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Help! I'm Trapped In a High School! is an American 3D computer-animated comedy film based on the play of the same name by Tim Kelly.

Taglines

  • A Super Hilarious Comedy Of The Summer!
  • From The Studio Who Brought You Open Season and The Smurfs!

Summary

Three 'Valley Girl' types and a male friend find themselves mistakenly transferred to a high school because of a 'computer mistake'. The school is Public School Maximum Security, commonly referred to as 'Last Chance High.' Students who are assigned there are incorrigible, tough and dangerous. Naturally, the pampered Valley types are horrified and attempt to transfer out but unfortunate for them, The principal is an egomaniac who runs the place like a jail. No visitors, harsh dress code, no leaving the premises- ever! The staff is made up of various madcap characters. A riot and breakout lead to the rousing finale.

Voice Cast

Emilia Clarke as Sally Armstrong

Drew Barrymore as Gwen Dawson

Sierra McCormick as Betty Diluth

Jake Short as Douglas Alexander

Ross Lynch as Anzac Caligary

Bella Thorne as Agnes Rasputin

Austin Mahone as Jaws

Dwayne Johnson as Mr.Bronco Ranchwear, the principal of Last Chance High.

Owen Wilson as Security Guard, a security guard who works for the school

as Mrs.Tadpole#1: a British male janitor who work for the school and is the husband of Mrs.Tadpole.

as Mrs.Tadpole#2: a British muscular lady janitor who work for the school and is the the wife of Mr. Tadpole.

as Evelina Culpepper, a secretary

as Mr.Beaumont, an educational surpervisor

as Fabiola Buena Vista, an investigative reporter

as Bag Lady, loves spaghetti pie

Maya Rudolph as Dr. Sigmunda Fraud, the school's psychiatrist

as Nina Nolan, a student teacher

Anna Faris as Lydia Colgate

as Isadora, a forgetful maid who works for Betty and her family.

Seth Rogen as Bobo Elliott, a fire drill instructor

as Dinosaur

as No Name

as Gumby

Solange Knowles as Ivy Vine

as Thelma Bayswater

as Queenie Tupperware

as Nurse

as Monica Diluth, the mother of Betty Diluth

as Bramwell Fishtank, a shady character

as Scout, a person who always of service

Quotes

  • Evelina Culpepper:We get all these food supplies and the cafeteria never serves anything but spaghetti pie.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:Serves Jello, too.

Evelina Culpepper:But the students don't like licorice Jello. These invoices list all sorts of good things to eat.

Suddenly, Ranchwear flashes anger as he leaps from his chair and begins to throttle Evelina.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:(shouted) What are you suggesting?! What are you driving at?! WHAT DO YOU MEEEEEEEEEEEAN?!

Immediately, he sits behind the desk, takes out a pill bottle and opens it. He takes off the top, taps out a pill and swallows. Evelina is gasping for air.

Evelina Culpepper:Auuuugh...ooooo...mmmmm...auuugh...

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:I don't like hysterics, Miss Culpepper.

Evelina Culpepper:Forgive me. It'll never happen again.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Perhaps you'd be happier somewhere else?

Evelina Culpepper: Oh no, sir! No! I need this job. No one else will hire a seventy year old secretary.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:You don't look seventy.

Evelina Culpepper:(flattered)Why, Mr. Ranchwear.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: You look eighty.

  • Douglas Alexander:What a dump!

Betty Diluth:It's BORRRRRING.

Sally Armstrong:Grungy.

Gwen Dawson:Awesome.

Sally Armstrong:Totally awesome.

A girl enters the room. She wears a short skirt, high heel shoes and a biker jacket. She has a wild hairstyle and dangling from one hand is a heavy chain. Others stare at her in near-disbelief. She then circles around them like a vulture.

Agnes Rasputin: Well, well, well. What have we here? (The Four teenagers exchange each other a nervous look)Hey, Anzac! Come look!

A male punk rocker came over to see what's up.

Anzac Caligary:So, i'm looking.

Agnes Rasputin:Anzac, you know what i think we've got here?

Anzac Caligary:Tourists.

Agnes Rasputin:Yeah, Tourists. From the Valley. Maybe we ought to sell them some protection insurance. Three Valley Girls and a friend.

Anzac Caligary: He's a nerd. i can tell. Nerds i step on. Nerds i squash.

Douglas Alexander:(shoves Anzac on the shoulder)Watch it, Gopher Breath.

Anzac Caligary: Why you! (shoves back)

Agnes Rasputin: (steps between Douglas and Anzac)Let me handle this, Anzac. I am the more diplomatic type. (Anzac steps back and Agnes is face to face with Douglas) What's your name, Popeye?

Betty Diluth: His name is not Popeye.

Sally Armstrong:His name is Douglas.

Gwen Dawson:Douglas Alexander.

Agnes Rasputin:(yells) So who's asking youse? (to Douglas) Get this straight Popeye, cuz i'm only going to say it once. Nobody calls my friend here Gopher Breath.You can call him Rat Mouth.

Betty/Sally.Gwen:Ugh!

Agnes Rasputin:You can call him Grease Trap.

Anzac Caligary: You can call me Peanut Brain or Pumpkin Head.

Agnes Rasputin:(in a threatening voice)But you can't call him Gopher Breath! Understand!

Betty Diluth:Deplorable!

Sally Armstrong:Vulgar!

Anzac Caligary: You can call me Vulgar if you want. Deplorable, too. I ain't sensitive.

Gwen Dawson:We can see that.

Betty Diluth: (to Douglas)Ignore them, Douglas. (to Agnes and Anzac)I'll have you know we're proud to be from the Valley.

Agnes Rasputin:A Valley Girl is a relic. Something from them prehistoric times. Like the mid-80's.

Anzac Caligary:Last year's Prom Queen used to be from the Valley.

Sally Armstrong:San Fernando Valley?

Anzac Caligary:No, Death Valley. She sure looked pretty on Prom night.

Betty Diluth:What did she wear?

Agnes Rasputin:Brass knuckles.

Script

Welcome, i guess you're wondering why we're all here. And to answer that is...the students.You got the good students and you got the bad students. You got the more bad students.

Security: Hey! What are you doing up here?! Get off the stage! You better hurry! Move!

Mr. Tadpole: Here we are again, Mrs. Tadpole. Mopping and cleaning, scrubbing and dusting.

Mrs. Tadpole: Why it's a living.

Mr.Tadpole: I ain't so sure.

Mrs.Tadpole: You can't fault the wages and there's always plenty of hot tea.

Mr.Tadpole: I like the wages and i like the tea. It's the students in this school i don't like. They scare me half to death.

Mrs. Tadpole:Aye. But... uh... What you would call it if you wouldn't call this high school a prison?

Mr.Tadpole: Well, i guess it's more like a city jail.

Mrs.Tadpole: Yes, that's it. City jail.

Mr.Tadpole: Well, it used to be a jail of some kind. They still have the old cell blocks.

Mrs.Tadpole: That's right. But they haven't been used for years.

Evelina Culpepper: Staff, have you seen Mr. Ranchwear?

Mr.Tadpole: No, Miss Culpepper.

Evelina Culpepper: Dear, oh dear.

Mr. Tadpole: Something the matter, Miss Culpepper?

Evelina Culpepper: New students that weren't expected. That's always the way at mid term. Problems, problems. If it isn't one thing, it's another.

Mr.Tadpole:Que sera, que sera.

Mrs. Tadpole: That's Welsh for "What will be, what will be."

Mr.Beaumont:(offscreen)Delighted to show you around, Miss Buena Vista.

Fabiola Buena Vista:(offscreen)Delighted to have you show me around, Mr. Beaumont.

Evelina Culpepper: I wonder who's that at? You can clean up in here later, Staff.

Mr. Tadpole: Not if them students is in here.

Evelina Culpepper: What difference does that make?

Mrs. Tadpole: It would be like entering a cage full of wild beasts.

Mr. Beaumont: I'm certain you'll find plenty to write about.

Evelina Culpepper: It's Mr.Beaumont, the district supervisor.

Beaumont enters from the left, with his arms wide to embrace the room.

Mr.Beaumont: And here, Miss Buena Vista, is the typical classroom at P.S.M.S. Isn't it grand?

Fabiola Buena Vista:P.S.M.S.?

Evelina Culpepper: Public School Maximum Security. But all the students call it "Last Chance High."

Fabiola Buena Vista:How droll.

Mr. Beaumont:This is Evelina Culpepper, Mr. Ranchwear's aged secretary. (to Evelina) This is Miss Fabiola Buena Vista, she's an important journalist who works for some Vapid Magazine. She's doing an article on P.S.M.S.

Fabiola Buena Vista:Isn't she droll. (To Evelina)May i borrow your pad and pencil. I never carry any. (To Beaumont)Clumsy things, pads and pencils. (Evelina hands over pad and pencil)

Mr. Beaumont: Miss Culpepper, please see if you can find Bronco.

Evelina Culpepper: Easier said that done. I've been looking.

Mr.Beaumont:(shouted) Look some more!

Evelina Culpepper: (scared)I hear that. (hurriedly exits to the left. Fabiola sits on a desk and writes)

Fabiola Buena Vista: "P.S.M.S. -- Public School Maximum Security--Last Chance High..."

Mr.Beaumont: You see. Miss Buena Vista, this is the end of the road for incorrigible students. one last chance. They've been kicked out of every school in the system.

Fabiola Buena Vista: (checks her manicure) Why?

Mr.Beaumont: You name it.

Fabiola Buena Vista: I'd rather you tell me.

Mr. Beaumont:Um...let's see... democracy Lack of discipline...failing grades due to absenteeism... (as Beaumont rattles off the offense, Security, a young man in the uniform of a prison guard, patrols in the passageway behind the bars. He carries a billy club. Fabiola writes)...never bringing a gym suit to Physical Education, repeated food fights. Using hubcaps from faculty cars for Frisbees. That sort of thing. They're a hard lot.

Douglas Alexander:What a dump!

Betty Diluth: It's BORRRRRING.

Sally Armstrong:Grungy.

Gwen Dawson:Awesome.

Sally Armstrong:Totally awesome.

A girl enters the room. She wears a short skirt, high heel shoes and a biker jacket. She has a wild hairstyle and dangling from one hand is a heavy chain. Others stare at her in near-disbelief. She then circles around them like a vulture.

Agnes Rasputin: Well, well, well. What have we here? (The Four teenagers exchange each other a nervous look)Hey, Anzac! Come look!

A male punk rocker came over to see what's up.

Anzac Caligary:So, i'm looking.

Agnes Rasputin:Anzac, you know what i think we've got here?

Anzac Caligary:Tourists.

Agnes Rasputin:Yeah, Tourists. From the Valley. Maybe we ought to sell them some protection insurance. Three Valley Girls and a friend.

Anzac Caligary: He's a nerd. i can tell. Nerds i step on. Nerds i squash.

Douglas Alexander:(shoves Anzac on the shoulder)Watch it, Gopher Breath.

Anzac Caligary: Why you! (shoves back)

Agnes Rasputin:(steps between Douglas and Anzac)Let me handle this, Anzac. I am the more diplomatic type. (Anzac steps back and Agnes is face to face with Douglas) What's your name, Popeye?

Betty Diluth: His name is not Popeye.

Sally Armstrong:His name is Douglas.

Gwen Dawson:Douglas Alexander.

Agnes Rasputin:(yells) So who's asking youse? (to Douglas) Get this straight Popeye, cuz i'm only going to say it once. Nobody calls my friend here Gopher Breath.You can call him Rat Mouth.

Betty/Sally.Gwen:Ugh!

Agnes Rasputin:You can call him Grease Trap.

Anzac Caligary: You can call me Peanut Brain or Pumpkin Head.

Agnes Rasputin:(in a threatening voice)But you can't call him Gopher Breath! Understand!

Betty Diluth: Like... totally Deplorable!

Sally Armstrong:Vulgar!

Anzac Caligary: You can call me Vulgar if you want. Deplorable, too. I ain't sensitive.

Gwen Dawson:We can see that.

Betty Diluth: (to Douglas)Ignore them, Douglas. (to Agnes and Anzac)I'll have you know we're proud to be from the Valley.

Agnes Rasputin:A Valley Girl is a relic. Something from the prehistoric times. Like the mid-80's.

Anzac Caligary: Last year's Prom Queen used to be from the Valley.

Sally Armstrong:San Fernando Valley?

Anzac Caligary: No, Death Valley. She sure looked pretty on Prom night.

Betty Diluth:What did she wear?

Agnes Rasputin:Brass knuckles.

Douglas Alexander:Who... are you two?

Agnes Rasputin:Rasputin. Agnes Rasputin.

Anzac Caligary:Anzac Caligary.

Gwen Dawson:Well Miss Rasputin and Mr. Caligary, we don't belong in this school.

Agnes Rasputin: If youse don't belong in here, how come that school folder says "transfer" (grabs the folder from Gwen's grip)

Gwen Dawson:Give that back!

Agnes Rasputin:When i'm ready.

Gwen Dawson:Give it back, i said!(attempts to retrieve the folder, but Agnes shoves her away)

Agnes Rasputin: Don't push your luck, princess.(shows folder to Anzac)See that, Anzac. See what's written on the front?

Anzac Caligary:You know i can't read unless it's printed in big block letters.

Betty Diluth:I'm not surprised.

Agnes flips open the folder, scans the contents.

Agnes Rasputin:Uh-huh...uh-huh...uh-huh... According to this here transfer, youse is being moved from San Fernando High to P.S.M.S.

Anzac Caligary: You must be real bad to land in this place. What did you do...steal a bottle of Diet Pepsi?

Douglas Alexander:It's obviously a computer mistake.

Anzac Caligary: (laughs)Hey look, Agnes... he's a computer mistake.

Agnes Rasputin:(laughs)

Gwen Dawson: If you don't mind. (grabs back the folder) That belongs to me.

Betty Diluth: Like Who's in charge here?

Sally Armstrong:Who's the principal?

Betty Diluth: We demand to know.

Agnes Rasputin: Hear that, Anzac? They want to meet the principal.

Anzac Caligary: Ranchwear himself. Ha ha. They've got a surprise coming!

Gwen Dawson:We're wasting our time talking to these idiots.

Agnes Rasputin: Hey, are you calling me and Anzac idiots?

Betty Diluth: She didn't mean you two.

Anzac Caligary: Then who did she mean?

Betty Diluth: Give me a moment and i'll think of someone.

Agnes Rasputin:(grabs her chain; to Gwen)How would you like me to iron your hair?

Betty Diluth: It was only a little joke.

Gwen Dawson: Yeah...like Don't you have a sense of humor?

Agnes Rasputin; If you ask me Anzac, we're talking to a quartet of morons.

Anzac Caligary: I'll waste Douglas. You total the princess.

Agnes Rasputin:Just me and my chain. I like the odds.

Gwen Dawson: (screams)They want to fight!

Anzac makes a grab for Douglas who uses the surfboard like a shield, Agnes makes a grab for Gwen.

Betty Diluth: (shouted) Stop, stop!

Sally Armstrong: (screams)Stop! Oh! Help! Help!

Evelina enters the room and sees what's going on.

Evelina Culpepper: (screams)Stop it. Stop it at once! Security! Security! (takes out a whistle and pipes an alarm)

Gwen and Agnes are shoving at each other. Same for Douglas and Anzac. Betty and Sally huddle together in fear. Then, Security runs in.

Security: (shouted)Break it up! Break it up! (no luck) It's me or Mr. Ranchwear!

On hearing the name "Ranchwear", both Agnes and Anzac stop fighting

Evelina Culpepper:Tsk, tsk. Mr.Ranchwear would be so disappointed in you both. Aren't you ashamed?

Agnes and Anzac gets on their knees and begged for mercy.

Agnes Rasputin:Please don't tell him!

Anzac Caligary:We'll be good. Honest.

Security:You know the rules. No chains during school hours. Hand it over, Rasputin.(Reluctantly, Agnes hands over the chain to him) Now the both of y'all, get out there and hit the lunchroom.

Anzac Caligary:What's on the menu?

Security:Spaghetti pie.

Agnes Rasputin:We had that yesterday.

Security:And you'll probably have it again tomorrow. I said MOVE!

Agnes and Anzac ran out of the room.

Gwen Dawson:It wasn't our fault.

Security:I hear that at least a million times a day.

Douglas Alexander:Gwen's telling the truth.

Sally Armstrong:The total truth.

Security:Truth? Ha! No one in this asylum knows how to spell it.

Sally Armstrong:I can. "I" "T". It!

Security: (mutters) Another comic. (left the room)

Betty Diluth (to Evelina) Do you teach here?

Evelina Culpepper: No, i'm the school's secretary. Miss Culpepper. (sees the folders in the teenagers' hands) What's all this?

Douglas Alexander:Transfers.

Evelina Culpepper:Ah. I understand. You're the mid-term students. I've been expecting you.

Douglas Alexander:Ma'am, It's some kind of computer mistake.

Gwen Dawson: Yeah, like a bug in the system.

Betty Diluth:(distressed) I belong to the Honor Society. I don't belong here.

Sally Armstrong:Yeah, I only hope one of our friends hear about this.

Gwen Dawson:It's so humiliating.

Douglas Alexander:Who do we see to straighten this out?

Evelina Culpepper:If what you say is true... about the mistake...

Sally Armstrong:It's true.We wouldn't lie.

Evelina Culpepper: In that case, Mr.Ranchwear is the man to see.

Douglas Alexander:The principal?

Betty Diluth: Where do we find Mr. Ranchwear?

A sound of a whistle was heard from the hallway

Evelina Culpepper: It appears he's found you.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:Did i hear a disturbance from this classroom, Staff?

Evelina Culpepper:A minor incident, Mr. Ranchwear. Agnes Rasputin and Anzac Caligary. Security has everything under control.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear: Good.

Douglas Alexander:Uh sir, there's been a mistake.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:I don't seem to recognize this young man. What's that?

Douglas Alexander:A surfboard, sir.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: (sternly)We don't allow surfboards at P.S.M.S., you hear! (shouts) NO SURFBOARDS! (sees the girls)I don't seem to recognize them, either.

Evelina Culpepper:No, Mr.Ranchwear. You wouldn't.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:This isn't visiting day.

Students:Visiting day?

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:Who are these young people?

Evelina Culpepper:(Taps folder)Transfer students.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: (His voice is so powerful, all take a step back) Why wasn't i informed?

Evelina Culpepper:I've been trying to tell you all morning.

Betty Diluth:We're not really transfer students.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear: Oh?

Gwen Dawson:It's a computer mistake.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear: Oh?

Sally Armstrong:Yeah, like a bug in the system.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear: Oh?

Douglas Alexander:You'll have to sign a release, sir. Otherwise, they won't let us back in our old school. San Fernando Valley High.

Students: Go Valley!

Evelina Culpepper: Wasn't that lovely, Mr. Ranchwear.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: It Stank.

Students: (offended) Oh. (Afterthought) Sorry.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: All of you sit down! (the four are so intimidated that they just stand there, staring at him) Didn't you hear me?! Ah, forgive me. You're new here. You don't understand the rules. When i speak, students obey. They don't think about obeying. They do it without thinking. A student who doesn't think is a good student. COMPRENDE? (students nod) Good. Now, I'll say the words one more time. Listen carefully... concentrate. (yells) SIT DOWN!!! (Horrified, the students sit, afraid to move or speak) Staff.

Evelina Culpepper: Sir?

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: Put those transfers on my desk.

Evelina Culpepper:Yes, sir. Right away, sir.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: (shouted)MOVE IT! (Miss Culpepper races from the room at a fast trot. Ranchwear parades back and forth) I've never seen such a sorry bunch of losers. But i'll break you so i can rebuild you. You came to my school as losers, but you'll leave with a diploma. Memorize the school motto- "Mediocrity is better than nothing."

Douglas Alexander:But, Mr. Ranchwear, sir.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:(snarls)Yes?

Douglas Alexander:We're not Last Chance material. We've never done anything to deserve this.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:Get this straight and get it straight, all of you! THE SYSTEM WORKS! You are transfer students! The computer DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES! THERE IS NO BUG IN THE SYSTEM UNLESS YOU ARE THE BUG! You've been transferred here and this is where you stay! (Bellows) SECURITY!

Betty stands up.

Betty Diluth: I'd like to call my mother, please. She's probably worried about us.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:All of you?

Gwen Dawson:Sally and I are staying at Betty's house. Our parents are going on a cruise to Bermuda.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:(Snide, mimicking Gwen's tone)Our parents are going on a cruise to Bermuda. (to Douglas) You. Surf's Up!

Douglas stand, petrified.

Douglas Alexander:Me, sir? I mean "I"

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:(Snide) I suppose you're staying at "Betty's"?

Douglas Alexander:No, sir.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:(Even snider) Your parents on a "cruise to Bermuda"?

Douglas Alexander:No, sir.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:Good.

Douglas Alexander:They're on a cruise to the Orient. Uh... I can take care of myself though. I-I've got a microwave.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:Spoiled young puppies. That's what you are.

Students: Puppies?

Security enters

Security: Sir?

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: Take these cut-ups down to the cafeteria.

Security:Yes sir!

Sally Armstrong:Uh, we're not hungry, thank you just the same.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:(walks up to Sally)When it's lunchtime, (screams in Sally's face) YOU EAT!

Sally Armstrong:Perhaps i could manage a bite.

Security takes out a whistle and gives a blast

Security: LINE UP!(like members of a chain gang, the students line up) Left foot, right foot. Move out.

Students: LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT.

Security: (shouted)And no talking!

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: (shouted)You will enjoy the spaghetti pie! That's an order! AND GET RID OF THAT SURFBOARD! (left the room)

Meanwhile, outside the school, a lady, wearing a teepee of rags, tries to panhandle random strangers who are are walking past her.

Bag Lady: Hey mister, you got a quarter... a dime... a nickel? Cheapskate! (spots someone else as she moves along) Hey lady, i need a dollar. I got to buy my cat some Friskies. He hadn't ate in a week... come to think of it... i ain't either... Hey you, i need an operation... i need bus fare... COME ON PEOPLE, I NEED SOMETHING! What's that sign? Public School Maximum Security... Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here. (sniffs) I smell spaghetti pie. My favorite. I wanna see if i could get a free handout. (sings) O bury me not on the lone prairie
Where coyotes howl and the wind blows free.

Meanwhile, back inside the school, Mr. Beaumont enters the classroom with Fabiola. She is still taking notes.

Mr. Beaumont: The school, of course, is still in its experimental stage. Actually, i'm the one who thought it up. It's my baby.

Fabiola Buena Vista: It's a drool concept.

Mr.Beaumont: Feel free to mention my name in your article.

Fabiola Buena Vista : I'll try to squeeze you in.

The school psychiatrist, Sigmunda Fraud, enters. She's a kooky African American lady who is wearing a white smock, enormous glassed and is continually swatting at the air with a fly swatter.

Mr.Beaumont: Ah, look who's here. Our school psychiatrist. Sigunda Fraud.

Fabiola Buena Vista: Unusual name.

Mr.Beaumont: Unusual lady. (calls over) Hello, Sigmunda.

Dr. Sigmunda Fraud: (still swatting the air) Gnats, flies, bugs, mosquitoes. They won't leave me alone. Nasty things. (to the "flying things") Get away...shoo...

Fabiola Buena Vista: Perhaps it's the perfume you're wearing.

Dr. Sigmunda Fraud: I don't wear perfume.

Fabiola Buena Vista: Maybe you should.

Mr.Beaumont: Dr. Fruad, this is Fabiola Buena Vista. She's writing an article about P.S.M.S.

Dr. Sigmunda Fraud:(Frantic) Is that wise Mr.Beaumont? The students here are responsive to publicity. They like publicity. They'll do anything to get it. When they get publicity, they want more. Less would be better. They must accept the world the way it is, not the way they fantasize it.(walks away, still fighting off the "flying things")

Mr. Beaumont:Did you understand that, Miss Buena Vista?

Fabiola Buena Vista:Not a word.

Dr. Sigmunda Fruad:Get away... why won't they get away... why won't they leave me alone... Nasty bugs... (walks out of the room)

Mr. Beaumont:Isn't she unique?

Fabiola Buena Vista:She's stark raving mad.

Mr.Beaumont:(casually) Do you really think so? Would you like to see the gymnasium? All our students lift weights.

Fabiola Buena Vista:I imagine they lift anything they can get their hands on.

Mr. Beaumont:This way. guides Fabiola off

Ranchwear enters his office, sits behind his desk and opens the transfer folders. As Ranchwear reads, Evelina enters the office with a clipboard

Evelina Culpepper:Mr. Ranchwear?

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear: What is it, Staff?

Evelina Culpepper:(giggles) I just love it when you call me "staff". Ranchwear turns his head towards her with a sour look on his face Forgive me. I'll never giggle again.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear: Promises, promises.

Evelina Culpepper:Some wicked student has spray canned a slogan over the wall.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:You mean- Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here?

Evelina Culpepper:You've seen it.

Mr. Broncho Ranchwear:Seen it? I did it. Is that what you wanted to see me about?

Evelina Culpepper:No.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:(shouted)REPORT IN!

Evelina Culpepper:AUUUUGH! (recovers but started crying) Mr. Ranchwear, i wish you wouldn't bark like that. You make me so nervous.

Mr.Broncho Ranchwear:If you're nervous, see Dr.Fraud.

Evelina Culpepper:I'm not that nervous. (to the audience) Nobody's that nervous.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:What is it then?

Evelina Culpepper:Food supplies, sir. You'll have to sign the invoice.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Give me a pen.

Evelina Culpepper:I don't have one. That Fabiola Buena Vista took it and never gave it back.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:She's going to make me famous.

Evelina Culpepper:You know what they say. Fame is the name of the game.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:I've got to do something truly spectacular. Something that will make the education world stand up and take notice.

Evelina Culpepper:How are you going to do that?

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:I'll think of something.

Evelina Culpepper:The invoice.

Mr Bronco Ranchwear:(Produce his own pen, signs the invoice and returns the clipboard) I'd hang on to that autograph. Might be worth money someday. Washington, Lincoln, Ranchwear.

Evelina Culpepper:I've been meaning to speak to you for some time, sir. It's rather important.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Yeah?

We get all these food supplies and the cafeteria never serve anything but spaghetti pie.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Serves Jello, too.

Evelina Culpepper:But the students don't like licorice Jello. These invoices list all sorts of good things to eat.

Suddenly, Ranchwear flashes anger. He leaps from his chair and begins to throttle Evelina.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:(shouted) What are you suggesting?! What are you driving at?! WHAT DO YOU MEEEEEEEEEEEAN?!

Immediately, he gets control of himself. Ranchwear sits behind the desk, takes out a pill bottle and opens it. He takes off the top, taps out a pill and swallows. Evelina is gasping for air.

Evelina Culpepper: Auuuugh...ooooo...mmmmm...auuugh...

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:I don't like hysterics, Miss Culpepper.

Evelina Culpepper: I'm sorry, sir. It'll never happen again.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Perhaps you'd be happier somewhere else?

Evelina Culpepper: Oh no, sir! No! I need this job. No one else will hire a seventy year old secretary.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: Why Miss Culpepper, You don't look seventy.

Evelina Culpepper:(flattered)Why, Mr. Ranchwear.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: You look eighty.

Evelina Culpepper:I almost forgot. Those student teachers are here.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Good, We need staff. Show them in.

Evelina Culpepper:Yes sir. (left the office)

Meanwhile, The Bag Lady, pushing the shopping cart, appears in a passageway. She is sniffing the air, trying to track down the spaghetti pie. She crosses up right and out, As she exists, two girls, each about 18, enter the office. Dressed in a conservative yet pretty fashion. They are: Nina Nolan and Lydia Colgate. Ranchwear stands.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:New personnel. Excellent. Names?

Nina Nolan:(extending a hand) How do you do, Mr. Ranchwear.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:(Ignores hand) I know my name. What's yours?

Nina Nolan:Nina, sir. Nina Nolan.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Nolan, Nina. Sit. (he indicates the visitors's chair, Nina sits. He turns to Lydia) Name?

Lydia Colgate:Lydia Colgate.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: Colgate, Lydia. Sit. (indicated chair behind desk. Lydia sits. He gives them a critical eye)I requested "tough" student teachers. I thought they'd send me some macho types.

Nina Nolan:We're here to learn as much as teach, Mr. Ranchwear.

Lydia Colgate:There's been a computer error. We were supposed to be assigned to the Valley.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:(in a rage) The Valley! The Valley! How i hate the Valley! (calms down) And i'm sick of hearing about computers making mistakes.

Nina Nolan:Last semester, the computer went completely haywire and student teachers ended up in northern Mexico.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:Get this straight, Staff.

Lydia Colgate: Staff?

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: The faculty here is referred to as "staff". My idea. The janitors are 'staff", the kitchen help is "staff". Staff, staff, staff. You have been assigned here and my advice os make the best of it. You have to pass this course in student teaching if you expect to get your credentials. Don't pull any college nonsense here. You know this school's reputation. It's tough. I want my staff tough. Tough, tough, tough! This school does not boogie and this school does not rock. If a student gets out of line-(slaps the swagger stick on the desk , causing Lydia to jumps and scream)CRUSH HIM! (to Lydia) What's the matter with you, Colgate?

Lydia Colgate: You frightened me.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:You'll get used to it. checks his watch Thirteen hundred hours. Lunch break is over. Time for ABC's. I want you to meet Bobo Elliot. He'll be your supervisor. (leaves the room. Lydia and Nina look at one another in bewilderment)

Nina Nolan:What have we gotten ourselves into?

Lydia Colgate: I think i'll change my major. I've always been interested in modern dance.

Nina Nolan:Don't be foolish, Lydia. He's only trying to frighten us. He's furious because we're women. We won't let him defeat us. W will force him to give us good grades.

Lydia Colgate:I could almost believe you.

Nina Nolan:So could i. stands up He leads. We follow.

Nina and Lydia left the office and Bag Lady enters, followed by Mr. Tadpole and Mrs. Tadpole.

Mr.Tadpole: You're not supposed to be in here.

Bag Lady: How would you know?

Mrs.Tadpole: Because you don't look like a student and you don't look like a staff.

Mr.Tadpole: I've half a mind to call security.

Bag Lady: Half a mind is probably all you've got.

Mr. Tadpole:Ah! Your mother!

Mrs. Tadpole: Out! Rubbish!

Head high, Bag Lady exists the room.

Bag Lady: Foreigners!

Mr. Tadpole: Bag Lady!

Mrs. Tadpole:Wicked Bag Lady!

Fabiola Buena Vista:I'd like a word.

Mr. Tadpole:With us?

Fabiola Buena Vista:Yes.

Mrs. Tadpole:What about?

Fabiola Buena Vista:First of all, how about giving me your names.

Mr. Tadpole:I don't see no harm. I'm Mrs.Tadpole.

Fabiola Buena Vista:Mr. Tadpole... And you?

Mrs. Tadpole:I'm Mrs. Tadpole.

Fabiola Buena Vista:You two aren't from around here, are you?

Mr. Tadpole:However did you guess?

Mrs. Tadpole:Aye,It's been over a year for us. They can't get anyone to work for this crap hole. We work (air thrusted)cheap.

Mr. Tadpole:That's right. As soon as this semester is finished, i'm outta this place and good riddance to P.S.M.S. I'm going back to Europe and take up the old hobby...River dance.

Fabiola Buena Vista:You take a dim view of this school experiment?

Mr. Tadpole:Not a school, dear. It's more like a zoo.

Mrs. Tadpole nods.

Fabiola Buena Vista:Do you spell zoo with one "O" or three?

Mr. Tadpole:Two "Z's" but three "O's".

Fabiola Buena Vista:Um, Which way is the cafeteria?

Mrs. Tadpole:Eh,Just hold your nose dearie. No, i mean follow it. You'll hold it when you get there.

Fabiola Buena Vista:Droll. Very droll.

Mrs. Tadpole:(screams) SHUT UP!

Security: Psssssst. Ranchwear.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:Staff?

Security:(checks invoice) Two gross red pencils. Three gross green pencils. Five gross lead pencils. You want to hear more?

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:Later. Give me hat.

Security:You got it.

a faculty member, Bobo Elliot, enters left. Bobo wears a track suit and a baseball cap. As he ran into the room, he trip and fell.Bobo gets up and dusted himself off then stands next to Ranchwear. They crossed their arms before beginning to head bob. Security exists and Mr. Tadpole is dancing down the passageway with a broom in his hand. As soon as the music stops, he looks at them for a second before quickly walk away. Bobo and Ranchwear face each other and did a secret handshake before acting like nothing happened.

Bobo Elliot:Afternoon, chief.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:Oh Bobo, There you are.Ready for class?

Bobo Elliot:Yeah, but i forget what it is i'm supposed to teach.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:Don't worry. You'll think of something. Why are you wearing a track suit? We don't have a running track.

Bobo Elliot:I run on the roof.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:You could fall off.

Bobo Elliot:I have.(he and Ranchwear did a dab)

Nina and Lydia enters from the left.

Nina Nolan:So, this is the classroom?

Lydia Colgate:It looks more like a prison cell.

Bobo Elliot: (worried)Don't say that word. Mr.Ranchwear doesn't like that word.

Nina Nolan:What word?

Bobo Elliot:Prison. (realizing what he said, he slaps his hand over his mouth) Ooooooooooh.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Prison. Prison! It's not a prison. It's a high school, a high school. Comprende?!

Bobo Elliot:Right, chief. (salutes)

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Bobo, these are two new student teachers. They'll be with us for a while.

Bobo Elliot:Swell. Nice to meet you. (about to take Nina's hand, Ranchwear slaps down his swagger stick on Bobo's wrist)

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: You know i don't allow familiarity between staff members.

Bobo Elliot:I forgot.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Next time you'll remember.

Nina Nolan:Heavens, Mr.Ranchwear. He was only trying to be friendly.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:When i want your opinion, Staff, i'll give it to you.

Someone: (offscreen)And now the severe beating of a high school science teacher!

Nina Nolan:Goodness, Mr.Elliot, id he hurt you?

Bobo Elliot:Naw.(nothing hurts me. begins to dance like a punch drunk boxer, tossing jabs) Don't let this baseball cap fool you. I used to be a boxer.

Lydia Colgagte:You mean a prizefighter?

Bobo Elliot:Yeah. only i never won any prizes. Call me Bobo. Everybody does.

Nina Nolan:Uh, what do you teach, Bobo?

Bobo Elliot:I used to teach Bathtub Singing, but no one was interested. Then, i taught Fire Drill.After that, i taught Car Wash.

Lydia Colgate:Bathtub Singing, Fire Drill, Car Wash?

Nina Nolan:I never heard of such a curriculum.

Bobo Elliot:What's that?

Lydia Colgate:What's what?

Bobo Elliot:What she just said.

Nina Nolan:Curriculum?

Bobo Elliot:Yeah.

Lydia Colgate:You mean to tell me you don't know the meaning of the word "curriculum"?

Bobo Elliot:No, but i know the meaning of the word "trouble"! And here it comes! Take cover!

As soon as Bobo says trouble, we hear a loud roar from students who are galloping for the classroom, from left and right. Bobo scurries behind his desk and ducks from sight. Lydia and Nina cling to one another for protection as the P.S.M.S. students thunder in, yelling, libbing, climbing over the chairs and falling into place. The students are dressed in a variety of clothing- Leather jackets, tank tops, short skirts, punk hairstyles. Some wear Levi's, some wear slam dance outfits.

Dinosaur:I'm thinking about breaking out.

Queenie:With what zits?

Others:(laughs)

Jaws:Somebody swiped my Mars candy bar.

No Name:Is that the one you swiped from me? I wasn't finished with it.

Bobo Elliot:Students...

Gumby:Anyone wanna buy a tape deck?

Ivy Vine:Is that my tape deck? Thief!

Students: Thief! Thief! (laughs)

Thelma Bayswater: Did you get a load of those Valley kids in the cafeteria?

Ivy Vine:(mimicking Valley Girl talk) Gag me with a spoon.

Others: (laughs)

Bobo Elliot:Students...

Queenie Tupperware:Like they say in the stockyards...lambs to the slaughter. (laughs)

Bobo Elliot:Could i have your attention...please?

What's up, coach!

Students:WOOO! (laughs)

Bobo Elliot:If you don't behave, i'll have to get Mr. Ranchwear.

Bobo Elliot:That's better. See, you can be good students and good citizens when you want to be.

Class:Yes, Mr.Elliot. Thank you, Mr. Elliot.

Bobo Elliot:Alright, class.We have two student teachers with us today. So, i want you be on your best behavior.

Nina Nolan:I'm Miss Nolan and this is...

Lydia Colgate: Miss Colgate. We're happy to be here, even if it was the computer's fault. To tell the truth, i'm more interested in modern dance than i am in education.

Jaws:Well guess what...NOBODY CARES!

Lydia Colgate:(whispers to Nina) I get the feeling they don't like us.

Nina Nolan:Ssssssh.

Bobo Elliot:I'll take attendance. (gets record book, flips open to some page. Quickly he reads out a student's name and, as soon as he does, the student stands, responds, and immediately sits)Dinosaur.

Dinosaur:Present!

Bobo Elliot:Jaws

Jaws:Present!

Bobo Elliot:No Name.

No Name:Yo!

Bobo Elliot:Gumby.

Gumby:On the nickel!

Bobo Elliot:Ivy Vine.

Ivy Vine:Present!

Bobo Elliot:Thelma Bayswater.

Thelma Bayswater:Like always!

Bobo Elliot: Queenie Tupperware.

Queenie Tupperware:Present, Mr.Elliot.

Bobo Elliot:Anzac.

Anzac Caligary: Wooo! You got me coach! (he and Bobo chest bumped each other)

Bobo Elliot:Anguish Raspy.

Agnes Rasputin: (shouted)That's "Agnes". Agnes Rasputin.

Students: (laughs)

Bobo Elliot:Today's lesson is...uh...uh...

Dinosaur:Bathtub singing...?

Bobo Elliot:No.

Ivy Vine:Car wash...?

Bobo Elliot:Wait a minute. It'll come to me.

Nina Nolan: (whispers to Lydia)Do you think the Board of Education knows about this?

Lydia Colgate:(whispers to Nina)This could never never happen in the Valley.

Bobo Elliot:I remember.

Dinosaur:Alright, Give yourself a gold star, Bobo.

Bobo Elliot:(to audience) I get no respect. (to class) Art Appreciation. I'm supposed to teach Art Appreciation.

Lydia Colgate:This ought to be good.

Bobo Elliot:So, get with it.

Nina Nolan:I don't believe this.

Bobo Elliot:Ivy will pass out the crayolas...uh...markers.

Bobo Elliot:Pay attention, class. I'm going to ask a question. (pulls out a large, framed painting from behind the desk) Who painted this?

Queenie Tupperware: Don't look at me. I'm not taking the rap for that. You won't pin that on me!

Thelma Bayswater: Hey, look, guys. That picture was framed!

Students: (laughs)

Lydia Colgate:Excuce me, Bobo... I mean "Mr. Elliot". You're holding the picture upside down.

Agnes Rasputin:Looks better that way!

Students: (laughs)

No Name:Yo, Mr.Elliot, who is the painter?

Bobo Elliot:Well, I think this is a painting by Pablum Picasso.

Nina/Lydia:Pablum?

Nina Nolan:No, no, Bobo. I mean "Mr. Elliot". Not Pablum...Pablo.

Bobo Elliot: Well, Maybe it's by Stevedore Dooley.

Lydia Colgate: Salvador Dali!

Queenie Tupperware:It's probably signed. Check it out, Bozo.

Bobo Elliot:Good idea. (turns the frame right-side up, checks the signature) I found it.

No Name:Give yourself a box of ceegars.

Bobo Elliot:Toulouse-Lautrec.

Thelma Bayswater: Well, that's a stupid name.

Gumby:How do you spell it?

Others: "I" "T". (Laughs)

Bobo Elliot:Pay attention and learn something.

Jaws:That'll be a novelty.

Bobo steps to the blackboard, picks up a piece of chalk and in Big/Bold letters spells out the name.

Bobo Elliot: Toulouse-Lautrec. (writes in large letters) Capital "T" (as he writes, he speaks the letter) "T"-o...capital "L"-o-s-e-a... Capital "T" again...ruck.

Nina/Lydia: TO LOSE A TRUCK?

Bobo Elliot: puts down chalk Now, who can tell me the primary colors?

Dinosaur: That's easy.

Gumby: BLACK AND BLUE!

Students: laughs

Bobo suddenly suffers a spell of punch-drunk. In his boxing stance, he bounces about the room, sparring with an imaginary partner. The Students applaud.

Anzac Caligary: Atta boy, Bobo!

Jaws: You can go six rounds!

Ivy Vine: At least!

No Name: Jab 'im in the ribs!

Bobo stops abruptly, takes out a whistle and gives it a loud blast

Who's for a fire drill?

A cheer goes up and the students thunder out, left and right... practically trampling Nina and Lydia.

Nina Nolan: Oh! Oh!

Lydia Colgate: Careful, be careful!

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: There's been some changes made at P.S.M.S. I've been too soft. It's my nature.

Students: Soft?

Nina Nolan: What kind of changes, Mr.Ranchwear?

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear:I'm putting in a dress code.

Students: Ugh. Not that.

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: A new discipline code, as well.

Queenie Tupperware:What kind?

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: Look up the meaning of the word..."severe".

Students: Ugh. Not that.

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: Here's the best part. Students will remain at P.S.M.S. until the end of the semester! No going home not even on weekends. Last Chance high is where you stay...day and night! Locked up!

Students: (screams) LOCKED UP!

Mr.Bronco Ranchwear: To the max!

Betty Diluth: Locked up? Why, Mr. Ranchwear, why?

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: It'll guarantee 100% attendance.

Agnes Rasputin: What about Visitor's Day?

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: There won't be any Visitor's Day because there won't be any visitors.

Students: shouted) NOOOOO VISITOOOOOOORS?!

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear: (to the audience) You! What do you think this is... a free ride? Go outside! It's intermission! You got 10 minutes!Let's go!

Agnes Rasputin: NO MORE DETENTION!

Security: Fun's over, wimps! You lose!

Mr. Bronco Ranchwear:Is everything under under, Security?

Security:Yes sir!

Security: You heard the man, LINE UP! YOU, YOU ,YOU AND YOU! MOVE!

Students:LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT, RIGHT!

Security:(shouted)AND NO TALKING!

Betty Diluth: Whoever heard of a breakout at a public high school? We never should have agreed.

GwenWell, at least we did something other than complaining all the time.

Betty Diluth:I suppose your right.( to Douglas, who doesn't look too good)Douglas, why won't you think of something?

Douglas Alexander: (sits)I'm too tired too think.

Betty Diluth:Douglas, you don't look so good.

Douglas Alexander:I can't eat...can't sleep... I've got bad thoughts of my hair.

Sally Armstrong:I'm so tired!I'm tired and i'm hungry and i need a vacation but i can't go anywhere!

Douglas Alexander:Uh... i feel like a teenaged zombie!

Betty Diluth: It's a wonder the entire student body hasn't broken down. Stress, tension, Spaghetti loaf, spaghetti pie, spaghetti soup.

Gwen Don't forget spaghetti cake?

Douglas Alexander:Oh God, who can forget spaghetti cake!

Sally Armstrong:I don't know how much longer i can take this. I'm cracking up like a walnut on Thanksgiving. (wraps her arms around her knees)

Uh, er, Betty? Betty, where are you going? Sally, Gwen, Douglass... No, wait. Stop. Betty? How do i get out of this awful? This way. No, that way. I'm so confused. Help! Help! Anybody out there?! Hello? This is no way to treat a parent. Help! I'm trapped. Help!

You got some kind of problem, lady?

I need help.

Sit down. I'll get you something.

An aspirin?

No, spaghetti sandwich.

There's nothing the matter with me...I'm perfect just the way i am...perfect...perfect...

Who...who are you...?

Ranchwear: Can't you tell? I'm the school principal. (leaves the room)

Mrs. Diluth: School principal? I'm having a nervous breakdown. That's what it is. Besides, whoever heard of a spaghetti sandwich? It's all an illusion.

Bobo Elliot: FIRE DRILL...EVERYONE OUT INTO THE PARKING LOT...FIRE DRILL...LET'S GO...FIRE DRILL...

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