October 30, 2020, 7:00pm, PST


Location: The New Ridgemont High gym.  Colored streamers, balloons and 80’s themed decorations cover the walls and rafters. Several large disco balls and rows of colored lights hang from the ceiling. The bleachers have been pushed back to make room for tables, which form a ring around the dance floor. Billy Johnson and Tim Goldstein man the DJ booth at the far end of the gym. At the other end is a long buffet and separate drinks table. A good number of students have already arrived — many of them decked out in tuxedos and prom-style dresses — and are milling around excitedly.  Some are dancing.

Jaime Cohen, Carl Smitts, Sandy Kendel, and Denise Diamond enter the gym. They stand for a moment, scanning the room.

Jaime: [Whispering to Denise]  Are my eyes red?

Denise: [Whispering back] No. [Then, giggling] Well, maybe a little.  

Jaime: Shit! Every time I fucking smoke weed! And of course, I didn’t bring any Visine. Do you have some?

Denise: [Rummaging in her purse] Here. Better not let Carl see you doing that.

Jaime: [Turning around and putting a few drops in 

each eye] I know, it’s annoying. He’s so goddamned clean.

Denise: Not that clean. I mean, he did a shot with us, when we got to Sandy’s house.

Jaime: One shot. Whoop-de-fucking-do. That wouldn’t get my big toe drunk.

Denise: I’m sensing that all is not well in Jaime-Carl land.

Jaime: [Sighing] It’s been the longest month of my life. I’m sorry, but he’s boring, Dee. He may be good looking and popular, but he’s fucking boring. No sex.  No partying. I feel like some old guy’s trophy wife.

Denise: So, what are you gonna’ do?

Jaime: I don’t know. Is Tom Rosen here?

Denise: Not yet, at least, I don’t think so. Why? You’re not gonna’ hit on him, here, are you? In front of Carl?

Jaime: So what if I do? I’m feeling a little reckless.

Denise: That’ll be a bad scene, Jaime. Think about it.

Jaime: [Exasperated] Oh, I guess you’re right. Still … [looking thoughtful] … it doesn’t have to be out in the open. I could do him in the bathroom, or we could break into Mr. Longo’s office. He has a couch.

Denise: Classy.

Jaime: Fuck it. C’mon, the guys have gotten ahead of us. Let’s grab a table, before they’re all taken … [points] … that one, over there. We’ll be able to see people when they come in.

The girls make their way past Lee Lindberg, Lance Donaldson, Brian Milman, and several other nerds, who are standing in a nervous line, against the bleachers.  Lance and Brian are huddled over a Coleco Head to Head Football game that periodically emits beeping and buzzing sounds.  Lee stiffens as Jaime walks by, and then turns abruptly and smacks Lance on the back of the head.

Lance: Hey! That hurt!

Lee: Do you have to be such fucking losers?  Why’d you bring that stupid thing? 

Brian: What’s your problem? Don’t tell me you’re still fantasizing about Jaime Cohen?

Lee: Who says it’s a fantasy?

Lance: What, like you’re saying you’ve been with her?

Lee: [With a mysterious air] Let’s just say that things are in motion.

Brian: Yeah, your right hand. [Makes masturbatory gestures.]

Lance: Burn!

Lee: You guys don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

Brian: So, tell us, oh great one, what’s “in motion” with Jaime Cohen?

Lee: Like I’d tell you fucking losers.  

Lance: You’re such a liar, Lee. Jaime Cohen couldn’t pick you out of a lineup.

Brian: Even if everyone else in it was black.  

Lance and Brian: [High fiving each other] Burn! 

Lee: [Giving them a withering look] I don’t know why I even bother with you two geeks.

Brian: Um, maybe it’s because you’re a geek too?

Lance: Yeah, the only difference between you and us is that you’re fighting it and we’re not.

Lee: No, the difference is that you two chumps are fucking asexual.

Brian: Not asexual, just realistic.

Lance: Here comes Mitch and Tom and Chloe.

Lee: Great. More aggravation.

Brian: They’re walking arm-in-arm. Is there some kinky threesome thing going on?

Lance: [Eagerly] Is there?!  

Lee: No kinky threesome thing. They’re just friends. All happy friends together. It isn’t natural.

Lance: You’re a very angry man, Lee. Cheer up. At least, you’ll get to watch Jaime dance.

Brian: With someone way cooler than you.

Lance and Brian: Burn!

Mitch Bennett, Chloe Gold, and Tom Rosen make their way over to Lee and company.  Mitch and Tom are wearing black silk tuxedos, and Chloe is in a turquoise cocktail dress and white, leather, open-toed heels.

Chloe: Hey guys! Lee, Lance, Brian … How’s it going?

Lee: [Sulkily] Okay.

Lance: [With slight disbelief] Uh, great!  How are you doing … uh … Chloe?

Chloe: Totally psyched! This is gonna’ be a rocking party!

Tom: The tables are filling up. We should get one. How about over there, with Anna and Marissa?  

Chloe: Okay … wait, they’re boyfriendless. Where’re Billy and Tim?

Tom: They’re DJ’ing, remember? They convinced Principal Friedman to let them do it, rather than hire someone.

Chloe: Oh yeah, that’s right.  Okay, let’s go keep the girls company. Catch you later boys!

Chloe and Tom head over to Anna’s and Marissa’s table. Mitch stays behind.

Lance: She talked to us!

Brian: She’s amazing.  

Lee: Watch out you don’t mess yourself.

Mitch: For Christ’s sake, Lee, lay off.

Lee: Fuck you. We’re not in the computer room. You’re not in charge, here.

Mitch: Whatever. What’s with the clothes, guys?  Couldn’t you dress up just this once?

Lee: Sorry, we can’t be as suave as you, Mitch. We don’t have Tom Rosen advising us on our wardrobes.

Mitch: Why are you being such a dick, Lee? Ever since we started at New Ridgemont High. You weren’t like this at Clark. We were friends, or at least I thought we were.

Lee: I thought we were too, until you found cooler people to hang out with.

Brian: That’s not fair. Mitch is allowed to make new friends. It’s not like he’s ditched us.

Lance: Yeah, Chloe and Tom are really nice. You’re just jealous.

Lee: [Sulking again] Humph.

Mitch: So, are you guys gonna’ join the party? Or are you going to stand here the whole time?

Lance: We’re a little nervous.

Brian: Yeah, it seems safer over here.

Mitch: Look, I totally know how you feel. It’s scary. At Clark, everyone was like us, but here, it’s different. Star Crew, punks, greasers. Half the time, I’m terrified too.  All I can say is, you gotta’ just jump in, you know? Join us. I’ll introduce you. You too, Lee.

Lance and Brian: [Looking at each other] Uh, alright.

Lee: Only if they put away that stupid fucking Coleco game.

Brian: [Making a big show of putting it in the pocket of his Members Only jacket]: Okay, it’s away.

Lance: Lead on, el Capitan.

Lee: But if you guys make asses of yourselves, I’m splitting.

Brian: Oh, we wouldn’t want that. I mean, you’re such pleasant company.

Mitch: Come on!

Fran Rosenberg and Sean Anderson enter the room.  Sean sports a black tuxedo, with a Judas Priest t-shirt and cowboy boots, and Fran looks slinky in a black, spandex tube dress and black patent leather stiletto heels. Both have Ray-Ban Wayfarers on.

Fran: Do you think Marty and Kevin are here yet?

Sean: Dunno’. They were supposed to stop at Joanne’s  house. Stacy was gonna’ meet them there too. Smoke out, have a few drinks, and then come over.

Fran: Hmm. Maybe we should have stopped there ourselves.

Sean: I got high enough in the car. Plus, I’ve got a flask of Jameson.

Fran: You’re my kind of drunk, Sean. Jesus, I’m pretty stoned too.

Sean: I don’t know where Jo gets this shit, but I’m glad she does. So, what now?

Fran: The tables are almost all taken. Let’s grab one and wait for the others.

Sean: Right on.

The two commandeer one of the tables, near the edge of the dance floor.

Fran: I should get us some Cokes. We can pour the whiskey in ‘em. Someone’ll see us, if we drink straight out of the flask.

Sean: Will anyone care? Half of them are lit up too.

Fran: Probably not, but why look for trouble? Why put them in the position where they have to wonder whether they should do something?

Sean: You’re getting smart on me, Francie. It’s hot.

Fran: [Touches her nose] Stealth, Sean. It’s how you survive.

Sean: Right. Better get those Cokes. Methinks you need a drink.

Fran: [Wiggles her ass in Sean’s face] Back in a flash.

Fran disappears into the now crowded dance floor and reappears, after a few moments, with two glasses of Coke.

Sean: Well done! [Grabs the glasses and proceeds to dump half of each on the floor. Fills them back up with Jameson and hands one to Fran.] Salut!

Fran: [Taking a big gulp.] Salut!

Sean: Fuck, I wish I could smoke.

Fran: Yeah, I guess we’d have to go outside. Even in the 80’s you couldn’t smoke at a school dance.

Sean: [Suddenly animated and pointing] Oh! Oh! That reminds me. You know what my uncle told me?

Fran: The uncle that gets you high all the time and teaches you all your slick 80’s moves and lingo?

Sean: That’s the one. Anyway, get this, he said they had a smoking lounge in his school.

Fran: No fucking way.

Sean: Yes fucking way. Think about it. A lot of Seniors are eighteen. It’s legal for them.

Fran: That’s insane.

Sean: Right? So, I’ve decided to get political.

Fran: Political?

Sean: Political.

Fran: You’re joking.  

Sean: Nope.

Fran: What are you going to “get political” about?

Sean: I’m gonna’ demand that they put a smoking lounge in New Ridgemont High.

Fran: [Cracking up] I’m sure Principal Friedman will get right on that one.

Sean: You say that now. You haven’t heard my argument.

Fran: You have an argument?

Sean: [Smiling proudly] Of course.

Fran: Wow, this school’s really working with you, isn’t it.

Sean: It’s the air here. Very good air. Anyway, my argument is that we should have a smoking lounge, because they had smoking lounges in high school in the 80s, and New Ridgemont High is supposed to be a  replica of an 80s high school. [Folds his arms triumphantly.]

Fran: That’s very ingenious. I still don’t think Friedman will go for it, though.

Sean: Who said anything about asking Friedman?

Fran: Who are you gonna’ ask then? Chloe Gold? Pfft.  Not only won’t she do it, she’ll sign you up for a smoking cessation program and pay for it.

Sean: Very harsh. I’m detecting a little malice there.  But calm yourself. I’m not asking her either. I’m gonna’ ask Tom Rosen.

Fran: Now that is smart. I could see him doing it, just for the fuck of it.

Sean: My thoughts exactly. And Tom has connections to Chloe, and Chloe can convince Friedman.

Fran: I’m not sure of that.

Sean: [Snorts] I am. Have you seen those two together?  

Fran: [Sighing] Is that all you boys do? Think about who might be fucking whom? No wonder I date college guys.

Sean: Say whatever you want. That’s a thing waiting to happen.

Marty Savini, Kevin Reilly, Joanne Genduso, and Stacy Singer arrive at the table. Marty and Kevin are wearing black leather suits, with white t-shirts and red Chuck Taylor high tops. Joanne is in worn leather pants, hot pink low-cut Chuck Taylors, and a faded Runaways t-shirt.  Stacy is sporting a black, one-strap mini-dress, with thick-soled Doc Martens on her feet. They all have Ray-Ban Wayfarers on.

Kevin: The reinforcements have arrived!

Fran: Go get yourselves Cokes. Sean’s got Jameson.

Kevin: Fuck that. Let’s spike the punch! [Holds up a bottle of Everclear and gives a wicked cackle]

Fran: Do what you want. I can’t drink that shit.

Kevin: Jo, come with me and give me cover.

Joanne: Right on.

Kevin and Joanne head over to the drinks table. A small group of mousey girls is there, but they clear out, after Joanne gives them a menacing look.

Joanne: [Standing with her back to Kevin, blocking him from view] Hurry the fuck up, before someone sees us.

Kevin: Keep your pants on. [Pours half the bottle into the punch and stirs it with the ladle] That should get everyone good and smashed. We’ll save the rest for the refill. [Fills two cups]

Joanne: Good deal. Fills two cups for herself]

The two return to the table, where Stacy has put her feet up. Sean is telling a dirty joke.

Kevin: Okay, the punch is “fixed.” Go get some, before people figure it out.

Stacy and Sean get up to leave for the drinks table.  

Fran: Sean! Since you’re gonna drink that antifreeze, give me the flask.

Sean: [Handing it to her] Here you go, Francie. [Follows Stacy, who’s already left.]

Fran: So, what’s going on, boys? Haven’t seen you all week.

Marty: Not much. We’re almost done with the Boss’s car.

Sean and Stacy return, with two cups each, and sit down.

Kevin: That is one sweet fucking ride.  

Stacy: I never thought I’d see the day when you guys worked for the Man.

Marty: Are you kidding? Doc Friedman’s cool. He came down to the shop yesterday and hung out for like an hour, watched us work, took cig breaks with us…

Kevin: Fucking righteous. He’s even paying us … ten bucks an hour.

Fran: What’s he having you do?

Marty: Restoration, mostly. He’s had the car since he was a teenager, but it was on blocks for, like, twenty years. When he bought it, it was a mongrel … stray parts and shit, from a dozen different cars.  

Kevin: We’ve been finding original parts for him and doing all the installation. This week we put in the last one.

Fran: Which was?

Marty: An original 390 GT engine. Fucking suh-weet!!!

Fran: Does that mean you guys are done?

Kevin: Nah, we still gotta’ paint it. The thing’s stripped.  Plus, he’s gonna’ want us to do regular maintenance, so we’ll get to work on that baby for a long time.

Marty: Did he tell you what color he wants? I vote black.

Kevin: He wants it red. That was the original color.

Marty: Red’s cool.

Stacy: Well, this is fascinating and all, but I’m fucking bored. What do you guys wanna’ do?

Fran: I could use a refresher. Plus, I’m dying for a cigarette.

Sean: I wanna’ dance.

Stacy: [Snorts] To this New Wave shit?

Fran: It’ll get better. Tim told me he’s got some Idol  and some Crue on the queue. it probably won’t come on until later, though, after the little kids have left.

Marty: So let’s go outside and smoke up. Jo’s got the spliffs.

Joanne: Rock and roll.

Kevin: Let’s do it.

The gang gets up, leaving their jackets on the chairs, and head for the exit.

Mitch, Tom, Chloe, Anna, Marissa, Lee, Lance, and Brian are sitting at their table, talking.

Mitch: We should get drinks and have a toast.

Chloe: You’re so official, Mitch. It’s cute.

Lee: [Glowering]That’s always been one of his strong points … cuteness.

Tom: I’ll do it. [Taking the centerpiece off the table]  Insta-tray. [Heads off to the drinks table]

Mitch: Well, this is kind of a big deal, isn’t it? You winning the election. New Ridgemont High’s three month anniversary. A formal ball to celebrate. A toast seems appropriate.

Chloe: [Squeezing Mitch’s arm] I agree, sweetie.  

Anna: I thought Tom had you in that debate Chloe.

Chloe: So did I.

Marissa: That was dirty pool. I can’t believe you’re even talking to him after that, let alone making him your Veep.  

Chloe: You just have to know him. He didn’t mean any harm. In a funny way, I think it was his way of paying me respect.

Marissa: You’ll have to explain that one.

Chloe: By going after me as hard as he could, he showed everyone how worthy I am … or something weird like that. He’s a really intense guy. All that laid-back shit is just an act.

Mitch: I can see that. He’s like a loaded spring.

Anna: Shh. Here he comes.

Tom returns with the tray, loaded with glasses of punch.

Tom: I brought several for each of us.

Lee: Jesus, how much punch do you think we want to drink?  

Chloe: It does seem like overkill, honey.

Tom: [Laughs]. You’ll be mad I didn’t bring more.  Especially since the word seems to have gone around.  There won’t be much left, soon.

Lance: [Whispering to Brian] How good can punch be?

Brian: [Whispering back] I don’t know. I usually drink Tab. Too much sugar makes me talk funny.

Mitch: [Taking a sip] Ugh! What the…?

Chloe: [Tasting it] Oh, I see.

Lee: [Impatiently] What? What is it? [grabs a glass and downs it. Shudders.] Spiked. It’s fucking spiked!

Tom: Bingo.

Anna and Marissa: Sweet! Pass some over!

Mitch: I dunno’. We probably shouldn’t. I mean, we’re all underage.

Lee: [Mockingly] Aw, Mitch says we shouldn’t drink.  Whatsamatter, Mitch, you afraid Mommy and Daddy are gonna’ find out and think less of you?

Mitch: You’re a real jerk, Lee.

Tom: Yeah, cool it, little man.

Lee: What happened to “no moral policemen”?

Tom: I’m making an exception in your case. Go ahead and drink it, Mitch, it’ll put hair on your chest.

Mitch: I’m not sure I want hair on my chest.

Marissa: Sure you do! All the 80’s male sex symbols had hairy chests. Think Tom Selleck.

Lance: [Whispering excitedly to Brian] Did she just compare Mitch to 80’s male sex symbols?

Brian: [Whispering back] To Tom Selleck, specifically.

Lance: [Whispering] I think I’m drunk. Are you drunk?

Brian: [Whispering back] Ya.

David Weber and Laurie Pence enter the gym. David is looking very cool, in a black tuxedo and black patent leather shoes, his hair slicked back, and Laurie is wearing an oversized men’s suit and button-down shirt, her luxurious, red hair spilling over her shoulders and back. Chloe spots them and waves them over.

David: Heya!

Laurie: Hi guys!

Chloe: You two look amazing!

David and Laurie: Thanks!

Lee: David! Quick!

David: What?

Lee: [Grabbing the centerpiece and thrusting it at him]  Go to the drinks table and get as many glasses of punch as you can. Spare no effort. Employ violence if necessary!

David: Uh, okay. [Takes the tray and walks off, with a confused look on his face.]

Laurie: What’s up with that?

Tom: The punch is spiked. Really spiked.

Laurie: [Taking a glass of punch] Nice! So, this truly is an 80’s party.

Tom: New Ridgemont High is nothing if not a carefully crafted replica. It’s the ‘80s, down to the greasers spiking the punch.

Mitch: How do you know it was the greasers?

Tom: For one thing, it’s the kind of thing they’d do. For another, I watched Kevin Reilly pour half a bottle of Everclear into the punch bowl.

Chloe: [Laughing and starting on her second punch]  Well, thank goodness for the greasers, then. Try some, Mitch.

Mitch: Well, okay. [Takes a sip] Doesn’t taste too great.

Tom: It’s spiked high-school-dance-punch, not a vintage Cabernet.

Lance: [Whispering to Brian] I never realized how hot Laurie is.

Brian: [Whispering back] You think anyone with boobs is hot.

Lance: [Whispering] Can you believe how many girls are sitting with us!?  

Brian: [Whispering back] You see? Stick with Mitch. We’ll be legends after tonight.

David returns to the table, with the tray, loaded with more punch glasses.

Lee: You rock!

David: What’s so great about this fucking punch? I almost got assaulted, getting it. I mean, since when is there ever a run on punch?

Lance: [Loudly] When it’s spiked!

Brian: [Waving vaguely in the air] Very spiked.  

Lance: Drunk, drunk, drunk! We’re all drunk!

Lee: Jesus, even booze can’t help you two sad sacks.

Marissa: I think it’s cute.

Lee: What is it with this fucking “cute” thing, tonight, anyway?

Chloe: It’s a meme, Lee.

Tom: Impossible, there weren’t any memes in the 80’s. What about that toast, Mitch?

Mitch: [who has finished his punch and brightened substantially] Right! A toast! [stands up, takes another glass, and raises it.

Everyone raises their glasses.

Mitch: I’d like to thank everyone at the Academy…

Everyone cheers.

Mitch: No, seriously, where to begin?  

Lance: At the beginning?

Mitch: Well, first of all, I’d like to toast Chloe, New Ridgemont High’s first Student Body President and my dear friend.

All: Woo Hoo!

Chloe: [Her face shining] Oh, guys…

Mitch: Let’s also drink to Tom, who’s gonna’ be an awesome Veep! Plus, he’s the one who talked me into coming out tonight.

All: Yay, Tom!

Mitch: Finally, to New Ridgemont High, for giving me a world full of magic and to all of you, for sharing it with me. [Downs his drink and sits.]

Chloe: Mitch, that was beautiful. 

Tom: Hear, hear!

Chloe: We should go dance! Mitch, you and me! Let’s tear it up!

Mitch: [Looking mortified] What? Oh, no, no, that wouldn’t be good at all.

Chloe: Aw’, c’mon!

Tom: Have another punch. It’ll make you braver.

Mitch: One ‘sec. [Downs another glass of punch and steels himself] Okay, let’s do it, fast, before I change my mind.

Chloe: [Jumping up and grabbing Mitch’s hand] Yay!

The two make off for the dance floor.  

Tom: How about you, Anna? You think Billy will be cool with it?

Anna: Absolutely.  He’s in heaven, up in that DJ booth.  He wouldn’t notice if we stripped naked and fucked in the middle of the dance floor.

Tom: Good to know.

Tom and Anna depart.

Lee: [Looking at Marissa, with a combination of terror and lust] Uh, uh…

Marissa:  Lance! You’re mine!

Lance: [Gulps]  I am?

Marissa: Yes, you have to dance. Now!

Lance: [In a daze] I do?

Marissa: Yes.

Lance: Now?

Marissa: Right now.

Brian: [Elbowing Lance and hissing] Do it, you idiot!

Lance: [Downs a fourth punch and jumps up] Right!

Marissa and Lance head over to the dance floor.

Lee: Lance?  She wants to dance with Lance?! Has the whole world gone fucking haywire?

Brian: You see? That whole being-a-dick thing doesn’t really pay off.

Lee: Yeah?  We’ll see about that. [Stands up.] I’m gonna’ get some food, and then I’m gonna’ find some people who appreciate my qualities.

Lee leaves the table and makes his way towards the buffet.

David: [Who’s been talking quietly with Laurie] We’re gonna’ go too; grab some food and check out the DJ booth.

David and Laurie depart.

Brian: [Takes another glass of punch and puts his feet up on the table. Gazes lovingly at the girls dancing.]  Ah, this is the life!

Will Friedman and Sal Levy enter the gym.  They stand for a moment, surveying the scene.

Sal: That’s some crowd.

Will: They’re great, aren’t they?

Sal: Yes, they are. Let’s get some drinks and check things out.

The two arrive at the drinks table, which is mobbed with students.

Girl: Hiiii Principal Friedman! Are you having fun tonight?  [Bursts into giggles and goes off with her friends.]

Guy: Saaaallll! [Claps Sal on the back]

Sal: Hey, man! [Hi fives the guy] [to Will] Must be good punch.

Will: [Looking suspicious] Hmm, I wonder. Pours himself a glass and smells it. Yeah, I thought so. It’s spiked.

Sal: You’re kidding.

Will: No, it smells like turpentine. Must be grain alcohol or something.

Sal: What are you gonna’ do?

Will: Nothing.

Sal: You’re gonna’ let them drink that? Every single one of them’s underage.

Will: So?

Sal: Let’s see. For one thing, it’s illegal.

Will: I don’t see any cops here, do you?

Sal: That’s hardly the point. What about the liability?  What if one of ‘em falls down the stairs or something?

Will: Um, we used to spike the punch at our high school parties, Sal.

Sal: Well, yeah, but that’s different.

Will: [Looking pointedly at him] Why?

Sal: Good question. I don’t know exactly. I guess it’s because you get into a lot more trouble for that sort of thing now.

Will: Not in New Ridgemont High. And not in our town.  Remember, the cops have agreed to return to 80’s policing standards. They’re not on the hunt for every teenager who might be hiding a beer or a cigarette.  As far as I can tell, the town hasn’t burnt down or anything.

Sal: I guess that’s true. But, still…

Will: This is important Sal. I know it seems frivolous, but it actually gets to the very heart of the matter.

Sal: How so?

Will: The plotting, the planning, the figuring out how to get around, and under, and over things; the development of initiative, discretion … these are capacities, qualities that almost no young person has today. And how do we know that this isn’t the reason?  That it’s because we never let them toe the line – cross it, even – because we’re constantly breathing down their necks and busting them at every opportunity?

Sal: We don’t, of course.

Will: Well, I’d go farther than that. I say that this is the reason and a thousand other little things like it. Think of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Sal: [Laughing] Nooo! He’s pulling out the John Hughes movies. Should I sit down?

Will: Could you even imagine a movie like that being made today?

Sal: No, I can’t.

Will: Why?

Sal: Well, for one thing, his school would be a fortress.  For another, there’d be cops all over town. He’d never be able to get out and go running around, like that.

Will: Right, he’d have a S.W.A.T. team up his ass and be arrested and charged with multiple felonies. Ferris Bueller’s Day in San Quentin. The movie would be twenty minutes long.

Sal: Got it. But what’s the point?

Will: That character embodies the form that ‘80s teen rebelliousness took; the clever, street-smart, slightly slick machinator. Today, those qualities are almost impossible to acquire, and no new form of rebelliousness has taken its place. They’re docile, passive, obedient. What kind of adults do you think they’re gonna’ turn into? Corporate and government tools.

Sal: Look, you know we agree on a lot of this. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with drinking or partying and there is a terrible, dispirited quality among teens today.

Will: But…

Sal: Back then, these kids would have gotten away with this, ‘cause the administration and teachers would’ve been clueless. But we’re not. We know the punch is spiked. We know that they’re drinking. And we know they’re gonna’ be driving home … or at least, a lot of them will. 

Will: So that’s it. Your objection is about safety.

Sal: It’s reckless Will. You can’t knowingly let them drive home drunk. Frankly, I’m stunned you’re even considering it.

Will: [Smiles broadly and pulls out a thick wad of money. Holds it up.] I suspected something like this would happen. It’s taken care of. They’re all going home in taxis. 

Sal: You’re insane. You know that, right?

Will: [Laughing and putting his arm around Sal’s shoulder] I sure hope so.  Look, there’s Chloe, Tom, and the gang. Let’s go and say ‘Hi’.

Sal: [Laughing] Sounds good!

The two approach the kids, who are dancing in a loose throng, in the middle of the dance floor.

Chloe: Will! Sal! [Breaks off from Mitch and runs over to Friedman, embracing him in a big hug]

Will: [Laughing] Well, hello to you too!

Chloe: [Turning to Sal and kissing him on the cheek]  We’ve been boogie-ing. Haven’t we Mitch?

Mitch: Is that what that was?

Tom: Principal Friedman!  

Will: [Extending his hand] Tom, good to see you!

Tom: [Taking it] Didn’t expect to see you two out.

Sal: The Lord of the Manor must walketh among the people. I am merely his humble servant.

Will: Ignore him. You think I’d miss seeing all of you fabulous people, dressed to the nines?

Mitch: We do look pretty good, don’t we?

Will: You do, indeed. It suits you.

Mitch: [Beaming] I look good! [Chloe hugs him]

Will: You sound surprised.

Mitch: You don’t know the half of it.

Sal: You all seem very … how shall I put it? Festive.

Anna: Busted.

Chloe: I take it you’ve sampled the punch.

Will: More like red paint thinner than punch, really, but yeah, we’ve tasted it.

Chloe: So, what are you going to do?

Will: Nothing at all. Have a good time!

Chloe: That’s it?

Will: Well, no … I’m paying for taxis for everyone too.

Sal: Go ahead, tell him he’s insane.

Tom: [Smiling] You’re insane, Principal Friedman.

Chloe: [Looking intently at Friedman] I see.

Will: [Slightly disarmed.] Yeah, so it’s cool. Go have a good time!

Chloe: [Moving closer] I don’t think so.

Will: You don’t?

Chloe:  I’m not going anywhere, until you dance with me! [Grabs his hand, laughing, and pulls him into the dancing throng]

Sal: My god, she’s as crazy as he is.

Tom: Long live the King and Queen of New Ridgemont High. They’ll put this place on the map. [Hands Sal a glass of punch]

Anna: Come on, Mitch! You and me!  

Mitch: Again? You want me to do that again?

Anna: I’ll show you how to do it better.

Mitch: Uh, alright! [Follows a whooping Anna.]

Sal: [Sipping his punch thoughtfully] But that’s just it, Tom.

Tom: What’s just it?

Sal: What you said, before. Do we want to be “on the map”?

Tom: I don’t know, but I know Friedman’s thought about it.

Sal: How do you know that?  

Tom: It was something Chloe said, after she asked me to be her Veep. Friedman had told her that it was important she have someone like me on board, to keep an eye on the outside world.

Sal: He’s expressed similar concerns to me and I share many of them. We should keep a lower profile. There’s a lot of stuff going on here [holds up the punch], which would raise serious questions, if it got out. Now, I understand that we’re doing a social experiment and that these are precisely the sorts of details that Will’s model requires attending to, but the public won’t understand that or care. You know how things are, now. We have to be discrete.

Tom: Agreed. Though it makes me mad. It’s such goddamned bullshit, especially coming from those people, with all their corruption and scandals and wars.

Sal: A rare moment of unconstrained emotion from you, Mr. Rosen, but I concur. [Downs the punch] God, this stuff is bloody awful.

Tom: Wanna’ talk some more? We could go back to our table. I think Brian’s holding the fort.

Sal: Sounds great. [Takes two more cups of punch and follows him]

Chloe, Will, Mitch, Anna, Marissa, and Lance are dancing together in a loose group.

Marissa: No, not like that.  Come closer, when I put my arms up.

Lance: The mind wills, but the body disobeys.

Marissa: You’re fine. You don’t dance any worse than any other guy in this school.

Lance: Really?

Marissa: Really.  

Mitch: [Over his shoulder] I don’t know about that. I’ve been hanging out with Myron and his friends. Those guys can dance.

Marissa: I was talking about lame white guys.

Lance: Well, that helps.

Marissa: I’m speaking in generalities.

Anna: Yeah, I mean, she’s dating a lame white guy.

Lance: So, how come no one will date me? I’m a lame white guy too.

Marissa: You could get dates. I’d go out with you, if I wasn’t already with Tim.

Lance: You would?

Marissa: Absolutely. You’re cute. Funny. Nice [Spins at Lance, who catches her] And you’re becoming a pretty good dancer.

Lance: So how come everyone makes fun of me?

Marissa: Don’t buy into the Star Crew propaganda.  That’s all that top-clique shit ever is; bullshit to convince people that they’re the best looking and the coolest.   They’re not.

Lance: Yeah, but they still do it. And it still feels bad.

Marissa: There’s nothing you can do about that, honey, except stop caring. I mean, there’re plenty of other cool people to hang out with. You’d be welcome with the art, music, and theater kids.

Mitch: That’s what I’ve learned, Lance. If you approach people and you’re up-front, they’ll usually give you a chance. Not everyone, but most. I mean, I hang out with the Compton guys all the time, now. A year ago, I’d never have even dreamt of it. 

Anna: I think you’re underestimating how much guts it takes, Mitch. I’m not sure how many of the kids that get picked on are as brave as you are.

Lance: Yeah, I never could have done the stuff you’ve done, Mitch. I’m too scared.

Mitch: You’re doing it right now; dancing with a girl who you would have sworn was out of your league, just a few hours ago.

Lance: I am, aren’t I?

Marissa: [Grabbing him and playfully kissing him] Yes, you are!

Lance: I’m definitely liking this new thing. What’s it called?

Mitch: Life, Lance. It’s called life.

The four dance off, leaving Chloe and Will, who have been dancing and talking.

Will: So, how are you enjoying your party?

Chloe: My party?

Will: Well, yeah. It’s a celebration of the election…you won the election. Therefore, it’s your party.

Chloe: My party. I like that.

Will: You deserve it … truly.

Chloe: I do, don’t I? I ran a damned fine campaign.

Will: Yes you did. As did Tom.

Chloe: I’m really glad I took your advice. He’s been awesome to me, ever since I asked him to be my Veep.

Will: Was there trouble before?

Chloe: [Sighs] I don’t know, it was weird. Back in Beverly Hills, Tom and I used to hang out every day … took all our classes together, did stuff after school, that kind of thing. Then we came here, and suddenly it was like we didn’t even know each other. We never talked. In fact, I didn’t so much as see Tom, until right before the election campaign started. 

Will: Had you two been dating, at Beverly Hills?

Chloe: No.

Will: Unrequited love, on his part, then?

Chloe: [Pauses, thinking] I don’t think so.

Will: Why not?

Chloe: I’ve known Tom since the second grade, and he’s never asked me out.  

Will: That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a thing for you.

Chloe: He doesn’t look at me that way, Will.  

Will: I see.

Chloe: [Spins] Enough talking about Tom.

Will: What should we talk about instead?

Chloe: You and me.

Will: What about us?

Chloe: How do you think this thing’s gonna’ go; us working together?

Will: What do you think?

Chloe: I think it’s going to be interesting.

Will: [Laughs] Every man dreads being called “interesting.”

Chloe: Not you, silly. I’m talking about being a student and working with the administration, at the same time.

Will: You can more than handle it.

Chloe: I’ve never been involved in something like this.

Will: You give administrative work too much credit.  With a mind and personality like yours? You could walk into any position, in any corporation or government agency in the country, and do just as good a job as the people working there now. Ditto for Tom and Mitch.

Chloe: [Laughing] Why all this, then? I thought the story was that we needed all this schooling, in order to “be citizens” and “participate in the economy.”  

Will: That’s the story all right.

Chloe: So, it’s bullshit.

Will: Yeah, it is.

Chloe: [Tossing her hair and looking defiant] Well,  never mind!  That’s not what our school’s about, is it?

Will: Definitely not. Awakening your interests. Honing your skills. Making friends for life. That’s what our school’s about.

Chloe: I love  New Ridgemont High, Will. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Will: It’s me who’s lucky, Chloe, to have people like you, here. You’re the reason why New Ridgemont High is so special. I just set up the field. You guys are the ones playing the game, and you’re doing it better than I could ever have dreamed.

Chloe: Is that what this is? A dream? If so, I never want to wake up.

Will: “When you dream, dream in the dream with me.”

Chloe: Simple Minds! New Gold Dream!

Will: [Dramatically puts his hands over his heart] She knows! A kindred spirit! Miss Gold, you are officially the coolest girl in the school.

Laughing, the two dance off.

Cut to outside the school. Kevin, Marty, Joanne, and Stacy are hanging out around their cars, in the circle drive, smoking joints and cigarettes and talking. Fran and Sean have gone to the convenience store across the street, to buy another flask of Jameson. The Runaways, “I Wanna Be Where the Boys Are” is blaring from a car stereo.

Lee comes through the front doors and marches determinedly towards the group.

Kevin: Look , a little person.

Stacy: He’s a nerd, Kevin, not a munchkin.

Marty: He looks pissed off.

Stacy: He looks drunk.

Marty: That too.

Lee: Hey guys, I’m Lee!

Joanne: Fuck off!

Lee: Whoa!

Kevin: [Puts his arm around Lee’s shoulder] You just have to get to know her. What can we do for you, man?

Lee: I’m sick and tired of my fucking friends. They’re losers!

Kevin: I see your problem.

Lee: I mean, they brought a goddamned Coleco Head-to-Head football game to a dance. Who the fuck does that?

Kevin: [Sympathetically] No one. It’s terrible.

Lee: That’s what I said! And then that hot girl, Marissa, goes off and dances with Lance. Lance! I mean, what the fuck?!

Kevin: I wouldn’t dance with him. How about you, Marty?

Marty: I wouldn’t dance with him either.

Lee: [Sighs] It’s such a relief to be around reasonable people.

Joanne: Does that mean you’ll fuck off now?

Stacy lets out a barking laugh and spits out a mouthful of punch.

Kevin: Ignore her.  What can we do to help?

Lee: [Waves lazily] Oh, I don’t know. You guys just seemed really cool, and I figured, since I’m too cool for my stupid friends, I should find cooler people to hang out with … like you!

Kevin: Good thinking.

Lee: So, whatcha’ doin’?

Kevin: Nothing much. [Gestures around] Hanging out.  Partying a little.

Lee: Partying … oh, you mean getting high!

Stacy: He’s a smart one.

Kevin: Well, yes, but it’s much more than that. Good company, good conversation, think of it as a social event.

Joanne: Oh for God’s sake.

Kevin: [Grinning] And far be it for us to be anti-social.  Right, Marty?

Marty: Anti-social? Us? Never.

Kevin: So, spark it up, son. [Hands Lee a half-smoked joint and a lighter]

Stacy: This I have to see.

Lee: [Takes the joint, excitedly.] Thanks! [Lights it and draws heavily]

Kevin: You might want to…

Lee: [Explodes in a fit of coughing]: Brrrrraaaahhhrrrr!!!

Kevin: …watch that first hit.

Lee: [Eyes closed, arms flapping wildly] Drink! Drink!

Stacy: This is better than watching the Special Ed kids doing PE.

Joanne: I can’t believe you’re wasting weed on this fucking dweeb.

Kevin: [Holds up a finger] Jo, be nice. [Takes the joint from Lee’s flailing hands and maneuvers a beer into them] Here you go. That should help.

Lee: [Downs it in one long gulp] Whew. Thanks.

Marty: Boy can drink.

Kevin: How ya’ feeling?

Lee: Fucking awesome!

Stacy: So, we’ve got a drunk and stoned nerd. What are we supposed to do with him?

Lee: [Leering at her] You’re really hot.

Kevin: See that, Stace? He likes you.

Lee: [Turning to Joanne] And you’re even…

Joanne: [Shooting him a look] Don’t say it! You’ll lose a body part.

Lee: [Laughs and waves at her] No problemo baby, you know what you’ve got.

Kevin: Ready for another hit, Lee? [Hands him the joint]

Lee: [Taking the joint and brandishing it] Ready?!  Ready?! Sheeet, I was born ready!

Stacy: The kid’s gonna’ run into traffic or something.

Lee: It’s cool baby, I’ve got the drift. [Leans back against the hood of Kevin’s ‘71 Dodge Challenger and sucks at the joint suavely] 

Stacy: It’s horrible and fascinating at the same time.

Lee: [Elbows Kevin] She thinks I’m fascinating! [Takes another hit off the joint] I’m a fucking legend! Wait until I rub this in Mitch’s smug face.

Stacy: Who’s Mitch?

Lee: [Sliding back against the car] Oh, baby, don’t even get me started on that dick.

Stacy: How about we ixne the “baby’s”?

Lee: [Waves at her and lets out a stream of smoke] You got it, honey.

Stacy: Uh…

Marty: I’d leave it at “honey.”  Whatever comes next is gonna’ be worse.

Stacy: Can’t you, like, beat him up or something?

Marty: We can’t beat the boy up, now, after we’ve gotten him high. That’d be bad Karma.

Stacy: Humph.

Joanne: [Pointing at Lee]  Hey man, don’t bogart the fucking joint. Hand it over.

Lee: [Sidles up to Joanne and passes her the joint] You know, you really are…”

Joanne: [Holds up her hand] Yeah, we covered that already.

Stacy: Here come Sean and Fran. They’re gonna’ love this.

Sean and Fran cross the street and join the group. Sean is carrying a bulging paper bag.

Sean: [Holding up the bag like a trophy] Why buy a flask, when you can buy a half-gallon? Shots all around!

Lee: Shots? Awesome!

Fran: What’s with the dork?

Kevin: This is Lee, Fran. He’s tired of hanging out with losers.

Fran: So, he decided to look you guys up?

Marty: That’s hard, Francie. Very hard.

Sean: Is he cool? [Gets close to Lee and sniffs around him] You cool, man?

Lee: Me? Are you kidding? I’m so cool that … that … [thinks for a moment and then gives up] … I’m cool!

Kevin: We’re teaching Lee how to hang out and have a good time. Heights Boys style.

Sean: So, you wanna’ be one of the Heights’ Boys, Lee, is that it?

Lee: Fuck yeah, I do! Wait, what’s a “Heights’ Boy”? It’s not something gay, is it?

Joanne: I’m starting to wonder.

Kevin: [Putting his arm around Lee’s shoulder again] It’s just a bunch of us guys who all grew up in the Heights.  We’ve been a gang since Sixth Grade.

Lee: [Eyes bulging with excitement] A gang?! Yeah!  I’m all about that! Do I get a leather jacket?

Stacy: He thinks we’re in, like, Grease or something.

Kevin: No, it’s not like that, man. No coordinated wardrobes. We just hang out, party, drive around, you know?

Lee: With girls?

Kevin: Girls are definitely involved, yes.

Lee: Oh, I am so in.

Kevin: He’s in, Marty.

Marty: I can see that.

Joanne: Tell me this is a fucking joke.

Lee: [Raising his eyebrows at Joanne and nodding] Me and you, baby, cruising.

Joanne: I thought you had the hots for Stacy.

Lee: You seem like more of a challenge.

Joanne: If you think of a broken arm as a challenge.

Lee: Why all the hostility, baby? I’m just looking for a love connection.

Kevin: Uh, Lee, haven’t you forgotten something?

Lee: What’s that?

Kevin: The initiation.

Lee: Initiation?

Marty: Initiation?

Kevin: [Looking hard at Marty] You know, the crazy, risky thing we all had to do, before we were allowed into the Heights Boys.

Stacy: Um, you guys are the only Heights Boys.

Kevin: Ignore her. Lee, you’ve gotta’ pull some kind of major stunt, something big, if you wanna’ be one of the Heights Boys.

Lee: I could take off my clothes and streak through the gym.

Stacy: I vote for that one.

Joanne: I don’t.

Kevin: It’s a good idea, Lee, definitely a good idea, but the nudity might not go over so well.

Lee: I could pull all the fire alarms.

Fran: Lee, we like having no cops here. You do that and the entire LAPD is gonna’ show up.

Sean: [Who has been pouring shots into plastic cups]  Shots!  

Everyone grabs a shot of Jameson and downs it. 

Lee: [Eyes bulging again] Graaggh! Whoa baby!

Marty: I’ve got it. [Reaches back into his car and pulls out the half-filled bottle of Everclear] Let Lee spike the punch.

Kevin: [Snaps his fingers] Right. They’ve probably put out a new bowl by now. You up for it, man?

Lee: [Puffs out his chest] Leave it to me. [takes the bottle and weaves towards the school]

Kevin: Jo, you’d better go with him.

Joanne: Why do I have to go? You’re the one who recruited the fucking twerp.

Kevin: [Soothingly] ‘Cause everyone’s scared of you.  They’ll clear out, and Lee can do his business, without getting us all busted.

Joanne: Mmrrphh! Okay! Alright! [Throws up her hands and follows Lee] Hey! Donnie Dorko! Wait up!

Stacy: Let’s go in. This is gonna’ be fucking hilarious.

Sean: [Who’s been pouring more shots] One more round. 

All: [Grabbing shots] One more round!

Cut to the DJ booth. David and Laurie are hanging out with Billy Johnson and Tim Goldstein, who are spinning records.

Billy: So, it’s been quite a transition. I mean, we were using digital equipment, exclusively — MacBooks and stuff — but there’s something really intuitive about the turntables. For one thing, the transitions are better.

Tim: And the sound. It’s fuller, richer, not super clean, like digital.

David: Are you going to do any actual scratching?

Billy: There’s no Rap in this playlist, so no. I want to practice doing that, before we take it live.

Laurie: How did you pick the playlist?

Billy: That was the easy part. Tim and I watched a bunch of 80’s teen movies and took notes on the soundtracks, especially during the party scenes.

Tim: We’re also trying to include enough variety to please everyone.

Billy: Right, so it’s split between New Wave, New Romantic, and some hair metal and commercial punk.  You know, Psychedelic Furs, Duran Duran, Motley Crue, Billy Idol … stuff like that.

Laurie: Well, it sounds awesome.

Billy: Thanks!

Tim: Any more of that killer punch?

David: [Scans the drinks table] Hmm. Looks like the bowl’s empty.

Tim: Crap.

Laurie: Wait, David, they’re re-filling it now.

David: Yeah, but it’ll just be plain punch. You don’t want plain punch, do you?

Tim: Uh, no.

Laurie: New development. Lee just came in with Joanne Genduso. They’re heading over to the drinks table, and Lee’s holding a brown paper bag.

David: Lee and Joanne Genduso? You’re fucking kidding. [Looks down] No, you’re not. What the hell?

Laurie: I’m gonna’ go check it out.  

David: Yeah, Lee’s not loving me too much right now… you might have better luck finding out what’s up.   Wave if you want me to come over, though.

Laurie: Okey dokey. [Heads off]

Cut to the drinks table, where Joanne and Lee have just arrived.  It’s deserted.

Joanne: Well, you didn’t fucking need me for this.

Lee: [Looking around] No one wants plain punch, now that they’ve had the good stuff.

Joanne: Hurry up and do your business, then. I can feel my social status collapsing.

Lee: [Takes the bottle of Everclear out of the bag and pours the remains into the punch bowl.] I’m disappointed. You sound like one of those Star Crew bitches.

Joanne: I am not like those girls. I just don’t like dweebs, OK?

Lee: [Puts the empty bottle back in the bag.] You don’t like us, they don’t like you … I was right, nothing’s different here, nothing at all.

Joanne: I obviously missed something.

Lee: [Looking bitter] It was just something I was saying to Mitch and those guys a few weeks ago. They were talking about how New Ridgemont High meant a new era for openness. I called it for the bullshit that it is.   

Joanne studies him, as if performing a reappraisal.

Laurie approaches the drinks table.

Laurie: Hey, Lee! Doing the Lord’s work, huh?

Lee: [Coolly] I guess.

Joanne: [Looking hard at Laurie] Who’s this?

Lee: Joanne Genduso, Laurie Pence. Laurie, Joanne.

Laurie: Hey!

Joanne: Whatever.

Kevin and Stacy arrive.

Kevin: Is it done?

Lee: It’s done.

Kevin: Rock and fucking roll! [Pours himself two large glasses] Better take some, Stace. Once people find out, it’ll disappear again.

Laurie: So, Lee, you’re hanging out with these guys, now, huh?

Lee: Looks like it.

Kevin: Who’s your friend?

Lee: [Sighing] Laurie Pence, Kevin Reilly.

Laurie: Hey.

Kevin: Well, hello cute girl.

Joanne: What is with you tonight? You got nerds on the brain or something?

Kevin: Hey, nerdy girls are in.[Sidling up to Laurie] So, baby, wanna’ dance?

Laurie: [Looking very pleased with herself.] I’d love to, but I’m taken.

Stacy: Rejected!

Kevin: [Clutches at his chest] Nooo! Who’s beaten me out?

Laurie: David Weber. He’s up in the DJ booth.

Kevin: [Seriously] Weber? He’s a good guy.

Joanne and Lee: He is?

Kevin: Yeah. He’s getting me through Trig.

Laurie: It’s nice to be appreciated, though. I’d totally dance with you otherwise.

Kevin: No problem, baby. You’re smokin’. If you ever ditch Weber, let me know.

Laurie: [Her eyes shining] I will! [Winks at him and then turns to David in the booth and gives him a thumbs-up.  David waves back.]

Lee: If he only knew. Poor bastard.

Laurie: You’re fucking grim, Lee. Hopefully these guys’ll get you in the party spirit.

Kevin: We’re working on it.

Laurie: [Pours several glasses of punch and gathers them up] Catch you later! [Kisses Kevin on the cheek and heads back to the DJ booth.]

Kevin: I like that girl.

Stacy: Clearly.

Billy [Over the PA]: I see that some of our hard rocking friends from the Heights have come back on the scene, from their meeting, out in the Circle.

Marty: [Shouting] Important business, man!

Billy: So, I think it only appropriate that I take this request, from my dear friend, Kevin Reilly, and inject some metal into this party!

The opening chords of Motley Crue’s “Wild Side” roar from the PA.

Kevin: Woohoo! [Raises his fists and pounds his chest]

Stacy: Now this is more like it. Let’s do it! [Grabs Kevin and they dance off.]

Marty: I’m getting Sean and Francie. They’re gonna’ want to be here for this. Back in a flash. [Heads for the exit]

Joanne: [Looks Lee up and down] Wanna’ dance?

Lee: [Stunned]  Dance?  Me? With you?

Joanne: Do you see anyone else standing here?

Lee: [Looks down.] But, I thought you hated me.

Joanne: No, I hated the way you were acting.

Lee: So, what happened?

Joanne: [Looking intently at him] What you said before … about them not liking us and us not liking you … it was righteous, man. [Puts her hand out] So, how about it?  Don’t make me fucking regret this.

Lee: [Eyes widening] Oh, no, definitely not. [Grabs a glass of punch and downs it. Takes Joanne’s hand and pulls her towards the dance floor] Rock and Roll!

Joanne: [Laughing and following him] Rock and Roll!

Cut to Jaime Cohen and Carl Smitts, sitting at their table. Denise Diamond, Sandy Kendel, Mike Neuman and Valerie Saunders are dancing nearby.

Jaime: C’mon Carl, I wanna’ dance.

Carl: You know I got a bum knee, baby. Coach told me to stay off it.

Jaime: Fuck Coach.  

Carl: Why you gotta’ curse all the time? Fine-looking fox like you, talking trash. [Puts his arm around her]

Jaime: [Shrugs it off] Maybe it’s because I’m frustrated and bored.

Carl: Why are you frustrated?

Jaime: Uh, hello, no sex?

Carl: You know how I feel about that, baby. Gotta’ do the right thing. Anyway, Coach says…

Jaime: You consult Coach on your fucking sex life?! 

Carl: What are you so pissed about?

Jaime: We never do anything, Carl.  

Carl: Just ‘cause I don’t wanna’ get drunk and high.

Jaime: It’s called ‘fun’. You should try it sometime.

Carl: I’m a varsity athlete, Jaime. The whole team is counting on me.

Jaime: Don’t you think you’re taking it a little too seriously? It’s high-school football, not the NFL.  

Carl: What about you? You’re just out there, shaking your booty and waving pom-poms.

Jaime: If it wasn’t for our booties, no one would come to your games. You guys fucking suck.

Carl: [Shakes his head] Talking trash again.

Jaime: Ugh, this isn’t working out.

Carl: No sweat, baby. Girls are lining up to go out with me.

Jaime: That’s all this is for you, isn’t it? Being the big-shot football player with a pretty girl on your arm.

Carl: I’m just saying…

Jaime: Well, don’t. I’ve had enough. We’re done.  

Carl: [Incredulous] You’re breaking up with me?

Jaime: Dumping you is more like it.

Carl: [Angry] Fine, be that way, bitch!

Jaime: [Getting up from the table] So, cursing’s ok now, huh? Fucking hypocrite. [Starts to leave]

Carl: [Calling after her] Why don’t you go hang out with your drunk, stoned, loser friends?

Jaime:  [Whirling around and giving him the finger] Fuck you, Carl!  FUCK YOU!

Denise: [Grabs Jaime’s arm, as she storms past] Wait, Jaime, what are you doing?!

Jaime: [Growling] Something I should have done weeks ago … ditching that lame fucker.

Denise: [In disbelief] You’re breaking up with Carl? But, he’s the all-state wide receiver!

Jaime: Especially because of that. I’m sick of all these jarhead football players. Boring dumbshits.

Mike: Hey!

Valerie: You do what you want to do, Jaime.

Mike: You go through with this and you’re not gonna’ have any friends. You’ll be blacklisted.

Jaime: Good riddance.

Valerie: [Turning to Mike] I happen to think she’s right.  So, what? You gonna’ “blackball” me too?

Mike: Uh…

Vicky: I didn’t think so. What are you gonna’ do now, Jaime?

Jaime: I’m asking Tom Rosen to dance.  

Vicky: Good for you.

Denise: [Horrified] Are you kidding? He’s…

Jaime: He’s what? Gorgeous? Smart? Interesting? Is that a problem, Dee?

Denise: No, it’s just that he’s not … popular.

Jaime: Thank God. I’ve had just about all the popularity I can fucking stand.

Valerie: Go for it, Jaime! Have a good time!

Jaime: I will. Thanks!

Jaime strides over to where Tom, Sal, and Brian are talking. Stands next to Tom, with her hands on her hips.

Jaime: Tom!

Tom: Yeah?

Jaime: You wanna’ dance?

Tom: Dance?

Jaime: Is there a fucking echo in here?

Tom: No echo. I’m just surprised.

Jaime: Why?

Tom: I guess I didn’t think you hung out with the lower orders.

Jaime: You’re hardly the lower orders, Tom.

Tom: No, I guess not. What about Carl?

Jaime: Do I need his goddamned permission?

Tom: Well, no, but, you guys are dating. I don’t think I should…

Jaime: Relax. He’s officially ixned.

Tom: Wow. So there have been … developments.

Jaime: Look, if you don’t wanna’ dance with me, just say so. I don’t need any fucking charity, OK?

Tom: [Getting up] No, no, it’s not like that at all. I’d love to dance with you, Jaime.

Jaime: Cool! [Grabs his arm and drags him off to the dance floor]

Sal: Now I’ve seen everything.

Brian: I know, right?  It’s better than the soaps on TV.

Sal: You watch soap operas?

Brian: Yeah, it’s kinda’ lame, but up until now, soaps were the raciest part of my day.

Sal: How about some more punch? I’m buying.

Brian: Alright!

Sal leaves for the drinks table. 

Cut to Tom and Jaime, who have joined Will, Chloe, Anna, Mitch, Marissa, and Lance, on the dance floor.

Jaime: I love dancing to metal.

Tom: Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for a metal head.

Jaime: I’m not. I just like dancing to it. It’s aggressive …sexy. [Raises her arms and throws her head back] 

Tom: [Watching her admiringly] It certainly is.

Jaime: So, tell me, do you drink?

Tom: [Holds up an empty glass of punch.] There are times.

Jaime: Smoke?

Tom: What? Cigarettes? No.

Jaime: Not cigarettes … weed.

Tom: There are times.

Jaime: Thank God. A normal person.

Tom:  Obviously, there’s a story I’ve missed.

Jaime: Yeah, a very boring story. Forget it.

Chloe: [Dancing over] Hey Jaime!  

Jaime: Hey.

Chloe: Where’s Carl?

Jaime: Don’t ask.

Chloe: Oh, sorry.

Jaime: No, it’s cool. We broke up.

Chloe:  When?

Jaime: Like, ten minutes ago.

Will: Sorry to hear that, Jaime.

Jaime: Don’t be. It’s like a terrible weight has been lifted.

Chloe: I wouldn’t have thought that dating a star football player would be a “terrible weight.”

Jaime: Yeah, well when the star football player’s a self-important jerk, it is.

Will: [Laughs] Sounds like it’s him I should be feeling sorry for.

Jaime: [Looking defiant] He just wants some ditzy groupie.  

Tom: You are definitely neither ditzy nor a groupie.

Lance and Marissa come over.

Lance: Who’s a ditzy groupie?

Tom: Not Jaime.

Lance: Who said she was?

Tom: Never mind.

Jaime: Let’s just drop the whole thing, OK? Carl’s out.  Finished. Kaput.

Lance: Who’s Carl?

Marissa: You don’t know Carl Smitts? New Ridgemont High’s finest athlete?

Lance: Sorry, I don’t follow sports.

Jaime: Yes! Another normal person.

Lance: [To Marissa] Did she just say I was normal?

Marissa: She did.

Lance: Can this party get any better? Lee’s gonna’ shit, when he hears this.

Marissa: Why?

Lance: ‘Cause he’s been lusting after her, ever since school started.

Jaime: Who’s Lee?

Lance: He’s, uh, one of us … you know.

Jaime: You mean a dweeb?

Lance looks crestfallen.

Marissa: You just can’t drop that Star Crew shit, can you?

Jaime: Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.

Tom: Well, I don’t think you have to worry about Lee.  He’s moved on.

Lance: To what? His other hand?

Tom: A little better than that. He’s dancing with Joanne Genduso.

Chloe: You’re kidding.

Tom: No, I’m not. Check it out. [Gestures over to the far right of the dance floor, where Lee and Joanne are dancing] 

Chloe: Wow.

Will: [Smiling] Well, that’s just fantastic, isn’t it?

Tom: You’ve definitely got something special going on here, Principal Friedman. No question about that.

Sean, Fran, and Marty enter the gym.

Sean: [Holds his arms out over his head.] AYOOOO!!!

Billy: [Over the PA] Sean Albertson, Fran Rosenberg, and Marty Savini are in the house!  

Sean: [Takes a deep bow.] Where’s my fucking request?!

Fran: Do you really have to scream like that?

Sean: Yeah, I do, actually.

Billy Idol’s “Mony Mony” comes over the PA.

Fran: Woohoo!

Sean: Now who’s screaming?

Fran: Shut up and dance, boy.

The three join Joanne, Lee, Kevin, and Stacy.

Kevin: Well, Lee, you’re one of the Heights Boys, now.  How does it feel?

Lee: Fucking great!

Joanne: You know that whole initiation thing was bullshit, right?

Lee: I had a feeling.

Joanne: So, why’d you do it?

Lee: Why the hell not?  It was fun!

Joanne: You’re cooler than you look.

Lee: [Shouting over at Mitch] You see?! They think I’m cool!

Joanne: I might take it back, if you keep that up.

Lee: Sorry. Enthusiasm got the best of me.

Will: [To Chloe] God, this brings back memories.

Chloe: Of your own high school?

Will: Yeah. Parties always ended with Mony Mony.

Chloe: I’d love to have known you then. What were you like?

Will: Pretty much the same…[laughs] better looking, though.

Chloe: Hmm. You sure about that?

Will: You’re good for a man’s ego.

Mitch: I hear that!

Chloe: Where’re Sal and Brian?

Tom: Back at our table.

Chloe: [Gimme a sec] Untangles herself from Will and disappears into the crowd. Returns, dragging a mortified-looking Brian. Sal follows, laughing]

Brian: You don’t want to do this, Chloe.

Chloe: Aw, c’mon!

Brian: But I liked it back at the table.

Tom: Not allowed. Everyone has to be here for the grand finale.

Lance: It’s not so hard, Brian. Check it out! [Busts a few choice moves]

Brian: I’ll need a chiropractor, if I do that.

Will: Brian, dance with Chloe, I need to make an announcement.

Brian: [Dazedly] Huh? What? Are you crazy?

Sal: That’s already been established.

Chloe: [Grabbing Brian, who looks like he’s going to faint.] Let’s boogie, baby!

Brian: [In a strangled voice] Okay.

Will pushes through the dancing crowds to the DJ booth.  

Billy: Dr. F!

Tim:  Yo, yo, yo!

Will: You guys have done an amazing job. Really. [Puts his hands together and bows] My deepest gratitude.  

Billy and Tim: Thanks!

Will: Is it cool if I take over for a second and make an announcement?

Billy: [Stepping away from the mic] Absolutely.

Tim: Go for it, Dr. F.

David: We’re gonna’ head back down to the dance floor. [Takes Laurie’s hand]

Laurie: See you guys down there!

Will: [Lowers the music and speaks over the PA] Can I have everyone’s attention for a moment?

The room goes quiet, although everyone keeps dancing.

Will: Well, I don’t know about you guys, but this is just about the best party I’ve ever been to!

The room erupts in cheering, hooting, and whistling.

Will: Now, we all know that there’s no party, without music, so let’s give it up for our DJs … Billy Johnson and Tim Goldstein!

The crowd roars. Billy and Tim bow and wave.

Will: And let’s not forget the occasion. To our new Student Body President and Vice President … Chloe Gold and Tom Rosen!

The students erupt again, with applause and shouts of “Chloe!” and “Tom!”

Will: Finally, I’m aware that this party has been especially … [looks over at Sal] … festive.  So, just to make sure everyone gets home safely, I’m paying for taxis. Those of you who drove here can pick up your cars tomorrow.

There is a moment of stunned silence and then the crowd roars, even louder.

Kevin: Fucking righteous! [To Stacy] He’s the coolest!

Stacy: Yeah, that’s crazy. Good crazy, but crazy.

Lee: I can’t believe it. He knew all along.

Joanne: Of course he did. The man isn’t stupid.

A chant of “Dr. F!  Dr. F!”  goes up. Will waves at the crowd and returns the Mic to Billy, who cranks the music back up.

Billy: Everyone back on the dance floor! Woohoo!!!

Will makes his way back down to the floor and to the group, who greet him with laughter, hugs, and claps on the back.

Chloe: [Puts her arms around Will’s neck.] You are the coolest, Dr. Friedman.

Will: [A broad smile on his face] Only ‘cause I’ve got cool people like you to hang out with, Miss Gold.

Lance: What’d he say? Who’s cool?

Mitch: We are, Lance. We are.

Lance: Woohoo!