CHAD: They said Mr. Ludd lived in his car.
And shaving in the front seat only made the rumors worse.
He knew we were watching, but he didn't care.
Ludd just right along with his business.
You had to respect that.
(sighs) He definitely lives in it.
I believe that's that man's home.
Hmm... maybe he just uses it to groom in.
(school bell rings)
Come on, man, Ludd's gonna mark us tardy.
(scoffs) The guy has a jar of pickles on his dash.
He can't do anything... watch.
Hey, come on... that's morning detention for you clowns.
Mop this up and then you have mice cages to clean.
I'd never been in detention.
Ever... it just wasn't in my nature.
But Chris, he made himself at home.
It was like he was hanging out in his living room.
Care for a lamprey cocktail, Mr. Stevens?
Shaken, not stirred... as you like it.
My dad's gonna lose it when he finds out I'm in here.
(laughter nearby)
Tick-tock.
Any last mouse words before you get ate?
Shouldn't there be, like, different levels of detention?
High security versus low security?
We're practically white-collar criminals and here we are
side by side with two tons of Charles Manson.
(squeaking)
Oh, my God, yes!
- That's amazing. - Nice one, boss.
Touchdown.
Shh... Troy and Dean enough, come on!
Whoa, nice. Good job, boss.
Damn cookie-faced Chips-a-Troy.
He's so lame I can't even look at him.
What are you two queens talking about... me?
Hey, you know, Troy, for such a popular guy,
you sure do seem to have quite a "chip" on your shoulder.
(fuming)
A big fat, juicy
choc-o-late chip.
You're dead.
(school bell rings)
(students chanting indistinctly)
(whistle blows)
Chris Novak, wait for my signal.
(grunts) Mm-hmm.
Aw, so high.
(grunting)
Students, students.
Listen to Principal Dild, please. Quiet down now.
Aw, man, I'm already bored. (clears throat)
That's enough of your vinegary voice for today, Dild Pickle.
(laughter)
I'll tell you when I'm finished, young man.
I'm finished.
Good afternoon, fellow students.
As your class treasurer, I've been pondering the...
Sharla Lamoyne.
The first time I saw her was just the back of her head.
I imagined a thousand faces.
And when I actually saw it,
it exceeded every expectation.
Our world is on the brink
of destruction... war, famine, genocide.
I don't know about you, but I want to do something about it.
That's why next Saturday is the "Give Peace a Dance" dance.
Peace dance? Who's gonna chaperone?
Gandhi and Mother Teresa? (laughter)
Finally get some friction going between those robes?
Knock it off, man.
Peace is important.
Let her finish.
Y'all say dance... I got a dance for you.
The hilly dilly gabber-dabber.
Ah, huckety,
hickety, huckety...
Come on, man, sit down.
Hookety, huckety, yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck.
(mock laughing)
Aah!
Oh, God.
Well, look who it is.
Gravity's little bitch.
Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.
Mommy? He wants his Mommy?
(laughter)
ALL (chanting): Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
Behold, Chris,
the apotheosis of high school mockery.
Poor bastard.
'Sup, Mommy?
(plays trombone) (laughs)
"Mommy"... geez, why'd I have to say something so goddamn weak?
I mean, seriously, what am I composed of?
It was a gut reaction.
You can't control your gut.
Hey, let's go sign Mommy's cast.
Aah, stop, get... get off!
Aah, shoo, you sons of bitches.
(laughter)
Aw, Jesus.
You got to get me some Wite-Out, pronto.
I'll ask Sharla.
Peace Dance Girl?
Aw, whatever... just get me some.
You came to volunteer for the dance!
Well, yeah, for sure.
- What is your skill set? - As of late, you know,
I've been rapping a good deal, making rhymes, beats...
- How about decorations? - Okay, sure.
You can come by my house tomorrow after school.
- I'm at 647... - Oh, I know where you live.
(whistles)
So, Sharla, you got any Wite-Out?
Uh, nope. Sorry.
Varnish'll do it... hit me.
Hold your breath.
No way.
(breathing deeply)
Chris?
(deeper voice): Chris?
Chris, honey?
Chris?
(mumbles)
More peas, sweetie?
Well, this dinner is ruined for me.
I'm a sensual man.
I live for that subtle interplay of black pepper and allspice.
But tonight I'm eating
goddamn Chris cast for dinner.
That smell... that's all I taste.
Huggin', serpent-eyed, no-soul son of a bitch.
- What'd you say? - You know, Chris,
shouting out "Mommy" the way you did,
I think it's sweet.
Well, I'm glad at least somebody can eek
a little joy from my pain.
Shame for love?
Why so afraid to throw roses?
In my country, you honor the woman.
Here, you're in Man Land... land of the closed-off mind.
And now in their eyes, you're a mama's boy, forever.
Most of Terry's ramblings were just static to us,
but I could tell that once he said "mama's boy,"
he had Chris's full attention.
(sighs) So, how am I gonna get
this Mommy stink off me and get a new nickname?
You could learn auction talk.
I'll start calling you Jibbers.
It'll stick.
You know what I'll do?
I'll get some of that movie gel
and light myself on fire.
They'll call me Kid Torch.
King Kid Inferno.
Lucifer Supreme.
(coughs) No, see, you have to think more like a moron.
They'll just start calling you Flamer.
Hell, yeah... The Flamer.
Perfect. (knock on door)
Permission to enter.
You got the toll?
(timer ticking)
Okay, Chris.
So, when you said the snake squeezes the mouse
until its eyes pop out, are you saying that
they actually pop out and dangle by the gut strings?
Ah, it's more of a bulging than a pop.
Either way, it's pretty damn spectacular.
Whoa. (bell dings)
Time's up, little one.
Chad, please. Please, Chad.
Please sneak me in. The snake, I got...
Dude, you're not gonna go from Mommy
to badass in a single bound.
We should focus on getting you
a more bearable nickname.
Maybe, I'll just break my other leg.
And my arm. It'll be pandemonium.
Pandy for short... hell, yeah.
Pandy.
Well, I have to go help my...
dad move some furniture over at his office.
You sure are gussied up for it.
Yeah, he's got a dress code.
Don't worry about it.
You can stay and play if you want.
But don't let Jay in.
I don't want him getting used to freebies.
Affirmative.
'Sup, Pandemonium?
Hey, Pandy, check out my dirt bike.
Oh, my God, Pandy's popping a wheelie!
Look, he's on fire.
(doorbell rings)
(gulps)
This dance is my life's work thus far.
I even got in a fight with Sarah over the peace theme,
ironically, but finally I won.
We've been best friends since preschool and we rarely argue.
Do you and Chris fight much?
Oh, you know, your standard bickering.
He seems kind of like a handful.
He's kind of mean and so immature.
What makes you say that?
Well, the stuff he was shouting at me, for one.
That's just what Chris does at assemblies.
It wasn't anything personal.
It felt personal.
That's because he's good at what he does.
- Hey, check it out. - What's that?
A peace-wad.
(giggles) I like it.
Okay, you sure about this?
Christ, man, anything's better
than a weak, womanly Mommy.
All right, Operation Less Pathetic Nickname commence.
Time for this dynamo
to manipulate the masses with his wit and style.
(grunting)
Can you help me with my cumberbund?
Hey, check out Chris.
What an impeccable chap.
Good morrow to all.
Look at me... I'm much too creative and free-spirited
to be tied down by the conventions of society.
Top of the tip of the morning to you, sir.
(high voice): Let's call him Professor.
Professor, Professor, Professor.
(deep voice): Professor it is.
Professor!
- Professor, Prof... - Aah!
Did Mommy dress Mommy wrong this morning?
We can fix that.
There you go, Mommy.
Thanks.
(groans)
(laughter)
(chanting): Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
Let's call him Bow Tie.
Uh, Cumberbund Neck...
Pandemonium? Pandy?
Pandy? Pandy?
(sighs) That's it.
I'm Mommy forever.
No, we can still crack this nut, man.
What's the one thing dumbasses of today respond to?
- A jolt. - You're right.
Shock value.
I'll tear my goddamn face off.
Call me Gristle; let them live with that in the halls.
Hey, guys, what are you doing?
Going to see more snakes eat more mice?
Can I come? Can I watch?
You are one obsessed little ghoul, aren't you?
It's just, I can't imagine seeing anything cooler
than that in my entire life.
That's it. I've got it.
I'm gonna swallow a live mouse.
And I'm gonna do it in front of the whole school.
Whoa. Yeah, that'll do it.
At the "Give Peace a Dance" dance.
That's right.
You didn't mishear.
I'm gonna be swallowing a real, living,
breathing mouse with fur and eyes
and teeth and claws, with tiny lungs
and tiny kidneys and a tiny little heart
beating bright red blood.
And I'll do it this Saturday, 9:00 p.m. on the dot,
at the "Give Peace a Dance" dance.
- Whoa! - No way!
(excited murmuring)
Corey Speewell's coming!
(chuckles) Hey, Corey.
(sniffs)
He don't got it.
I can see it in his eyes.
Five-to-one odds he don't do it.
All right, guys, make your money talk.
(crowd murmuring)
Did you hear Chris is gonna eat a mouse at my dance?
Who? My Chris?
Chris Novak?
This will ruin everything I worked for.
I'm trying to put good energy out into the world,
and Chris is gonna make it all negative.
You want me to talk to him?
Would you?
I mean, he's his own man, but...
Oh! Oh, thank you, Chad.
You are the greatest.
Don't forget, you're helping me
decorate the cafeteria after school.
Bye, Chad.
Yo, Chad-o!
(panting) Listen up.
All right, man, here's the plan.
You cause a distraction while I snatch a mouse from Fin's lab.
I got some stink and smoke bombs.
At exactly 3:45, you light the smoke bombs
- right outside his window. - What are the stink bombs for?
You can throw those at his face when he comes out.
- Why? - That's just how I envisioned it.
A little pier de resistance.
Chris, you know, there might be
a better place than the dance to pull your stunt.
Are you kidding?
Everyone's gonna be all adrenalized
from pawing at each other's hips.
Then I cap that natural high with a little carnage,
and it's bye-bye, Mommy.
Trust me, the dance is the place.
See you at 3:45.
(sighs)
(stapler clicking)
(chuckles)
Um, I think it's secured, Chad.
Oh, yeah.
(chuckles)
Uh, I got to get going right now.
Oh, no. Really?
We were about to sneak into the freezer and have some hot cocoa.
And Sarah knows how to get into the snack cakes, so...
I know. It's just...
Come on, what's the rush?
(sighs) As I've explained several times already,
the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.
Understand now?
I don't. I don't get it.
(squeaking)
(sighs)
You know, Chris,
I don't know, maybe you're more of a world history guy.
And that's okay.
I say embrace your strengths and let's call it a day.
So, did you talk to Chris?
- Yes. Yes, I did. - And?
And, well, I think you'll be satisfied with the results.
Cool.
There's something so nice about the texture of a snowball.
It's oh-so organic.
Fleshy even.
Oh, how I adore thee, yon tender breast flesh.
(laughter)
Look, I'm eating a turd.
(singsong): Nobody's laughing.
(taps glass)
Get your mouse.
And get yourself a nice, big juicy one.
A spectacular mouse for the spectacle.
Shut up.
(laughter)
(shivers): Brr!
Talk about a chilling experience.
(laughs)
(laughter)
Thanks for leaving me hanging, man.
What's this, the mayonnaise fan club?
This is just some friends.
Friends? These people don't have friends, Chad.
They have cronies.
Calm down, man.
Why are you so afraid to branch out a little bit?
Branch out?
That's what you call ditching me?
What are you, some swaying majestic social tree?
What if I am, huh?
Then I hope you meet a social Paul Bunyan.
Look, Chad, I got it loose.
(gasps) You've got a crush on peace-dance girl.
- No, I don't. - You don't?
Wait, do you want me to?
Oh, God, look at this!
Sweet Valley High.
Why don't you go make some s'mores by a romantic moon lake!
Geez, Chris, what is your problem?
What's my problem?!
You strung me out to dry for a woman.
A round-faced, circle-headed woman!
(gasps) Circle-headed?
Just... just get out of here.
Mommy.
(gasps)
(chanting): Mommy! Mommy!
(screams)
Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
(phone ringing)
If it's Chris, I am not here.
Hello.
Oh, hi.
(singsong): Chad, it's Sharla.
Oh, damn it!
Hello. Hey, Sharla.
Yeah, no, I'm appalled by Chris
and all he stands for, really.
Yeah, I must be maturing.
But, yeah, eat a mouse at a dance?
Come on. Know what I mean?
Eat a mouse?
Rose, cancel bridge on Saturday night.
We're chaperoning the dance.
(mouse squeaking)
I'll gobble you up right here and now
if you don't quit with the squeaking!
(microwave beeps)
(stopwatch beeps)
New record!
You're nothing but a little morsel!
I strip you of your name.
No longer are you Cuddle K. Jones.
And I disqualify you
from the tunnel-tube speed-trial championships.
Roach McHafferty regains his title by default.
(clears throat): Ahem!
What do you want?
You know, Chris, I was thinking.
If this goes well tonight,
between your throat
and my showmanship, the future is ours.
Give it up for the young women's nude acrobatics team!
And now the one and only
Chris "The Creature Eater" Novak will swallow
the largest rodent known to man:
the capybara!
(crowd cheering)
Unhinge me!
(drill whirs)
(crowd gasps)
(chittering)
You think I like this?
I'm not doing this for fun.
It's for high school survival.
You're too young and pure to understand.
Now get lost.
(sighs)
Remember, good choices out there, son.
Hey, Terry.
Fancy seeing you here.
Fancy everywhere I go, man.
These poor kids and their innocence.
Look at that.
Boys there, girls over there.
You know, it's only a matter of time before these forces
come together to add more players to the human tragedy.
(scoffs)
Terry hates Western mating rituals.
Then why'd he come?
It's part of his community service.
(talking quietly)
(sighs)
(laughter)
Well, if somebody...
All right, place your bets, place your bets.
Will he or won't he eat a mouse?
Hey, Terry, don't take this the wrong way,
but you seem like you'd know a thing or two
about the modern drug scene.
Up or down?
No, nothing like that.
I just, um... do you know what "eating a mouse" means?
What that's slang for?
That's not slang man, that's real.
Chris is going to eat a mouse to show he's got soul.
Chris, not Chad?
Who's Chad?
I'm not sure whether or not to be relieved.
Just be Wayne, man.
Don't define it.
(door closes)
So, she let you have a potty break?
Excuse me, would you?
I'm gonna go talk to a girl.
You should try it sometime.
Talk is cheap.
I prefer to do them.
Okay, Chris.
You go ahead and do that.
I'm out of here.
Wait.
I can't dot, Chad.
This little guy has personality, charm, charisma even.
I can't eat him.
What do you want me to do about it?
- Help me. - Help you?
Ever since I met you, I've been helping you.
You know how many you owe me by now?
I didn't know we were keeping track.
I can't help it that you never need help.
Slave or free man, I'd still kill for you.
Don't you know that?
You're on your own this time, dude.
(squeaking)
Would you like dancing?
Would you like to dance?
(giggles) Okay.
It's time, Novak.
(blows note)
Next dance, okay?
Sorry. Next dance.
CROWD (chanting): Mommy! Mommy!
Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
(chanting continues faintly)
Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
(laughter, cheering)
Friends, when I said I could eat a mouse,
well, I really thought I could eat a mouse.
But now, due to emotional circumstances
completely out of my control...
Wait, wait, wait! I found him! I found him!
What?
I found your mouse.
Now, thanks to Chad here, I will be eating a mouse after all.
(crowd cheering)
Yeah, eat it, dude!
Stop! This is a peace dance!
Peace!
How can you not understand peace?!
Peace... !
(grunts)
(crowd groans)
Eh.
Call me Jaws!
Sir Mouth Terrible!
Iron Tiger Tooth!
Yeah!
Mommy did it!
(chanting): Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!
Yeah!
Who's your Mommy now?!
(chanting continues) Whoo! Yeah!
CHAD: It ain't easy being Mommy.
The truth is there's a fine line
between social ostracism and adoration.
A dodgy, delicate balance.
Whoo! Way to go, Mommy!
You made that mouse your bitch!
Hard-core! Oh, yeah!
Thank you.
Thanks for ruining my dance, you guys.
You call that mature, Chad?
I'm mature.
Thought you were different, Chad.
Go eat a turd.
Eat a turd, huh?
Didn't know the girl had that kind of spice.
Nah, she's just talking about this joke I made.
I said a Chocodile looks like a turd.
(laughs)
You're right, it does.
You observant son of a bitch.
That's too good.
TROY: Hey, dicks!
You think you're better than me 'cause you ate a mouse?
I'm gonna pound that mouse out of your stomach.
- Let's roll Pandy. - We're gonna get ya!
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