushing past) 'Did you hear? School's canceled today because Kurt and Ram killed themselves in a repressed-homosexual-suicide-pact.'
H.D. - 'No way!'
Heather McNamara is double-plus-stunned.
Meanwhile, in the car, a little calmer now:
V.S. - 'God!!'
J.D. - 'Football season's over, Veronica. Kurt and Ram had nothing to offer this school but date rapes and AIDS jokes.'
V.S. - (exhausted and hurt) 'Yeah, sure... Could we make an ice run before the funeral?'
Kurt and Ram, in their caskets; they lie side by side, each wearing a suit and a football helmet, with football clasped to breast. Kurt's dad stands by his son's casket, ready to declare to the world:
K.D. - 'If there's any way you can hear me, Kurt, buddy... I don't care that you really were some... pansy... You're my own flesh and blood, and you made me proud... My son's a homosexual, and I love him! I love m' dead-gay-son!'
J.D. - (whispers to V.S.) 'How do you think he'd react to a son that had a limp wrist with a pulse?'
Dear diary, my teen-angst-bullshit has a body count. The most popular people in school are dead. Everybody is sad, but it's a weird kind of sad. Suicide gave Heather depth, Kurt a soul, Ram a brain.. I don't know what it's given me, but I've got no control over myself when I'm with J.D... Are we going to prom or to hell?
P.F. - 'Now, it seems we were in a similar position on Monday, when I thoughtfully suggested we get everybody together for an unadulterated emotional outpouring. But no. You took this as an opportunity to play yet another round of Let's Laugh At The Hippie...'
P.H. - 'Pauline, if you wan...'
P.G. - 'Shut up, Paul! Now, I've seen a lot of bullshit... Angel Dust, switchblades, sexually perverse photography exhibits involving tennis rackets... but this suicide thing... I guess that's more on Pauline's wavelength... So, we're just gonna write off today, and on Friday Pauline can hold her little "love-in", or whatever... Whatever...'
Pauline is triumphant.
Lunchtime. As a sort of dry-run for the main event, Pauline has arranged a 'spontaneous outpouring' in the caf.
P.F. - (through Bull Horn) 'Attention!'
G.K. spits out a pint of milk.
P.F. - 'May I have your attention? This school has been torn apart by tragedy. I'm here to fuse it back again, with togetherness. I want everybody to clasp hands. We need to connect this cafeteria into one mighty circuit! Look, here's a T.V. crew! Lock your paws!'
T.V. reporter - 'Ms Fleming, we're ready when you you are...'
P.F. - 'Hi'
We see Martha duck under her table.. (she hates all cameras)
Veronica is watching the circus. Heather Duke approaches.
V.S. - 'Look's like Ms Phlegm's on another one of her crusades. Usual success, of course.'
Heather isn't really listening. She spots the T.V. camera and makes a b-line for it.
T.V. reporter - 'Hi, what's your name?
H.D. - 'Hi, I'm Heather Duke.'
J.D. approaches Veronica. He puts hus arms around her, smells her hair...
J.D. - 'Is this as good for you as it is for me?'
Veronica ignores him. J.D. goes over to Martha's table. She emerges.
J.D. - 'Greetings and salutations!'
Meanwhile:
P.D. - (to P.F.) 'I need a V.H.S. copy of this by Monday, for my Princeton application.'
P.F. - 'Uhuh..'
V.S. - 'That thing this afternoon! I'm so angry! It was chaos, fucking chaos!'
J.D. - 'What are you talking about? I mean, today was great! Chaos was great! Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, darling... Face it, our way is the way. I mean, we scare people into not being assholes!'
V.S. - 'Our way is not our way!'
J.D. - 'Yeah? Tell that to the judge, alright. Tell it to Kurt Kelly... Oh, (clutching chest) God, Veronica!'
V.S. - 'I'm telling it to you! God! You can be so immature!'
Big Bud Dean arrives, grinning like a loony...
J.D. - ' "Oh, you kids are making too much damn noise!" '
B.D. - 'We beat the bitches.'
V.S. - 'Oh... beautiful. The beaver's home...'
Big Bud Dean puts a video tape on. It shows a building...
B.D. - 'The judge told 'em to slurp shit and die... I put a 'norwegian' in the boiler room...' (the tape shows the building beginning to collapse) '...Masterful! And then, when that blew, it set off a pack of 'thermals' I stuck upstairs.'
Big Dean is exultant, as watches the demolition for the twenty-third time...
B.D. - 'You know, some days it's great to be alive...'
J.D. is fascinated by the sight: a building - tidy one minute, heap of rubble the next. (Mmmm) The tape ends. Dad takes it and leaves, chuckling softly... .
V.S. - 'Do you like your father?'
J.D. - 'I've never given the matter much thought. I liked my mother...' (looks at her photo) '..They said her death was an accident, but she knew what she was doing. She walked into the building two minutes before my dad blew the place up. She waved at me, and then... Boom...'
Veronica, looks at him; a little less cross than before. The radio is on. The D.J. introduces the day's top play:
'If I get one more request for that song, I'm gonna commit suicide!'
J.D. - 'Hey, they're playing our song!'
D.J. - 'Here it is, "Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It!"'
J.D. pumps up the volume, and sort of dances a bit... Veronica watches him from the sofa. She almost smiles, as he approaches her... But then, just before he jumps on the sofa beside her, he whirls around, whips out his hand cannon and blows the radio straight to Kansas...
V.S. - 'That's it! We're breaking up!'
Veronica springs up, and points herself toward out.
J.D. - 'What?'
He spins her around, and she winds up right back on the sofa..
J.D. - 'You can't bring them back, you must know that.'
V.S. - 'I'm not trying to bring anybody back, except maybe myself'
J.D. grabs her and starts kissing her. He thinks she tastes better angry... She has to fight to get free. Quickly, she puts several feet between herself and his insanity.
V.S. - 'And to think there was a time when I actually thought you were cool! Man, if you can't deal with me now, then just stay home and shoot your T.V.. Blow up a couple of toasters or something. Just don't come to school, and don't mess with me!'
She leaves.
J.D. - 'You'll be back!'
J.D. presents Heather Duke with an old and most unflattering photograph..
H.D. - 'Me and Martha Dumptruck? Where did you get this?'
J.D. - 'Ah, I just had the nicest little chat with Ms Dumptruck. We got along famously. Kind of scary though, that everybody's got a little story to tell... Do you wanna see the canoeing shots?'
H.D. - 'What is this? Blackmail?'
He smiles, nods..
H.D. - (considers) 'I'll give you a weeks lunch money..'
J.D. - 'I don't want your money. I want your strength. Westerburg doesn't need mushy togetherness - it needs a strong leader. Heather Chandler was that leader, but...'
H.D. - 'But she couldn't handle it.'
J.D. - (nods) 'I think you can... Moby Dick is dunked... The white whale drank some bad plankton and splashed through a coffee table.. Now it's your turn to take the helm.'
H.D. - 'What about the photographs?'
J.D. - 'Oh, don't worry. I'll ask you to do me a favor. It'll be one you'll enjoy... And you'll get the negatives and everything back then. But in the meantime, strength.'
As he gets up: '..here's a little gift...'
As he leaves, he drops Heather Chandler's red hair scrunchee in front of Heather Duke...
J.D. - '...from Heather to Heather.'
Veronica notices Heather Chandler's locker, with police tape on it. She opens it, and looks through the leavings of a short life: scrunchees; color coded bracelets and earrings; a sticker - "I shop, therefore I am"; magazines; a headline about mass suicide; a strip of photos taken last summer - Veronica and Heather, together...
H.D. - (from behind, putting hands over Veronica's eyes) 'Guess who?'
V.S. - 'Heather?'
Veronica turns to see Heather Duke; she's smiling, and wearing a new kind of confidence.. Something else too... a red scrunchee, just like Heather's...
Heather watches Veronica go. Once she would have asked what's wrong? Now she sees only the open locker... nice earrings...
B.F. - (on phone) 'Hello?'
V.S. - 'Hello Betty? It's Veronica.'
Later, Veronica and Betty Finn play croquet, for the first time in a long time.
B.F. - 'I don't believe it, I'm winning!'
V.S. - 'Don't you start getting cocky on me now, girl.'
B.F. - 'I've really missed you. I know I'm not as exciting as your other friends.'
V.S. - 'That's bullshit. Shoot.'
B.F. - 'Do you know I'm still a virgin? Okay, I french-kissed Al Springler once... Total disaster!'
V.S. - (smiling) 'Shoot - the - ball... You know, Betty, your day dreams are much better than my reality, believe me...' (Betty has taken her shot) '..But now, prepare to die!'
B.F. - 'Ronnie!'
Veronica shoots and hits Betty's ball.. Then she goes to take her bonus shots.
B.F. - 'You're not going to go for just those two shots? I mean, go ahead, knock me out. It's the only way to win.'
V.S. - 'It's not my style'
B.F. - ' "Nice guys finish last..." I should know.'
To make a point, Veronica hits Betty's ball out.
The two Heathers arrive, just in time to see Veronica win.
H.D. - 'Bravo. Braav-o!'
B.F. - 'I gotta go now, okay?'
V.S. - 'Okay..'
B.F. - 'Thanks.'
V.S. - 'Bye, Betty.'
H.D. - (bitchy) 'Betty, leaving so soon?' (then turning to Veronica) 'I'm red.'
Martha sits in the Gym, on the spectator stand, among the raucous of some game or other. She's enjoying a coke slushie, while the home team wins. People are cheering, having a good time... She fumbles, and the coke goes all over her tee-shirt - a tee-shirt which reads "Big Fun." She looks at the mess and is reminded that she doesn't look good in a wet tee-shirt. It occurs to her that she doesn't look good in any tee-shirt, or any other garment. And, with regard to embarrassment, and the fact that the hall is empty, it occurs to her that it's all just as well... Then something else comes to mind...
The T.V. is on. Mr. and Mrs. Sawyer are watching the local news. Miss Fleming is on screen.
P.F. - 'The Westerburg suicides were tough on all of us. But we shared the pain of losing three very popular souls... I came into the cafeteria and asked them to hold hands...'
Dad - (to Mom) 'Isn't that the flake we met at the Open House?'
Veronica has come in. She sees Fleming in full flow.
P.F. - '...In a burst of cleansing syncronisity, T.V. cameras happened upon our path... witnessing the spontaneous outpouring of emotion...'
V.S. - '"Cleansing syncronisity"? "Outpouring of emotions" ?'
Dad - 'There's Heather!'
Mom - 'And there's Heather! Where are you, Veronica?'
P.F. - '..Before any teenager decides to kill himself, there are some facts he needs to know. After all, this is a decision that effects all of us. And there's only one chance to get it right...'
Meanwhile - Martha stands at a busy road. She has attached a note to her stained tee-shirt. She walks out into the traffic...
Veronica can't stand Fleming anymore. She turns off the T.V..
Mom - 'Turn that back on!'
V.S. - 'Can't you see? These little programs are eating up suicide with a spoon. They're making it seem like it's a cool thing to do!'
Mom - 'Are you telling me this is not a time for troubled youth? Stand up straight...'
V.S. - 'All we want is to be treated like human beings. Not experimented on like guinea pigs, or patronized like bunny rabbits..'
Dad - 'I don't patronize bunny rabbits!'
Mom - ' "Treated like human beings"? Is that what you said, little Ms. Voice-of-a-Generation? How do you think adults act with other adults? Do you think it's all a game of doubles tennis? When teenagers complain that they want to be treated like human beings, it's usually because they are being treated like human beings.'
V.S. - (dejected) 'Yeah, well I guess I picked the wrong time to be a human being...'
Mom - 'You'll live...'
There's an uncomfortable pause, and then...
Mom - 'Want some pate?'
Heather Duke comes in, walks toward Veronica.
H.D. - 'Hello everybody, the door was open. Veronica, have you heard? We were doing Chinese at the food fair when it comes over the radio that Martha Dumptruck tried to buy the farm. She belly flopped in front of a car, wearing a suicide note... '
V.S. - (shock, guilt) 'Wa... Is she dead?'
H.D. - 'No, that's the punchline! She's alive, and in stable condition... Just another case of a geek trying to imitate the popular people at school, and failing miserably...' (looks over her shoulder) 'Is that pate?'
She turns back - straight into a slap.
V.S. - 'I said I was sorry!'
H.D. - (holding ice pack to cheek) 'You were out of control! I mean, Heather and Kurt were a shock, but Martha Dumptruck? Get crucial! She dialed suicide hotlines in her diapers...'
V.S. - 'You're not funny.'
H.D. - 'Look. Martha couldn't take the heat, so she got out of the kitchen.. Just think what a better place this world would be if every nimrod followed her cue.'
V.S. - 'Just shut up... "Hot Probs" is on.'
H.D. - (it's her fav radio show) 'Oh shit, yeah..'
Veronica turns on radio...
Some caller - '...It's like Skipper is is okay, but sometimes I feel like I'm on that island and Gilligan can be so stupid sometimes...'
D.J. - 'Yeah well, dude, just remember - if it wasn't for the courage of the fearless crew, the "Minnow" would be lost, and you are too... Next!'
H.D. - 'That sounded like a good one.'
D.J. - 'You've got the dog catcher!'
H.M. - 'My name is Heather. No. It's not Heather...'
Veronica and Heather exchange amazements. Meanwhile, in Heather McNamara's room - looking for a fake name, she spots a poster...
H.M. - '..It's... Madonna... Oh jeez, no, not that...'
D.J. - 'Hey babe, I need a name.'
Heather then remembers her pet bird...
H.M. - 'My name is... Tweety.'
D.J. 'Tweety? Ohhh, tweet!'
H.M. - 'God has cursed me, I think. The last guy I had sex with, killed himself the next day... I'm failing math.. My whole life is a mess...'
'...I was supposed to be captain of the cheerleading team... '
V.S. - 'Oh, man... She knows we listen to this show...'
H.D. - (delighted) 'Holy shit! We'll crucify her!'
'.....My parents are divorced and stuff...'
On blackboard:
Poor Little Heather...
Heather stares at the words, crushed.
V.S. - (in her head/diary)
Heather told everyone about Heather... Yes, dear diary, I cut off Heather Chandler's head, and Heather Duke's head has sprung right back in its place, like some mythological creature my eighth grade boyfriend would have known about. Heather's even doing the old note trick... I've seen J.D.'s way. I've seen Ms. Pauline Fleming's way, and nothing has changed. I guess that's Heathers way. And Jesus, what about J.D.? I can't get him out of my head...
Heather McNamara gets up and leaves.
V.S. - (in head) ...Wait. Where's Heather going?
G.T. - (the teacher) 'Where's Heather going?'
H.D. - (bitchy) 'She's going to cry!'
- General laughter -
In the rest room, Heather is trying to commit suicide, with pills...
H.M. - 'Fucking child protective caps!'
Veronica has intuition, and goes to look for Heather..
G.T. - 'Where's she going?'
Veronica walks in the rest room.
V.S. - 'Heather!'
Veronica knocks the pills out of Heather's hands and mouth, then shoves her against the wall..
H.M. - 'What are you trying to do? Kill me?'
V.S. - 'What are you trying to do? Sleep?'
H.M. - (slumping down the wall) 'Suicide is a private thing...'
V.S. - 'Heather, you're throwing your life away to become a statistic in US-fucking-A Today. That's about the least private thing I can think of...'
H.M. - 'What about Heather and Kurt and Ram?'
V.S. - (sitting down next to Heather) 'If everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?'
H.M. - '...Probably.'
V.S. - 'If you were happy every day of your life, you wouldn't be a human being, you'd be a game show host...'
H.M. - (cheers up a bit) 'What d'you say we knock off early and buy some shoes, or something lame like that?'
V.S. - 'Okay...'
Heather is smiling. She's smiling because J.D. has given her an envelope containing photos and negatives... She watches them burn..
J.D. - 'So it's come to this... Heather Chandler did polls, I want you to do a petition. As a favor. As the favor. You've heard of the group "Big Fun," right?'
H.D. - 'That's right: "Teenage Suicide, Don't Do It."'
J.D. - 'Right. Some teeny-bopper rag says they wanna play a prom. Now it could be Westerburg's if we get everybody's "John Hancock"...'
H.D. - 'I'll get right on it, coach. '
She gets straight up, petition sheets in hand. But before going:
H.D. - 'A little gift for you... I won't be needing it.' (She drops something on the desk in front of J.D.)
Heather Duke leaves, and J.D. peruses her discarded main-brace: "Moby Dick."
Heather Number One - Heather Duke - goes round the whole school, realizing the extent of her popularity and power. And, at the end of a hard days lobbying, she has everyone's signature. Veronica finds her resting on a window ledge - basking in her own day...
V.S. - 'Heather?'
H.D. - (getting up) 'Veronica. Color me stoked, girl. I've gotten everybody to sign this petition. Even those who think "Big Fun" are tuneless Euro-fags. People love me! You know, you haven't signed yet..'
V.S. - 'People love you, but I know you... Jennifer Forbes said the petition she signed was to put a hot tub in the cafeteria, and Doug Hilton said...'
H.D. - 'Some people need different kinds of convincing than others... Just sign the petition okay?'
V.S. - 'Don't talk to me like that, okay?'
H.D. - 'Look, it was J.D.'s idea. He made out the signature sheet and everything, so why don't you just sign it!'
V.S. - 'No.'
H.D. - 'Jealous much?'
Veronica throws a slap, but this time Heather stops it..
V.S. - 'Heather, why can't you just be a friend? Why are you such a mega-bitch?'
H.D. - 'Because I can be... Veronica, why are you pulling my dick? Do you think... I mean, do you really think that if Betty Finn's fairy god-mother made her cool she'd still hang out with her dweebette friends? No way, Veronica.'
Heather Duke leaves, with a swagger to her step. Veronica knows that what she said might be true. And then J.D. arrives, punctuating her thoughts, right on cue.
J.D. - 'Wanna go out tonight? Catch a movie, you know, some miniature golf?'
V.S. - 'I was thinking more along the lines of slitting Heather Duke's wrists open, making it look like a suicide.'
J.D. - 'Now you're talking! I could be up for that! I've already started underlining meaningful passages in her copy of "Moby Dick," if you know what I mean...'
He puts his arms around her, holds her, as if they're lovers making up...
J.D. - 'I knew you'd be back... I knew it. I was positive, I was sure...'
Veronica elbows him.
V.S. - 'It's over J.D., over. Grow up!'
J.D. - 'I don't get it! You were wrong, and I was right! Strength, damn it!'
She's gone.
J.D. - 'Come on, come back!'
Despondent, Veronica returns home. She walks in to find mom and dad looking at her - worried..
V.S. - 'Yes?'
Mom - 'Your friend Jason Dean stopped by. He seemed very concerned about you. He said he thought you might try to kill yourself.'
Dad - 'You have been depressed lately... Oh, he left this for you..'
She reads the note, which says simply:
Recognize the handwriting?
It bears an incredible similarity her own handwriting.
V.S. - 'Oh my God.'
She heads for her room..
Mom - (calling after her) 'He said we should keep you away from sharp objects, closed garage doors, chemicals, prescription drugs...'
Entering her room, Veronica sees a Barbie, hung by the neck. It wears a "Big Fun" tee-shirt. Truly, J.D. is a performance artist. She knows she should be scared or... something. But suddenly she just can't be bothered... Overcome by the stress of the day, she climbs onto her bed, curls up like an unborn baby, and falls deeply, deeply asleep...
She wakes. J.D. is there, reading softly...
J.D. - ' "To neither love nor reverence wilt thou be kind, and even for hate, thou cans't but kill, and all are killed".'
V.S. - (bleary) 'J.D.?'
J.D. - 'I like it. It's got that what a cruel world, so let's toss ourselves in the abyss type ambience. ' (he looks at her expression of horror) 'Come on! It's Heather's copy of "Moby Dick." Why don't you give it a try... Go on, underline something...'
He puts the book in her hand.
V.S. - 'Get off of my bed, you fucking psycho! Do you think you're a rebel? Do you actually think you're a rebel? You're not a rebel... You're a fucking psychotic!'
J.D. - (shrugs, takes back the book) 'You say tomayto, I say tomarto... Hold it! "Eskimo!" This one word... I love it! I usually go for the whole sentence myself, but this is perfecto! Eskimo, you know, it's so... mysterious... Es - ki - mo.'
Veronica regards him with mounting fear. It's like one of those weird dreams that you know will become a nightmare, and yet you cannot seem to wake..
J.D. - (leading Veronica by the wrist) 'Come on!'
In the kitchen, J.D. looks for a suicide method... He finds a large knife that seems right for the job.
V.S. - 'J.D., you're not listening to me!'
J.D. - (waving knife about) 'Nag, nag, nag, nag, nag!'
V.S. - 'That knife is filthy!'
J.D. - 'What do you think I'm gonna do with it? Take out her tonsils??'
V.S. - 'Excuse me, I think I know Heather a little bit better than you do. If she was going to slit her wrists, the knife would be spotless..'
J.D. - (harshly cleaning the blade) 'Here! Alright? Can you see your fuckin' reflection in the thing??'
She can.
V.S. - 'Tomorrow someone else is just going to move into her place... That person could be me.. ' (she drifts with the thought, but not for long) '..Ha! There's only one of us who knows how to do Heather's handwriting, and if you think I'm gonna write another suicide note, you're wrong!'
J.D. - 'You don't get it, do you? Society nods its head at any horror the 'American Teenager' can think to bring upon itself... Nobody's gonna care about exact handwriting! Look!'
Forcing a pen into Veronica's hand, he draws it across paper, scrawling the words:
Life Sucks.
J.D. - 'Life Sucks! It's perfecto... I've got a meaningfully marked-up "Moby Dick", what more does a suicide need, eh? Now, if you'll excuse me...'
J.D. goes into Heather's bedroom and locks the door. Veronica rushes after him. In vain, she grapples with the handle..
V.S. - 'No! Open the door!'
In a bizarro frock, Father Ripper does Eulogy over a casket. The congregation wear white, with dark glasses..
F.R. - 'Eskimo... Heather Duke underlined a lot of things in this copy of "Moby Dick," but I believe the word "Eskimo,'' underlined all by itself, is the key to understanding Heather's pain. On the surface, Heather Duke was the vivacious young lady we all knew her to be... But her soul was in Antarctica!! Freezing with the knowledge of the way fellow teenagers can be cruel, the way that parents can be unresponsive... And, as she writes so eloquently in her suicide note, the way that life can suck!!' (pauses, to calm down) '...We'll all miss Sherwood's little eskimo. Let's just hope she's rubbing noses with Jesus!'
Veronica is leaning on the font again. Heather Chandler approaches...
H.C. - 'Is this turn out weak, or what? There were at least seventy more people at my funeral.'
V.S. - (incredulous) 'Heather...?'
H.C. - 'God, Veronica. My after-life is so boring. If I have to sing "Kumbaya" one more time...'
V.S. - 'What are you doing here?'
H.C. - 'I made your favorite... Spaghetti... Lots of oregano..'
Heather lifts the lid on something that isn't very appetizing...
H.C. - 'Dinner!
She grasps Veronica's head and drives her face toward the plate...
Veronica wakes.
Mom - (calling from downstairs) 'Veronica, Dinner!'
Dear Diary, last entry. No one can stop J.D. - not the F.B.I., the C.I.A. or the P.T.A. He once told me the extreme always makes an impression. Well, now it's my turn. Let's see how the son-of-a-bitch reacts to a suicide he didn't perform himself!
Casually, J.D. climbs a ladder to Veronica's room - just like the first time. Except that this time he's brought along a .44 Magnum... and a suicide note...He climbs in the window, to see a sight most unexpected - Veronica Sawyer, swinging from the ceiling, hung, with a sheet. He climbs in and stands, gaping at the scene. He can hardly believe it: she didn't leave a note.
J.D. - 'I can't believe you did it! I was teasing. I loved you! Sure, I was coming up here to kill you...' (he takes out the gun and drops it on the bed) '...But first I was gonna try and get y'back with my amazing petition... It's a shame you can't see what our fellow students really signed...'
He rips some paper from the cover of the petition, and reads out what was concealed...
J.D. - 'Alright, listen... - '
We students of Westerburg High will die, today. Our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us. Fuck You All!
J.D. - '...It's not very subtle, but then neither is blowing up the whole school, now is it? Talk about your suicide pacts, huh? When our school blows up tomorrow, it's gonna be the kind of thing to infect a generation! It'll be a Woodstock for the eighties!'
He pauses to admire the thought, but then becomes regretful...
J.D. - '..Damn it, Veronica! We could have toasted some marshmallows together!'
From the dining room, mom has been calling Veronica for some time..
Mom - 'What does she want, a written invitation? Dinner!'
J.D. - (hearing) 'Shit.'
He leaves in a hurry, forgetting the gun, which lies near the pillow.
Seconds later, mom walks in:
Mom - 'Veronica, I...' (She double takes at the sight of her daughter, hung.)
Mom - (stuttering) 'Oh... I should have let you take that job at the mall. It was just that... I was afraid of you coming home late at night, and I...'
Veronica raises her head, then reaches behind herself to release something. She lands neatly, in the middle of the bed.
V.S. - 'Hey mom, why so tense?'
He works feverishly to be ready - dynamite and detonators..
B.D. - (from outside) '"Hey pop, I need some help with my homework..." '
J.D. - 'Uh.. "Not right now tiger, I'm a little busy"...'
Veronica arrives. The corridors are full of arriving students.
P.F. - 'Veronica! J.D. told me you committed suicide last night!'
V.S. - 'Where is he? Where is J.D.?'
P.F. - (mother mode) 'We have to talk. Whether to kill your self or not is one of the most important decisions a teenager can make...'
V.S. - (contempt) 'Get a job!'
Veronica continues walking. She sees J.D., and hides till he passes. She tries to follow, but she loses him in the crowd. The bell rings and the corridors empty. Veronica pads down the corridors... searching...
We see J.D., under the school, setting demolition charges..
Suddenly, the corridors fill with students again. Veronica spots Rodney...
V.S. - 'Rodney, where's everybody going?'
R.O. - 'It's Friday.'
V.S. - (remembers) 'Shit, another pep assembly.'
R.O. - 'Yeah, these things can get pretty artificial, but at least you get out of class.'
V.S. - (thinking) 'Rodney, what's underneath the gym?'
R.O. - 'The boiler room...'
Veronica leaves him standing... She knows where to go now.
Again, the corridors empty. Veronica Sawyer is hunting her Ahab.
J.D. has just defeated the lock of the boiler room door. He turns to pick up the bag that contains the main bomb.
V.S. - 'May I see your hall pass?'
He's not so surprised, to be looking down the barrel of his own .44...
J.D. - 'Shit, I knew that loose was too noose.. I mean, noose too loose. You know, damn you woman...'
V.S. - 'Like father, like son... A serious-as-fuck bomb in the boiler room to set off a pack of thermals upstairs. Okay... Let's start by putting the bomb down on the ground.'
He nudges the bag at his feet.
V.S. - 'I knew that... I knew that... Okay, put your hands on your head...'
J.D. - 'You didn't say "Simon says..." '
In the moment of her perplexity, J.D. knocks the gun from her hand. They grapple. But this time J.D. isn't kidding around; he knees her in the face. Veronica slumps to the floor, unconscious.
Meanwhile, in the gym, proceedings are well underway - cheerleaders; pom-poms; chanting the school name; foot stomping; geeks gaping at cheerleaders through binoculars... the usual stuff.
Veronica Sawyer is bloody and angry. She can see her enemy, his back to her, on the other side of the boiler room. Carefully, she picks up a fire extinguisher, and then, very quietly and softly, she creeps toward him like the Tooth-Fairy of doom...
From the corner of his eye, J.D. spots a fleeting pounce. He whirls around, just in time to save the back of his skull. The gun slides across the floor. Again the two struggle; again J.D. is winning... This time though he prefers to kiss her face, rather than break it. It's something about her perfume, or her hair, or the blood smeared on her cheek. Or maybe it's the way she handles a fire extinguisher... Whatever it is, he wants more. He starts by covering her face with kisses.. And, in the moment of his distraction, Veronica takes her chance. Mid lick, J.D. feels a strange sensation... It's her knee in his crotch. Suddenly free, Veronica throws herself toward the gun. But before she can aim it, he's gone - back into the labyrinth of boilers and pipes.
Bleeding and shaking, Veronica looks for him. She can hardly hold up the gun that seems almost as big as her; she would much prefer to just call in the cops.. But she senses that time is running out. Suddenly, the combatants come face to face, or rather face to gun barrel... The timer is running...
J.D. - 'Do you think that just because you started this thing you can end it?'
V.S. - 'I'll kill you, I'll fucking kill you.. I swear to God! How do I turn off the goddamn bomb, asshole?'
J.D. - 'Fuck you!'
J.D. gives her the finger - not because he doesn't believe her threat, but because, after all, she did turn out to be 'like all the rest' - one of them... And Veronica realizes, then, that if looks could indeed kill, she'd be dead, right there - dead as Heather.
BAM!
J.D. - 'Shit!'
He gapes at the gushing stump where his finger had been. Trembling with shock, clutching the pumping wound, J.D. slides to the floor. He grabs a rag, and quickly wraps his hand...
V.S. - 'It's all over J.D., help me stop it!'
J.D. - 'You wanna clean slate as much as I do! Alright, so maybe I am killing everyone in the school... because nobody loves me! Let's face it, alright - the only place where different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven...'
V.S. - 'Which button do I press to turn it off?'
J.D. - 'Try the red one, alright?'
Maintaining careful aim, Veronica glances at the bomb... it has three red buttons..
J.D. - 'Seriously, people are gonna look at the ashes of Westerburg, and say - There is a school that self-destructed not because society didn't care... but because the school was society..! Pretty deep, eh?'
V.S. - 'Which red button?'
J.D. - 'Press the one in the middle, to turn it off... if that's what you really want.'
V.S. - 'You know what I want, babe...?'
J.D. - 'What??'
Suddenly, J.D. lunges. Light glints on a flashing switchblade. Veronica shoots.
V.S. - '...Cool guys like you, out of my life.'
The blade ends up in the timer, stopping it at four seconds.
Slightly dazed, Veronica looks in at the Gym. She knows they're all a bunch of idiots, but she smiles at the scene of normality. Descending the steps from the school's main entrance, Veronica feels faint, but free.
J.D. - 'Color me impressed...'
Veronica whirls around..
J.D. - (descending the stairs) '...You really fucked me up pretty bad, Veronica. You.. you've got power.. Power I didn't think you had.'
He opens his coat, revealing the bomb - duct-taped to his bleeding torso. The timer is reset to forty-five seconds. He continues down the stairs...
Some distance away, on the grass in front of Westerburg High, Jason Dean turns to face Veronica Sawyer - his unexpected nemesis. But with less than a minute to go, he no longer feels hate - especially not for her - the one who turned out to be both different and the same...
He even smiles..
J.D. - 'Pretend I did blow up the school... All the schools. Now that you're dead, what are you gonna do with your life?'
Perhaps Veronica should seek shelter from the coming blast... But all she does is take out a cigarette... She puts it in her mouth, and waits for a light...
In the sports hall, they're aware of a flash at the skylights, a change in air pressure and a distant boom. Principle Gowan, and others, hurry outside. But they find only a charred space where, apparently, something happened.
School closes early. Heather Duke is delighted; what ever that blast thing was it means a nice afternoon at the mall - a little shopping, a little cappuccino.. But before she can get to her locker she's stopped by an extraordinary sight - a girl, covered with soot, streaked with blood... A girl who looks exactly like..
H.D. - 'Veronica...?'
Veronica calmly regards Heather Number One - the last real Heather.
H.D. - '...You look like hell!'
V.S. - 'Yeah? I just got back.'
Without further ado, Veronica grasps the Heathers crown, and uses it to tie back her own hair..
H.D. - 'Veronica, what are you doing??'
V.S. - 'Heather my love, there's a new sheriff in town...'
And then, with her filthy hands, Veronica grasps Heather's plush, padded shoulders and draws her to a filthy kiss.Leaving Heather dazed, Veronica saunters down the corridor wondering what to do with her own afternoon. She spots someone she knows, or rather would like to know better...
V.S. - 'Hey, Martha! My date for the prom kind of flaked out on me... I was wondering, if you aren't doing anything that night, maybe we could rent some new releases? Pop some popcorn?'
M.D. - 'I'd like that.'
V.S. - 'Yeah, so would I.'
END
"Heathers"
Daniel Waters (circa 1988)
(Non-dialogue text: cb salter - 2003)
(My apologies to anyone who's copyright may have been infringed by this homage.)
Kim Walker, 1968-2001.