Previously on Dawson's Creek
Jen's a cheerleader?
And Jack's on the football team?
I got sane and everybody else went crazy?
Who are you, Eve?
First you're this stunning passenger on my bus,
and then you're wearing a wig, serving cocktails
in a strip club, now you're a senior at my high school.
You slept with him?
Pacey, it was the biggest mistake of my life,
and all I keep thinking about right now
is what if you can't forgive me?
So, we're friends,
and then we're a couple,
friends again,
so what are we now?
We're Dawson and Joey.
Hey.
This isn't...
Working out exactly the way I planned.
Um... the whole point of us spending normal time together
was to actually talk and get to know each other.
And then can we have sex?
I'm not ruling that out, I'm just--
You know...
First things first.
Movie night we're supposed to watch movies.
I prefer TV.
You've got to be kidding.
Actually, no.
But...movies are an art form.
This is just the pabulum they stick between beer commercials.
Don't be such a snob, Dawson.
I mean, a TV show is just like a movie
except shorter...
With built-in bathroom breaks,
and you get a new sequel every week.
Sequels I hate on principle.
Suit yourself. I'm hooked.
When you read my paper, how bad was it?
It wasn't bad.
Oh...
All right, you know what?
Take Felicity, for example.
Aw, come on, if you've seen one hour
of whiny, overanalytical teen angst, you've seen them all.
Don't get me wrong. She's pretty,
but what kind of a heroine is she?
Well, she's-- she's indecisive.
She's basically...paralyzed by some romantic notion
of the way things are supposed to be.
If you ask me, she's kind of chatty.
She's you.
Excuse me?
She's you, Dawson.
Except she's in college
and a girl and...
A fictional character on a television show.
Exactly. Think about it.
You're straight out of central casting.
Perfect hair, perfect skin--
Our hero.
Well, obviously you weren't watching last season.
It was far from perfect.
You know, which is, in general, my complaint about television.
It's not reality, it's perfection.
I mean, nobody ever blows it or gets tested in any real way
or ever makes the wrong choice or bad choice or...
Don't you know that's where I come in?
You know, second season, shake things up.
Screw the status quo.
Ah, a temptress...
Who will test our hero's very moral fiber.
Will he survive unscathed?
Stay tuned.
You know what else I hate about television?
They always cut to commercial at the best part.
Dawson.
Dawson!
Good morning. It's 6:45, and it's 65 degrees...
Another glorious day on the cape.
Coming up next, as millions of teens around the country
cram for this weekend's exam,
we'll talk with John Katzman,
author of the best-selling Cracking the PSAT.
One step ahead of you, baby.
For your collegebound teenager in this most competitive year ever.
Competitive, ha!
Try this on for size.
Dogmatic. Synonyms: Single-minded,
stubborn, obdurate, adamant.
Antonyms would be...
Wishy-washy, ambivalent,
um...equivocal.
What, you thought that Dawson was the only one
with such a prolific vocabulary?
No, I just didn't think we really had to study
with our newfound extracurricular activities.
Easy, tiger. You haven't won that football scholarship yet.
Ok, your turn. Pick a card, any card.
Nonchalant. Ok.
The synonyms would be...
Carefree, languid...
Oblivious.
Ok, good. Now antonyms. Mr. Leery.
Alert, attentive, concerned.
That is, provided you believe
that the PSAT is a true measure of intelligence
and not a culturally- biased weapon
against the poor and disenfranchised.
That's a good point, Dawson.
Standardized testing isn't perfect.
In fact, some might say that it's designed
to trip you up... Mess with your mind,
generally convince you that you're not as smart as you think you are.
But if you want to go to college,
it's the only game in town.
All right, hang on, hang on. Now, look, don't forget.
Tomorrow: Sample math section.
Ok, I need you to bring a number 2 pencil and your brains,
both of them sharpened. Thank you very much.
Uh, Joey, would you hang on for a moment, please?
Belligerent...
Uh...cryp--
Oh!
God is not this humorless.
Ow!
God!
Don't worry, Pacey. This isn't going to be
one of those horribly awkward
hope-boy-didn't-mean- all-those-hurtful-things-
he-said-during-the-breakup moment.
Well, that's a relief,
'cause I sure don't want to play the guy-feels-guilty-
about-breakup-even-though- it-was-girl-who-had-an-affair-
with-the-mental-patient scene.
Fair enough.
Not that it's any of my business anymore, Andie,
but have you ever heard of overpreparing for a test?
What, as opposed to not preparing at all?
As opposed to making yourself crazy
over something with the word "practice" in front of it.
If you want to throw away everything we've--
I mean, you've worked for...
That's fine by me.
Here.
Me, on the other hand, I am not gonna let
our little bump in the road
throw me off my chosen course.
See you around.
You keep your wits about you, Joey,
and you got a legitimate shot at a national merit scholarship.
Yeah, so everyone keeps telling me...
And telling me and telling me.
Too much pressure on you, huh?
I couldn't sleep again last night.
Hmm. Trust me, I know. I've been there.
I just keep thinking that if I don't ace this exam,
I'm going to end up making beds and cleaning toilets
at the dead end motel for the rest of my life.
Listen, here's what I want you to do.
I want you to take the night off...
Just to relax.
I don't know. Hang out with a friend.
Rent a movie.
You're going to do just fine.
You're going to do better than fine...
And the faculty and I have all the confidence in the world in you.
Ok?
Dawson.
Joey, hi.
Um, since we've agreed to peace with honor,
would it be against the rules of engagement to ask for your help?
Of course not.
Good. 'Cause I could use some.
What do you need?
I don't know.
A night of mindless entertainment.
Um, Jurassic Park or maybe one of those
meteorite-asteroid- atomic-bomb movies
where Bruce Willis or George Clooney
or someone with a receding hairline
somehow manages to save the entire planet
without breaking a sweat.
I just need something to take my mind off the test.
Yeah, you've got a lot riding on it, I know.
Just my entire future.
You tell me when and where.
How about tonight?
Tonight? Um...
Hey, sports fans.
How's 9:00?
Uh...
Um, actually, tonight,
she and I were thinking that, um...
Hey, why--why don't you come with us?
Yeah. I might, um...
On another planet, in a different universe.
No offense.
Ha. What was that about?
I'd appreciate some contact, people!
Come off the ground hard and pop, pop!
Put some hurt on!
Execute!
You're up, McPhee.
All right, Jack, you can do this.
Now, just remember, when you're hit,
button up, become fetal.
Hug that ball. Hug that ball!
Hug that ball.
Take it to him.
How to hit, baby! How to hit!
Get up, McPhee. You're defacing the landscape.
Again.
Come on, coach. Can't you see what's goin' on here?
They're singling me out.
Yeah, but not for the reasons you think.
Give me a break. It's obvious.
Look, Jack, gay or straight,
you are still the new kid on the block,
and you are not protecting the football the way that you should.
Now do it again.
McPhee!
3-point stance!
Can you hear me, Jack?
Jack, you know where you are?
How many fingers?
I think I'm gonna hurl.
I mean, this guy's not exactly
what you would call a ladies' man. Heh.
But I tell him. It is easy.
There's only one rule, plain and simple:
Give the ladies what they want.
How about giving me what I want, Rob?
I thought you'd never ask.
Friday night off so I can study for the PSATs.
They're Saturday.
Yeah, sure. Why not? No sweat.
I remember what it was like.
Of course, I didn't take the PSATs.
What, Daddy built the university?
No, no. Just endowed it.
Actually, I hired a ringer.
Seriously. Paid some brainiac
a couple thousand dollars to take it for me.
Won me a scholarship, too.
Well, since I don't have that kind of cash...
Thank you.
I owe you one.
Well, uh, here's a thought.
You let me take you out for a post-PSAT celebration.
Saturday night. You and me.
Uh, thanks, but, um...
Husband doesn't really like me seeing other people.
Oh, sure. Thought you were gonna say you had to wash your hair.
No, that's Wednesdays.
Actually, Rob, the truth is...
I'm a lesbian.
Oh...
Anyone I know?
So, is it a date?
Saturday night. What do ya say?
Would it be all right if I just said no?
Yeah. Sure thing, Potter.
No problem.
I was starting to worry about you.
I was searching for the perfect apple.
Go ahead. Take a bite.
See if it tastes as good as it looks.
And if I do?
You will forever know the difference between good and evil.
Get out here, Dawson.
It's a beautiful night.
Well, I haven't been out here since...
Since Joey and I were--
Joey?
You mean the ubiquitous brunette?
The one who hasn't yet learned
the power and sway she holds over the hearts of men?
She lives down the creek.
She used to sleep over all the time.
Before we developed secondary sexual characteristics.
I had a boy-next-door.
You did?
Doesn't everybody?
What was his name?
Monroe.
We literally lived in adjoining houses on the base.
You were a military brat?
U.S. army, born and bred.
Matter of fact, we could see into each other's bedrooms.
Really?
That must have been... Convenient.
No kidding.
Only problem is...
He was my dad's commanding officer.
I brought you something else.
What is this?
Call it a study aid.
That is not...
Oh, it is.
An advance copy of Saturday's PSAT.
Why are you showing this to me?
Well...
I was planning on giving it to you.
There's no way I could do that.
Oh, don't be so selfish, Dawson.
I mean, if it goes against your moral code,
fine, but...
Surely there must be somebody you know who could use it.
The apple was a metaphor.
This is the real thing.
An envelope?
This is why you covertly hushed us into a corner?
Pacey, read the fine print.
It says E.T.S., as in educational testing service.
Dawson, this is not what I think it is.
Think again.
Oh, god.
How'd you get this?
Does it matter?
Of course it matters.
When we're all incriminated
and sent to federal prison,
I'd like to know just who I'm taking the rap for.
Someone gave it to me.
A certain someone with blonde locks
and a name that rhymes with Steve?
Oh, she's good.
I like that girl. She's good.
Once again, Dawson Leery proves
the groin is mightier than the brain.
Have you looked inside?
It could be a joke.
Anybody can just whip up a label.
Well, there's only one way to find out.
Oh, go ahead, Pacey.
Way to complete your return to the halls of academic loserdom.
Maybe you'd like to open it up, Andie.
I mean, after all, cheating seems to be an activity
that you're real comfortable with these days.
Look, nobody's opening anything.
Dawson, just bring it back to where you got it,
and none of us ever saw it.
Gee, not to sound like the only typical high-school student here,
but...apparently, as the only typical high-school student,
what's the harm in peeking?
Peeking? I can have us a detailed crib sheet in half an hour.
Guys, look, admittedly, my first reaction was to dump it.
But...you heard Principal Green. I mean, these things are a game.
And as wrong as cheating sounds,
I thought I would bring it up to you guys for discussion.
Ok, morals to Dawson. Come in, Dawson.
This is wrong.
Besides, it's the PSAT.
No one's even required to take it,
let alone do well.
Unless you want to qualify for a national merit scholarship.
Or if you've been too busy gettin' the crap beaten out of you to study.
Or...
If you really want to go to Harvard.
Or if a failed relationship has put you through the emotional ringer,
and you just don't care these days.
Or if you've just been too darn busy gettin' busy.
The point is, we could all use it for something.
All right, people, let's take our seats.
One sample math section coming your way.
On second thought,
all right, you all know the drill.
Leave everything exactly where it is
and file out in an orderly fashion.
Mr. Leery...
Now, please.
Ok.
Dawson...
It's gone.
What's gone?
It.
Very funny. I already checked.
You just left it here?
I had no choice. Green was hovering.
Ok, I took it.
Ah, ha ha! Joking.
Good god. That's not funny.
Pacey, please tell me that you circled around and saved all our lives.
Excuse me?
It's missing. What?
It. Uh-uh.
Uh-uh, is it missing, or uh-uh, you don't have it?
Uh, both...or neither.
I really don't even know
what you guys are talking about.
Pacey, will you quit screwing around?
Oh, I'm not screwing around, Andie.
I'm just as upset as you are.
Dismayed... Even brokenhearted.
The McLaughlin Group, right here at Capeside.
Oh, I love the early-morning debate.
What's today's topic?
Hey, wait a minute. Don't tell me. Don't tell me.
Why is the PSAT not an oral exam?
Well, unfortunately, boys and girls,
you're on your own on this one.
So, let's do me a favor and get back to it independently, ok?
Let's go. Come on.
Joey, what the hell?!
What do you think you're doin'?
It was a mistake. Calm down.
Look, I'm-- I'm sorry about that. She's new here.
Your gas is on the house.
You didn't have to do that.
I filled the tank. So I spilled a little.
It's not exactly the Exxon Valdez.
That 38 bucks is comin' out of your paycheck, Potter.
And consider your precious night off canceled.
What?
You heard me. You're workin' tomorrow night.
Ha. Oh, so, that's how it's going to be?
That's how what's gonna be?
This is not about me messing up on the job.
This is about your bruised little ego.
Not used to female rejection, are you, Rob?
I have no idea what you're talkin' about, Potter.
Ow! Damn, Jen.
Jesus, just try not to make any sharp movements, all right?
It tends to happen when there's a surging pain
striking my chest cavity.
I thought that you guys wore pads out there.
Yeah, well, I must be wearing the placebo pads.
Well, at least you can maintain your sense of humor through all this.
Until it gets beaten out of me, too.
Here.
Sorry. Tomorrow I’m turnin' in my helmet.
Jack, you can't.
Yeah? Watch me.
All right, my friend, you want to be a quitter?
Go right ahead. Be a quitter.
Ok, ward, uh, I'm not beaver cleaver,
and we're not in black and white here.
And no half-ass layman's use of reverse psychology
is gonna stop me from preventing my corpse
from being carried off that field.
All right, all right, mock the sentiment,
but you can't deny the truth.
When you quit something,
you're telling yourself that you're not good enough.
Oh, ok. So what you're saying is that, uh,
what I learn out there on the gridiron about sacrifice and pain
will be of infinite value later on in life?
Mm-hmm. And that if I quit now,
I'll most surely quit
in the more important contest of the future?
Exactly.
Yeah, well, I'm quitting.
Ok, smart ass,
how about this for a reason?
You caught the ball.
Now, call me corny, call me superstitious,
but fate tossed you that ball, Jack.
Who knows why, but it did.
Maybe you're meant to be a well-known gay athlete
who inspires others to come to terms with who they are.
Maybe you're meant to help this school
actually win a few games and develop a sense of morale...
Or maybe this is just the first step towards
meeting someone else in a similar situation.
You don't know the reason,
but until you do, hang on to that ball.
Oh, that was cheesier than your first response.
Mmm.
Ow! Come on.
Never talk back to somebody who could cut off your air supply.
Hey--
You're wasting your time, Dawson.
It's gotta be here somewhere.
How do you figure?
Eve...
Could you at least pretend to help me save my ass?
Well...it is a cute ass, but...
But what?
But we don't have a chance in hell
of finding what you're looking for.
How do you know that, Eve?
The test was on this table one minute.
The next minute, it's gone.
Obviously, it has to have gone some--
Quick, Dawson, someone's coming.
Kill the light.
What would look better
on my high-school transcripts...
A--cheating,
b--possession of stolen materials,
c--breaking and entering,
or d--all of the above?
You're right, Dawson.
About what?
Let's get out of here.
Besides, if you really want that exam back,
it shouldn't be too difficult.
What do you mean?
It didn't disappear, Dawson.
Somebody took it.
How do you know that?
Call it female intuition.
God, if you're right, it could've been anybody.
There were dozens of kids in that room
when the alarm went off.
Process of elimination.
Of those kids, how many knew what was in the envelope?
5.
6, including me.
Who would steal something they didn't know the value of?
See my point?
Face it, Dawson.
In the privacy of their own room,
one of your friends
is right now slipping a finger between the pages
and breaking the seal.
One month into my tenure here as principal at Capeside High,
and I got a national cheating scandal on my hands!
Look, it makes no difference
whether one of you takes the fall for this,
or you all go down together
in some sort of grand gesture of teenage loyalty.
But somebody better fess up
and better fess up soon!
Otherwise, you are all expelled!
Joey?
So, what kind of black-market Booty
do you have for us today, Dawson?
Just happened to find out what Microsoft will be trading at tomorrow?
Look, I called you guys here because I wanted
to give you all-- to give us all--
a chance to rectify this situation.
How?
Whoever stole the test needs to give it back.
Well, wasn't it already stolen, Dawson?
I love the way that this girl thinks.
Look, the point is, it's missing.
Yesterday it wasn't.
So what's the harm in just letting it be lost, Dawson?
I agree. Whoever needed it was no more desperate
than the rest of us, only quicker.
Doesn't it bother anyone what this says
about our group's level of integrity?
Well, I think I speak for our group
when I respond with a hearty "no!"
I'm starting to feel
like some sort of psychologically abused lab rat.
You're not the lab rat, Jen. Dawson is.
Watch it, Joey.
Throwing parties, crashing boats,
upstaging marching bands?
Dawson, if your rope was any more yanked, you'd be a church bell.
Joey, Eve has nothing to do with this.
Oh, no. It's typical Dawson Leery behavior
to offer your friends contraband.
She didn't tell me to do anything with that test.
You are so blinded by her cover-girl looks,
you wouldn't even notice if she did.
I bet when she offered you that test,
you didn't fire one ethical comment her way, did you?
It's just your friends who have to sit here and--
and suffer through the Dawson Leery morality play.
Bleached blonde ho-bags willing to put out need not audition.
Are you finished?
I could go on.
Look, I'm sorry I brought you all into this,
but one of us has taken this charade to another level.
Here's the deal: I'm gonna leave my locker unlocked.
Whoever has the test will put it inside by 5:30 today.
Oh, come on, Dawson.
The petty thief among us
already left the crime scene.
They're not gonna return that thing now.
What's the incentive?
To do the right thing.
You got a second?
It's important, Pacey.
Sure.
You know, Andie, I'm really not in the mood
for some sordid heart-to-heart today,
so if we can just kind of cut this thing short...
Ok.
Consider this final negotiations.
What's this?
Look for yourself.
Well, it's some t-shirts,
my panthers cap...
And...
Dumbo,
which is the first thing that I ever gave to you.
Everything you've ever given me is in this box.
All pictures, CDs, jewelry--it's all there.
You don't think maybe this is a little harsh?
Pacey, this isn't going to be
one of those long, drawn-out breakups.
You're not dealing with the basket case you met last year.
I have my life in order, and I intend on doing
everything I can to keep it that way. I have a plan.
Right. Harvard, Harvard uber alles.
I wanted you to be a part of it,
and if you can't, then you get nothing.
Not even memories?
Especially not those.
Fine. Look, if those are the terms, where do I sign?
You just did.
Hyah! All right, jacky boy!
Move 'em out! How to go! We hit! We hit!
Jacky boy! Work! Work! Work!
You know what you need?
What?
A mantra.
A private word or sound. Everyone's got one.
Really? What for?
Something to focus on, to take your mind off the fact
that you're about to be annihilated
by a 250-pound lineman snorting fire at you
from the other side of the ball.
Oh, that's great.
Seriously, Jack.
Anything to stop from thinking.
In this sport, thought equals death.
Let me ask you something.
Why are you doing this?
What do you mean?
Helping me. I don't know-- I don't...
That's easy. 2 reasons.
First, I want to win football games,
and without your magic hands, we don't stand a chance.
And 2 is...
Well...
You--you're gay, right?
I mean, it's not supposed to be, like, a secret or anything?
No.
Whew!
Why the sudden interest in my sexual orientation?
Uh, well...
There's this-- this girl that you know.
More like an angel, really, or a goddess.
Who?
I dream about her, Jack, every night, heavy dreams,
about her lips, her breasts, her legs...
If she would just allow me near her
to smell her sweet smell, maybe even kiss me
or take me in her arms--
Deliver me from suffering falsehood!
It would prove that there wasn't anything bad
or--or empty-hearted in this world that couldn't be corrected.
Just slow down. Get a grip on yourself.
See how I am? You gotta help me, Jack. I'm begging you.
You're not--you're not talking about who I think you're--
A certain head cheerleader.
Jen Lindley?
What?
Word to the wise.
This is no reflection on you, Henry,
at all.
But, um,
you're a freshman.
Ok? You have about as much chance with Jen Lindley
as I have in making it through that chute tomorrow.
I'll be there in a minute.
No loitering, Pacey.
Listen.
I am a legitimate customer,
and I demand some service, missy.
Have you been drinking?
Only liquor, I promise.
What's wrong?
Ah, it's nothing a little bonfire won't fix.
You see, our friend Andie...
Decided that she needed to cleanse me from her life
to maintain her sanity.
The casualties were the contents of this box.
Behold--unh!
Oh, hello, Mr. Dock.
Pacey...
Hey, Joe...
Yeah?
Do me a favor.
I probably shouldn't go home like this.
You think you could call my dad and tell him I'm hanging here?
Yeah.
That's my girl.
You're like a Saint Bernard, Dawson,
loyal and faithful to the last.
In about 30 seconds, I'm gonna open that locker
and prove you wrong.
How can you be so certain?
'Cause I believe in happy endings, Eve.
I always have.
Happy endings.
There's a contradiction in terms
if I ever heard one.
You're enjoying this.
Not really. It's just that my taste in fairy tales
usually runs more towards...
The Brothers Grimm.
How can you be so relentlessly cynical?
How can you be so profoundly naive?
All is not lost, my sweet prince.
You know what, Eve, just...
Leave me the hell alone, ok?
Are you sure?
Bet I can help you get the test back.
How?
By telling you who took it.
I'm listening.
Tell me who you think it is.
I don't know.
Yes, you do.
Whoever you were just thinking of,
that's the thief.
It's that simple?
It is.
Simple and obvious.
I don't buy it. If there's one thing that I've learned
from those stupid PSAT prep books,
it's that the most obvious choice is usually the wrong one.
We're not talking about standardized tests here, Dawson.
Take a look at your yearbook.
It's a crystal ball.
The ones most likely to succeed usually succeed.
And the one most likely to wind up in a chain gang...
Usually has some rock-breaking in his future.
Welcome to the real world, Dawson,
where the first person to stab you in the back
is your best friend.
Well, if it isn't inspector get-a-Clouseau.
What brings you to these parts
at this late hour?
You're drunk.
You're quick.
It's the night before the PSAT, Pacey.
Why are you drinking?
I don't need to study.
I mean, I got the test, right?
If you have it, give it back.
Oh, I wish I did, hombre.
I mean, I really wish I did.
But I don't.
I don't. It's not here.
It's not at home under my bed with my Playboys.
It is nowhere to be found.
Pacey, we've been friends for 16 years,
and I'm not stupid.
Friends, huh?
Friends.
You know, that word "friends"...
It's an interesting word.
It implies that you would actually believe your friend
when he's telling you something.
When they tell me the truth.
When he's tell--
Ha ha!
Oh, ha ha!
You want to know what I find
so very amusing about this situation?
I mean, what I think is so really, really rich
about all this
is that you yourself were capable of stealing this test.
All right, you thought about it. You didn't throw that test away.
You didn't give it back to Eve.
You brought the test to us!
No. I wanted to consult the people I trusted
to determine what the best thing was to do.
I never thought that anyone would be so weak
or so self-motivated to actually swipe it.
Weak and self-motivated, huh?
Now, which one of those 2 colorful adjectives would I be?
You are who you are, Pacey.
Yes, I am, Dawson.
And so are you.
You, Dawson Leery,
are a self-righteous son of a bitch
who cares more about his rose-colored defunct 1950s belief system
than the people who fail to live up to it, huh?
Interesting choice of words,
coming from a smug, cold-hearted son of a bitch
who just dumped his girlfriend after she begged
and pleaded for an ounce of sympathy!
At least I didn't send her father to prison.
No. You just made her go crazy.
Ahh...
Pace--Dawson, what are you doing?
It's my fault. I'm sorry.
Dawson, this has got to stop.
Are you ok?
Hey...
Brought you a Pepsi.
No, thanks. I'm not thirsty.
It's for your lip, moron, in lieu of ice.
I can't believe he thought I took it.
So what, Pacey?
I thought if I'd earned anyone's respect,
it was Dawson's.
I mean, if the guy who knows you better than anybody on earth
thinks you're a loser, then maybe--
Then maybe you are one?
Come on.
I mean, I've thought you were a loser for years,
but you've never believed me.
It's just...
You know, when does a person start believing
the general consensus about themselves?
When it's right.
Do me a favor. What?
Would you tell your friend Dawson that I'm innocent?
I mean, he'll believe you.
My friend?
Look, he's your friend, too.
And you know as well as I do
that he's somewhere right now sulking over the gravity
of his wrongful accusation.
Oh, good.
Let him stew in his own pride for a while.
We're all guilty of that.
Hey, I'd never accuse him of cheating.
Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure he would never take
the first swing at you.
He started that whole thing.
I'm not getting into this.
Ok. So, tell me...
What?
What do you think happened to that test?
I don't know.
And to be honest, I...
I don't want to know.
You know, there are certain things in life you just...
You're better off not knowing,
certain things that you wish you never knew,
never asked, and, um...
Never saw.
Ok, so tell me honestly...
Does it look that bad?
On your face, any reconstructive surgery whatsoever
is a definite improvement.
Did you get it back?
Not exactly. What happened?
That's what I've been sitting here trying to figure out.
And?
The only thing I can come up with is you, Eve.
You happened to me.
You and that stupid test.
Which one of us gave you the black eye?
Look, Eve, I accept my blame in this,
but don't even try to tell me that you didn't know
what giving me that test would do.
Look, if crafting me as the villain in your little mystery
is what it takes for you to sleep at night...
Go right ahead.
The fact is, we're all criminals, Dawson,
in one way or another.
It's just the stupid ones who get caught.
Nice knowing you, Eve.
Ha! Is that how it works?
Someone offers you a view of human nature
that's even remotely truthful,
and you just walk away from them?
It terrifies you, doesn't it?
That wholesome Dawson Leery could be
so overwhelmingly attracted
to someone so flawed...
So real.
Eve, the purpose of our spending time together
was to get to know each other.
You know what?
Now that I know you...
I don't really like you.
...Chicken?
How loose is your goose?
So come on, all you Minutemen,
uh! And shake
your caboose.
Parker, come on.
Move your tongue from the turf.
I need some words of encouragement.
Well... Sure thing.
How's your ribs?
Well, you know, I can still breathe, but then again,
practice isn't over yet.
All right, people! Put your helmets on!
McPhee, you're first in the chute.
You got your mantra?
What is it?
Fug.
Fug?
Uh-huh...f-u-g.
It's the only word I got in my head right now.
Fug. Fug.
Fug!
Then go with it.
All right.
Fug. Fug.
Oh, fug.
Fug!
All right, man!
Way to go!
Thanks, coach.
Good job! Yeah, baby! Whoo!
Way to go!
Whoo!
Unreal!
Fug...
Fug! Fug!
What the...
Fug!
What the hell was that?
Today's PSAT test will be 2 1/2 hours long.
As you know, there are 5 sections:
2 verbal, 2 mathematics,
and one writing.
There will be one 15-minute break.
Are there any questions?
All right.
You people have 30 minutes to complete--
Can I help you, Mr. Leery?
What are you doing?
It's a long story.
Ok. If there's no one else...
I left the oven on.
What took you so long?
Ah, it's those analogies, man.
They're killer.
Remind me why we just did that again?
Because if we're gonna beat the crap out of each other,
it should at least be over a chick.
You may begin.