ACT THREE
FADE IN:
EST. KENNEDY HIGH PARKING LOT - AFTERNOON
SUPER: Friday
Classic yellow school buses are lined up at the curb.
Students are milling around, and luggage is being loaded.
CUT TO:
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY
Krupps and Osbourne, walking down the hall.
KRUPPS
I just feel terrible about giving
you the short shrift this week,
Erick. I've been completely
swamped.
OSBOURNE
Of course I understand. I'm still
hoping to talk to you about this
student of mine—
KRUPPS
Well, the Board's reach doesn't
extend to the ski resort, I'm happy
to say. We'll have plenty of time
to chat this weekend.
OSBOURNE
Err... I'm not going on the trip,
Mr. Krupps.
Krupps stops walking and looks at him, surprised.
KRUPPS
You're not?
OSBOURNE
Skiing is not one of my...preferred
activities. And I believe you
already have the requisite number
of teacher chaperones?
KRUPPS
True, true. Well, I won't have
my people taking a vacation they
won't enjoy, so...have a pleasant
weekend, Erick.
OSBOURNE
You, as well, Mr. Krupps.
As they walk on, Miss Glass appears from around a corner,
looking satisfied.
CUT TO:
INT. CHEMISTRY CLASS - LATER
Miss Glass and Sam are having a powwow.
GLASS
The good news is, Osbourne still
hasn't had a chance to blab to Mr.
Krupps.
(pause)
What's he going to say, anyway?
SAM
(bluntly)
He's going to tell him that I'm a
drug user.
Immediately Miss Glass convulses with laughter.
GLASS
You! A druggie...!
(sobering)
You know, that just crazy enough,
he might believe it.
(pause)
So...it's just a lie Brooke McQueen
came up with?
Sam eyes her coldly.
SAM
You said you didn't care.
GLASS
(frankly)
You're right, I don't
(pause)
So, what do you think of my plan?
SAM
I think it stinks.
GLASS
(indignant)
What? Listen, little missy,
that's a time-tested classic!
SAM
Yeah, a time-tested classic
FAILURE!
GLASS
Hey, you almost sank your
journalism teacher without even
trying!
Sam's expression sours; obviously she doesn't like to be
reminded of that.
SAM
And Nicole tried it on Mr. Krupps
and it totally backfired on her.
GLASS
(lazily)
Let me tell you something about the
late, great Nicole Julian,
McPherson. She like to act big—
the chic clothes, the high-and-
mighty talk. Underneath it all,
she was strictly Amateur Hour.
You? You're Prime Time. Our
Fearless Leader has that pegged,
at least.
SAM
I'll still bomb faster than an ABC
reality series if I try this.
GLASS
Would you get with the program?
All you have to do is get close
to Osbourne—
SAM
—and get him into compromising
positions. Right.
GLASS
No, no, weren't you listening?
Just compromising-LOOKING
positions. You know—fall into
his lap, trip and let him catch
you...stuff like that. Meantime,
yours truly will be there to snap
the incriminating pictures—
(mimics using a camera)
—and voila!
SAM
(caustic)
Yeah, voila, you're fired and I'm
expelled. That happens about five
seconds after I accuse Mr. Osbourne
of sexual harrassment, with your
convenient photos as, quote
unquote, proof.
Miss Glass jumps up and leans over the back of her chair.
GLASS
That's the beauty of it! The
photos surface anonymously, and
YOU—DENY—EVERYTHING!
SAM
Huh?
GLASS
You say it's all innocent—you fell
into his lap, you tripped and he
caught you. Osbourne, he'll know
you're telling the truth.
(grinning evilly)
But if you do it just right,
everyone else will think you're
lying to protect your favorite
teacher. They might even think
he's blackmailing you. Either way,
you're the innocent victim, and he
goes down like a block of cement in
the harbor.
(pause)
NOW what do you think?
By this time Sam is wearing her own predatory grin.
SAM
I think it could work.
GLASS
This weekend. He's not going,
you're not going—it's perfect.
SAM
(frowning)
Wait—you ARE going. Who's going
to take the pictures?
GLASS
No problemo. I'll fake sick.
Miss Glass clearly enjoys the expression that that produces on
Sam's face.
GLASS (CONT'D)
You don't really think only kids do
that? You are such a babe in the
woods, McPherson.
She straightens up, goes to the door and opens it.
GLASS (CONT'D)
You'd better get cracking on a way
to get together with Osbourne.
Sam obligingly walks out of the classroom.
CUT TO:
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
Sam makes it about half a dozen steps down the corridor when
Mr. Krupps comes up from behind her.
KRUPPS
Sam! I've been looking for you!
SAM
Uh...Mr. Krupps?
KRUPPS
(concerned)
I understand you don't intend to
go on the ski trip?
SAM
Well...uh, no, I'm not.
Krupps sounds positively crushed.
KRUPPS
Why not?
In the face of Krupps' questioning, Sam seems less indifferent
than before. Not helping matters any is the sudden appearence,
over his shoulder, of Miss Glass, motioning frantically yet
completely incoherently.
SAM
Uh...well...I have a ton of work.
At the paper.
KRUPPS
They actually told you to work this
weekend?
Unfortunately for her, Sam is too frazzled to out-and-out lie.
SAM
Well...no...but—
KRUPPS
Great, then you can take a couple
of days off! You need to think of
yourself, Sam. Working all the
time isn't healthy.
SAM
(thinking)
But, um... Oh! I didn't get a
permission slip signed. Darn.
KRUPPS
(shaking his head
paternally)
Sam, Sam... I know very well that
you're living on your own, as much
as Josh and Lily Ford are. You
don't need a permission slip.
Another objection shot down. Desperate, Sam tries once more:
SAM
I bet there isn't a seat left on
any of the buses anyway.
Krupps makes a "pshaw" motion with his hand.
KRUPPS
Why would you want to be on a
rickety, overcrowded old bus?
You'll ride up in my car. Now—how
long will it take you to pack?
Defeated, with a fatalistic glance at Miss Glass, Sam
capitulates with a smile.
SAM
Half an hour?
KRUPPS
Excellent! I have to take care of
a few more things here. Why don't
you meet me in the parking lot in—
(checks his watch)
—twenty minutes? I'll drive you
home, you can pack, and we'll be
on our way.
SAM
Sure, Mr. Krupps.
Satisfied, Krupps walks away, rubbing his palms together. As
soon as he is out of sight, Miss Glass comes rushing forward.
SAM (CONT'D)
What was I supposed to do? Flat
out say no?
GLASS
Okay, okay, don't worry about it.
We might just have to postpone our
little operation.
(thinks)
Or... I've got an idea. Gotta
run.
She takes off before Sam can protest.
FADE OUT.
END OF ACT THREE