There you are!
Hey, check this out.
My dad took me shopping last night.
That is so cute.
What other colors does it come in?
Red, blue, tiki green.
Best of all, it's a camera.
Take one of me.
I'm still trying to figure it out.
Hey, get off!
Sorry, Dr. Seuss.
Don't get all Grinchy on me.
How do I look?
Unpopular.
Excuse me. Come on, snap me.
I'm trying.
There's so many buttons.
Can I please have my hat back?
Why? Are your superpowers, like, leaking away?
Come on, give it a rest, you guys.
Oh, now everybody's Grinchy.
Here.
What's wrong? Did you and your biker chick break up?
Hey, I think I got it! Hey.
( camera clicks )
( laughing )
For your girlfriend's wallet?
Cute. Hand it over.
( laughing )
( whistles )
♪ What if God was one of us? ♪
♪ Just a slob like one of us? ♪
♪ Just a stranger on the bus trying to make his way home? ♪
♪ Just trying to make his way home? ♪
So I've given some of my paintings
to be put into a new show at the Franklin gallery.
In public?
Peer review. Bold move.
Great. First teaching, now gallery shows.
I mean, why don't you just put me on display and sell tickets?
You're so selfless.
I'm not even sure I should be doing it.
I've only been dabbling in acrylics for a few months.
And they're terrific.
I can't believe you didn't tell us about this.
Well, my... my compositions aren't balanced,
and forget about the negative and positive space.
When's the opening?
Tomorrow.
Great! Ha!
Maybe you should include nude portraits of the whole family,
or better yet, a series of paintings entitled,
My Daughter's Life: A Retrospective in Humiliation.
Are you okay, Joan?
No.
Yes.
Just...
the usual. ( chuckles )
School's, you know... stuff.
It's just the big picture...
( Joan mumbling )
GRACE: Can I just say I sort of
pictured you the matching bra-and-panties type.
You picture me in my panties?
Not till I saw the photo.
And my advice: stay in school.
How'd you see it?
Spam e-mail.
( groans )
I made a huge mistake
when I didn't hurl that cell phone into a shower stall.
You have to nip this in the bud.
People who use smiley faces in their e-mail
do not deserve that much power.
Are you talking about the panty shot?
I deleted it, like, immediately.
This is a nightmare!
( boy chuckles )
An... actual nightmare
I've had in my sleep.
Uh, why do they hate you so much?
They were picking on this pathetic hat girl
in the locker room.
I should have just kept my mouth shut.
And your clothes on.
You stuck up for someone in gym?
That's like the front lines.
Kudos. Rave on.
Is English, like, a second language for you?
Chill, Jane.
What are you gonna do?
I don't know.
I was thinking witness protection program.
It'll blow over.
Definite blowage.
That is not the point.
An act of, uh, retaliation is in order here.
And peaceful protest went out with Gandhi.
He went around naked,
a-and he's, like, an icon.
I'm just trying to help.
BOY: Hey, baby, got any videos?
( whistling )
( siren wailing )
( staff speaking excitedly )
( sobbing )
MAN: I need a portable chest X-ray.
WOMAN: Got it.
Go ahead and have a seat right over here, please.
( staff speaking excitedly )
Pressure's dropping.
EMT: Coming through. Watch the back, please.
Got a cervical spine.
Thank you. Clear the way.
( grunting )
You have to tell me.
I don't want to wait anymore, no!
Six dead so far, a lot more injured.
They keep coming in.
All this happened in 20 seconds?
How many people did he hit?
Farmers Market draws a big crowd.
Apparently, he plowed his car through the heart of it.
We'll need his blood and urine as soon as possible.
I want a breathalyzer now.
Look, the guy's 72.
First I need to make sure he's okay.
That's not my biggest concern at the moment.
Is that him?
DOCTOR: Yeah. Just give me a sec.
( staff speaking excitedly )
Shrink finally gives me the green light
to get back on the street, and this is the first thing I see.
You okay?
No, I'm horrified.
Kind of pissed off.
( heart rate monitor flat lines )
You bastard! You killed my wife!
WILL: Hey, hey, take it easy!
( sobbing )
We have three children.
You tell my children you killed their mother!
Get him upstairs to a secure room.
( door slams )
Sorry.
Didn't see you.
( with Slavic accent ): It's all right.
In my country, we are accustomed to centuries of tribal warfare.
Are you, like, an exchange student?
You might say I'm in charge
of the exchange program.
That was, like, the worst German accent I ever heard.
Slavic, Joan.
You've heard of the Balkan states?
No, not really.
Is every day like Halloween for you, or...
I'm amused by harmless pagan rituals.
Not so much by bloodletting.
Pace, pace.
We're burning daylight here.
Repeating myself is part of the job.
Vengeance is mine...
sayeth me.
Okay, to be fair,
you never went to high school.
You never went to the Crusades.
It's time for you to round out your curriculum, Joan.
You know, for college.
Who can think about college at a time like this?
High school will end.
Doesn't that cheer you up?
Uh, band rehearsal coincides with study hall.
Easy excuse slip.
Band?
They're always hurting for percussionists.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Am I being punished or something?
I haven't even fought back yet.
Hitting a drum feels pretty good.
Oh, thanks, Ringo.
( bell rings )
( random tuning )
( plays sharp note ) ( gasps )
TEACHER: Can I help you?
How do I sign up?
Well, that depends. Who are you,
and what do you play?
Um, I'm Joan Girardi, um...
I play percussion-ism
-ist.
Excellent.
We need someone on drums.
You will pound the skins,
driving the beat into our piece,
like the drummers of old,
who called the warriors into battle
with their fierce, pounding rhythms.
( chuckles )
Okay. Um...
do you have the...
hitting things?
Yes, the hitting things. Uh...
Here you are, Joan.
( chuckles )
All right.
We've got three weeks until March-a-Palooza.
Are we going to rock?
ALL ( weakly ): Yeah.
I said,
are we going to rock?
ALL: ( louder ): Yeah.
Yeah. That's more like it.
Okay, let's take
a crack at the new one.
I think this has the herkies spirit
you're all be down for.
( scoffing )
TEACHER: Fleetwood Mac...
Fleetwood Mac?
No. Not when he gets through with it.
...subtle rhythms, precise harmonies,
melodies both strong and tender,
all combining to form a rich musical landscape.
Right. Thanks.
Okay. From the beginning, in "C",
horns, you come in
two bars late.
( Joan playing out of sync )
( drumbeat overpowering melody )
Is, uh, there an echo in here?
( chuckles ): I'm sorry.
I'm warming up.
Okay.
Let's try that again...
together.
( students chuckling )
Uh... percussion?
That was commendably fierce,
but rhythmically challenged.
Take a moment to listen to the horns,
find a beat-- any beat--
and, uh... no flying debris.
That's easy.
Okay.
( tuba playing melody )
( chattering )
WILL: It's a triangle attacking a circle.
Oh, maybe the circle was rude.
It's beautifully composed.
Daniel's work is very powerful.
Okay.
Powerful.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, Picasso.
The ability to stand and converse
is kind of a requirement for these things.
I know, I know, I know.
I'm just very, very nervous.
Oh, my God, I have students here.
You know, thi...
this is a really bad idea.
MAN: Miss Girardi?
Yes.
Andy Rees. Style editor at the Herald.
Oh.
It's nice to meet you.
( chuckles ) Style? Uh-huh.
Do you have time for a few questions?
Questions, me?
Mm-hmm.
( chuckles )
Um... yeah.
Okay.
To style.
( chuckles )
MAN: Helen Girardi.
Helen Girardi-- isn't she that art teacher?
Do you think that's me?
Hey, guess what? Copernicus called,
said the world doesn't revolve around you.
( laughs sarcastically )
What a coincidence because the dork police called,
and they said they want their leader back.
It's official: I don't miss high school anymore.
( chuckles )
( laughter and snorting )
( snorting laughter )
Um, took a break for a while. Uh-huh.
Had the kids.
Didn't paint at all.
Except with ketchup.
( both laughing )
( snorting )
Psst, Dad.
You let her have red wine?
( speaking incoherently )
Well, I tried to steer her to the white,
but I got distracted by all the, uh, arty people.
Well, fix it!
Oh, there's... there's my family.
She's starting to point us out.
Anyone seen the paper?
I have a faculty meeting.
I want to read it before I go.
( chuckles ): Paper? Who reads the paper anymore?
HELEN: I want to see if my review
came out.
Where is it?
How bad?
Andy Rees
is a pompous jerk, Mom.
( sighs ): I'm... I'm a big girl.
"As for Helen Girardi,
"Arcadia High School's new art teacher,
"it is hard to imagine how this...
"neophyte
"has the courage to display her work in public,
"no less shape the young artistic minds of Arcadia.
"She seems influenced
"by a bit of Dada
"and, of course, Cezanne,
"but in her callow hands,
( laughs ): "Dada turns to doo-doo,
and the faux-Cezanne, leftist cr..."
It's just one lame critic's lame opinion.
Hey, you want me to shoot him?
'Cause I got my gun back.
( sobbing ): Just give me your gun. I'll shoot him myself.
Oh, God, I...
I teach class tomorrow.
My kids will have read this.
Mom, no, Mom, they won't, trust me.
Uh... high school kids only read under duress.
LUKE: Yeah, and high school
art students don't read at all.
Yeah.
( sniffles )
LISCHAK: And lastly...
( whoops )
It's a yo-yo!
Yo! Pretty simple to operate.
Nothing to do with chemistry, right?
What have we been talking about
for the past five months, people?
What about energy?
Potential, kinetic,
potential, kinetic
potential, kinetic.
Potential.
Ow! Kinetic.
( bell rings )
JOAN: So much for nipping it in the bud.
This has gone way beyond the bud.
No problem-- we escalate.
I vote for physical pain.
Violence begets violence, yo.
Back off, Siddhartha. You're out of their league here.
You have to go for the Achilles' heels: vanity.
What, like, spike their cosmetics or something?
Ask your brother what chemical cocktail
would make their hair fall out.
Whoa, whoa, wouldn't that involve breaking and entering?
My dad's a cop.
I could whip up a cartoon.
Kind of be, like, a social satire?
You'd do that for me?
I'd even sign it.
Yeah, the soapheads are really gonna get that.
She's in her underwear, dude.
( groans ) Bad underwear.
Okay, all right!
The humiliation part is good.
It has to be something doable.
And very mean.
( bell rings ) Conference call tonight.
We'll figure it out.
There were no skid marks.
The man obviously didn't try to stop.
You know how many accidents happen
because people hit the gas instead of the brake?
This guy wasn't on some killing rampage.
Did you get the vehicle report?
Brakes checked out.
There was no mechanical failure as far as I can see.
Somebody's got to take the fall for this, Will.
Either the county or the man who did it.
Roy... There has to be a reason.
Maybe he was angry about the changes to Medicare.
Grieving the anniversary of his wife's death?
So, if it's nothing more or less than human error,
we can't allow for that?
Not for a mess this big.
( laughter )
Is that me or some new life you're trying to ruin?
We just sent it to three people.
We can't control where it goes from there.
Is this some kind of sport, or more like ambition?
( chuckles ): Psycho.
Go bang your drum.
JOAN: Hey!
Yours is coming! It's only fair!
Give it your best shot!
Ha! When you least expect it!
Done!
The cornerstone of the practical joke.
Who knew you guys would get so good at being mean?
The Devil?
Go to the head of the class.
You should skip band practice this afternoon.
Why? I just started.
Laundry.
What? Your mother's behind
on laundry; hence, the bad underwear.
This you know.
Okay, and this You should know.
There are seriously weird
laundry rules in my house.
Like Mom won't let anyone touch it except for Dad.
He likes to do his own.
But we're talking serious dysfunction.
Surprise her. She'll be grateful.
Sometimes people need the choice
taken out of their hands.
Isn't that Your job?
No. This afternoon, it's yours.
Do the laundry.
Ha! You're the one who made us ashamed to be naked!
( soft chuckling )
Yeah.
Ooh, I should stop doing that.
( clears throat )
( grunts )
Oh.
( panting )
( grunts )
Oh,
this is bad.
I'm doing laundry.
Mom doesn't let
people do laundry.
Yeah, well, I'm taking the choice
out of her hands.
Joan, you're standing in the washing machine.
I'm improvising.
I can't be here all day.
That doesn't look safe.
( chuckles )
Like laundry is not safe?
Look, when I say go,
I want you to hit the "on" button.
What's the "on" button look like?
I don't know.
It should say "on." Well, it doesn't.
It says "whites" or "colors."
Uh... both.
There's not a "both" button.
Well, hit something.
Joan, there's...
Oh!
( gasps )
Oh! Oh!
No! No!
Luke! Press stop!
There's no "stop"! I don't know.
( gasps ) ( gasps )
Call 911!
Luke! Luke!
Luke! Luke! Luke!
Call 911!
( gasping, yelling )
Oh, my G...!
WOMAN ( over P.A. ): Dr. Cutler, to Labor and Delivery.
Here.
You can have this back.
Thanks.
It's just a sprain.
Keep the ice on it
and stay on crutches for a couple of days.
Crutches?
Unless you prefer hobbling.
HELEN: Uh, crutches.
Thank you.
Great.
I'm Tiny Tim.
HELEN: Okay, to start, no one
in the house touches my washing machine.
I was just trying to help.
It's bad enough to be called a bad artist.
I'm not a bad artist.
I'm just saying. HELEN: Okay,
Luke, what was your involvement?
I hit a button.
It was scientifically unsound.
Hmm.
I don't want you people in my laundry room.
JOAN: Mom,
too little, too late.
Now, I feel I have been clear
on this issue.
How about I meet you guys in the lobby, hmm?
Come on, Luke.
You know how to use these?
I know how to make electricity from sugar.
No, you don't.
You just memorized it for the test.
Why are you punishing me?
I haven't even done anything yet.
Yet.
Oh, wow.
So thoughts really do count.
Thoughts are things, Joan.
Oh!
And I don't punish people. You punish yourselves.
Hmm. You're so good
at it, I could almost retire.
Well, why don't you?
I like my work.
WOMAN: Dr. Greenberg, report to the OR...
You know,
it might help to think
of these things as distractions.
From what?
Yourself, ways you've been wronged.
( sighs ): Well, somebody has to take care of it.
Yes, perhaps someone who knows better
than to stand in a washing machine.
Ha!
You know, the more I get to know you,
the less I like you.
Oh, that is seriously screwed up.
Ibuprofen three.
Oh.
The directions on the bottle are wrong.
You should really learn to avoid unnecessary pain.
Oh, You...
You should really... learn how to...
pick on a supreme being your own size.
Go right in here. Okay.
I'm, uh, sorry you have to be here, Mrs. Kerr,
but we need to interview everyone involved.
It's all right... if I can help put that man away.
Okay, then.
I was with my kids.
They love the Farmers Market.
Amy is three,
and my little one, Jill...
...just started talking.
I was pushing her through the market,
and she was pointing, saying "apple."
( sobbing ): "Red apple."
I'm okay. Thanks.
She was pointing and laughing...
and that's when I heard the screeching of the tires.
I didn't have any time.
I turned around, and I saw the car.
I had to get out of the way.
I was holding Amy's hand,
but the stroller-- it tipped!
I tried to pull it, but it tipped...
And he ran over her.
He didn't even slow down.
He ran right over my baby.
( sniffles )
( door closes )
Do you want me to heat up some dinner for you?
No, thanks.
I ate something chicken-related at the station.
Oh. I gave blood.
They put a sticker on you. You forget to take it off.
It looks like you're cracking.
That was good of you.
Any more casualties?
Six isn't enough?
Oh, I hate the ones where there's no bad guy.
There's not?
Good citizen.
Conscientious objector.
Sat out Korea on principle.
Married 40 years.
( ice clinking in glass )
He hit the wrong pedal.
He shouldn't have been driving.
Andy Baker shouldn't have been driving.
You're the one who said,
"We're not going to sue a stupid kid for making a mistake."
I wasn't wrong.
I'm just saying.
( sighs )
Brings it all up again, doesn't it?
Yeah.
It travels all two inches above the surface.
The thing is, Kevin's still here,
and he's doing okay.
That's just luck.
I don't believe in luck.
That's all I believe in.
What are you? Chinese?
I'm a man with a paralyzed son.
Gee... what am I?
You're a woman.
We don't understand what makes you tick.
The heart, stupid.
You understand anatomy.
Good morning, everyone.
Um...
let's begin with some free drawing.
Uh, five minutes' worth, I guess.
Slammin' show,
Mrs. Girardi.
Um, thank you.
That critic is a wipe, yo.
Uh... so...
you read the review?
IRIS: Mm-hmm.
ADAM: Yeah.
Well, he's just doing his job, I guess.
He wrote that Rossetti was an impressionist.
Which is like saying Monet was a pre-Raphaelite.
Really? He wrote that?
Cha! He's a total poser, Mrs. G.
The-the-the establishment press is, like,
totally wack.
Look at Manet, uh, Lautrec, Van Gogh.
Yeah. Critics have this, like,
you know, great tradition of being totally clueless.
Well, that's true, isn't it?
But...
our job as artists is to...
press on,
continue creating,
'cause... that's who we are.
Um, even if some... critic does squash you like a bug...
That's who we are.
Let me tell you what I put in place.
First order of business: clear up old business.
I asked Friedman to put his nerd cells to use.
( grunts )
Okay, he's going to hack in and destroy the photo.
He knows how to replace your body
with Christie Brinkley's.
Pre-babies, like early '80s.
Now all we have to do
is narrow down our course of action.
Rove is against physical violence,
but I overrode him.
Yeah, apparently, it's like the UN.
Her vote counts for more.
Here are my ideas, in order of inspiration.
A: whoopee cushion.
Not evolved, but always effective.
B: water balloons on the morning bus.
Bad hair all day.
C: the classic trip-and-fall
with loaded trays in the cafeteria.
D: gum in the seat. E...
JOAN: Wait, wait, wait, wait.
You're losing me.
Retribution-- the oldest profession.
I thought that was farming.
( scoffs ): Listen to me: don't wimp.
Hey! I'm injured; I'm tired;
and I don't know if I can pull this off.
The beauty part, Joan,
is that your friends do it for you.
I'm your friend?
You're A's friend.
I'm about A.
Do you have to talk?
Is there, like, an "off" switch?
She's joking.
Yeah. Ring, ring!
That's my life calling.
It's just her voice.
Yeah, good luck with that.
It is!
Right.
♪ And he won't change his ways ♪
♪ And you're hanging on for days and days. ♪
( playing band tune unenthusiastically )
( playing out of sync )
( band stops playing )
All right.
Hold up, everybody.
Let's be honest now.
Have you ever played drums before?
No.
Then why are you here?
( sighs )
I really want to be in the band.
Hey.
Hey, what are you doing after school?
Oh, um, I have my other band practice.
You're in another marching band?
No, it's, uh, rock.
Well, it's, uh, alternative.
There's not really a name for it.
So, you play music for fun?
Is there another way to do it?
Yeah, but two bands?
I mean, I can't even do one load of laundry.
Well, you know, it's pretty easy
when you're the school piñata.
Getting dumped on is like fossil fuel.
I can't hit back, so I play music.
Why can't you hit back?
I'm not allowed. I'm Quaker.
Oh. Wait, like oatmeal?
Like weird outfits, like Richard Nixon.
Is God in that?
S-Sure.
So God kind of tells you you can't hit back?
Yeah.
I don't... I don't always understand
why He wants me to do the things that He wants,
but yeah.
Have you ever seen Him?
( chuckling ): No.
Have you? ( both chuckling )
What are you, Catholic?
No.
My parents are.
Oh, I was baptized, but, but I'm nothing.
But you... you've seen God?
I didn't say that.
Um, any-any time you want to talk about...
Oh, I don't. Okay.
Yeah, okay.
Um, I'll see you later.
Okay. Bye.
Huh.
Looks like you're all set to go.
Mr. Hansen?
How can I just leave?
I explained it to you.
We're not pressing charges at this time.
I know you did.
I'm not senile, for God's sake.
All I can say is,
how can I go home after what I did?
You feel bad.
I understand.
It would be simple if that was enough,
but six people are dead,
their families changed forever,
and no amount of remorse
or apology can change that.
Now, all you can do is walk out of here,
and try to face the rest of your life.
( stifled sob )
Uh, Jane, there's something you should know.
Ah, yeah, you're all about Baby Voice.
Yeah, I get it, okay?
I swear on my honor to tolerate it,
but only for you.
No, no, no-- the act of revenge, it's big.
I didn't do anything.
It's Friedman, okay-- the hired hit.
He hacked into Angela's diaries, spam e-mail.
Now she's hunting him down like a wild animal, okay?
He's hiding out in the cafeteria.
Come on.
This is gonna be better than a million love letters.
What is wrong with you?!
What?
You made my personal and private thoughts
a public spectacle.
You mess with scientists, my friend,
you're gonna get science.
You freak,
I want to kill you!
Le petit mort--
the little death.
I have some conversational French in my arsenal.
Laurie,
do you know what they did?
I know you said my hair's dyed.
It's not.
It's highlighted.
"From the diary of Angela... nobody.
"My breasts.
"I've obsessed about them,
"wanting them to grow enough
"to make a 'C' cup by prom.
"But today, I hate them.
"I hate my breasts
"because today, my mom told me
"she has breast cancer.
( Angela sobbing )
I'm so scared I can't..."
Stop.
Just stop.
( sniffling )
Ordinarily, I'd give you a back rub,
but I'm afraid my callow hands
might turn Dada into doo-doo.
So, we've moved on from the review.
Oh, yeah.
I, uh, did a bad thing today.
Tell me.
I made that little old man feel guilty
for killing people.
He didn't feel guilty enough?
Not for me.
You needed revenge?
For a baby in a stroller?
I kinda did.
God forgives it.
God?
The universe. Whatever.
( sighing )
I needed to hurt him.
More than he was already hurt?
Yeah.
Am I going to hell?
You don't believe in hell.
I believe in someplace...
where you aren't.
There's no place like that.
( knocking )
( sighing )
Adam. It's late.
It is?
Yeah. Come in.
Are you cold?
Do you want something to eat?
Uh...
I want to talk.
So, does it, like, hurt?
( groans softly )
Not so bad anymore.
You get used to it.
Did you know about Angela's mother?
( sighing )
No.
Did you?
No.
We're both behind this whole thing.
No. Friedman was.
Jane, we were.
Yeah.
We'll apologize.
I mean, that's enough, right?
I don't know.
Wow, this is
the most awesome sandwich I have ever seen.
Have it.
Bored with it already. It's too much chewing.
I'm not hungry.
Mmm.
( chuckles softly )
So, why are you here?
Iris is a good person.
I know.
( clears throat ): It...
it's just that her voice...
drives me crazy.
( chuckling )
It's her real voice.
( chuckling ): It drives me crazy, too.
( laughing )
♪ Time abides no bottle ♪
♪ Dreams sustain no pain ♪
♪ Tears have all their reasons to blame ♪
♪ And there's no time like the present ♪
♪ No dreams surpass what's real ♪
♪ And I believe... ♪
But you love her?
♪ ...in the way you make me feel ♪
♪ And so before another minute fades... ♪
I-I like her a lot.
♪ May I propose a trade...? ♪
And you want me to like her, too?
♪ If you give me what you have in your heart... ♪
No.
♪ I will love you all your days... ♪
But I want you to like me.
♪ Give me everything ♪
♪ I'll give you always ♪
♪ Give me everything, I'll give you always ♪
♪ Give in where you're standing... ♪
Adam, I don't just like you.
♪ The hardest part is over and done ♪
♪ Now, baby, there's no magic, no secret to reveal... ♪
Yeah. Yeah, me, too.
♪ Beyond the way your touch can make me feel ♪
♪ Though emotion may complicate the terms ♪
♪ I offer them the same... ♪
Good night, Jane.
♪ Unlikely words to say ♪
♪ As if you give me what you have ♪
♪ In your heart to give ♪
♪ I will love you all your days ♪
♪ Just give me everything, I will give you always ♪
♪ Give me everything, I will give you always ♪
♪ Give me everything, I will give you always. ♪