American Pie 4: Band Camp

Hey, Stifler, how come Steve got all the talent in your family?

Bite me, Fuck Face. Come on, man, you're missing it.

I've seen it a million times, you fucking ass-booger.

Steve is like a filmmaking genius. A true American hero.

The Tarantino of titties.

Yeah, there's just no way you could ever be this good.

Hey, look, I'm going to prove to Steve...

that I'm up to the standards of the Stiffmeister Productions.

After Steve sees my directing talent...

- little bro's joining the family business. - Is that what he said?

- He finally called you back? - No, but I left him another message.

He'll get back to me. It's only been three weeks.

Gentle-fucks, a toast. Tomorrow, we begin our reign as seniors.

Okay, people, let's take a break.

Remember, we play this at the end of the ceremony after Pomp and Circumstance.

I don't want anyone starting the wrong song again.

- Elyse, you need to relax, girl. - I'm fine.

I just... You know, it's my first time up here, and...

Yeah, but it's graduation. It ain't the Boston Pops.

This performance sets the tone for our senior year. I mean...

Look, you just remember that everybody here is pulling for you.

Dork. Dork. Dork. Goose.

- I like them feisty. - What're you doing here, Stifler?

We just want to say sayonara, and let you fuck-necks know...

we plan on winning the state title, now that the Stiffmeister's running the show.

- Adios, butt-hugger. - He's a bigger asshole than his brother.

Holy shit, Arrianna.

Matt, what're you doing here?

Oh, we just want to make sure the seniors have a very memorable last day.

That's cool. So, there's a campout tonight...

and it's only for the grads, but you could come.

Let me check my schedule. Hell, yeah.

Bring your sleeping bag, in case we decide to pitch a tent.

Check it out. Perfect timing. This is going to be classic.

Time to initiate Operation Gradu-fuck-uation.

This is gonna be awesome.

- Shit. - Oh, yeah! Jackpot!

Payback, seniors. Don't get that pepper spray on your hands.

A graduation gift from the Stiffmeister.

Dude, we should've sprayed the diplomas.

Sorry, bandees.

Bite my nuts and call me Skippy. It's a Steely Dan.

- A what? - It's a double-headed dildo.

It's a dildo. It's a dildo.

- Holy shit. - It's even got a name.

Picardo?

- Spray that shit. - Fuck, no. Finders keepers.

Okay, everybody, Pomp and Circumstance. Five-minute warning. Let's go.

The bandees. Let's get out of here.

- Matt? - Leesy.

How they hanging? Still small and perky, I see.

- That's funny. - Yeah.

- What're you doing here, Matt? - I just came by to wish you good luck.

- You know, on the whole music thing. - Good luck?

You haven't said a word to me since the eighth grade.

Yeah, and that tone of voice is exactly the reason why.

So, I'm going to take off now.

Ladies and gentlemen, please rise to honor our graduates.

Douchebag's gonna miss it.

Oh, yes.

Are they crying?

Holy shit!

Yes!

Eat shit, seniors.

Uh oh!

Stifler!

I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time.

And now, the day of reckoning has come.

Hello, Matthew.

Your brother must be very proud.

You've continued his legacy.

Tormenting the innocent...

defiling all that is good and pure.

But now, you're going down.

What're you going to do, expel me, Shermanator?

I am a sophisticated counseling machine...

sent back in time to guide young and innocent minds.

My primary directive is to protect the students of this institution...

and all, indeed all mankind...

from the menace that is another Stifler.

Behavior modification is required.

It's not too late to change your future.

No, expulsion would be too easy.

I know the perfect punishment to fit your crime.

Since you have so much trouble with the band...

perhaps you should make friends with them.

No fucking way.

Either you learn to be more considerate or you will be expelled.

No football.

No parties.

No spring break.

No graduation.

No college.

No coeds.

Comprende?

Pack your bags, Stifler.

- You're going to Band Camp. - Band Camp!

Bullshit, trash.

All right, Steve! Valley Girls Gone Wild.

Fuck.

Told you Steve'd get back to me.

I mean, it was just a postcard...

but it gave me a great idea.

Look...

Steve's shit-head friend, Jim...

he married this freaking nympho band-geek, Michelle.

And he said all they do at Band Camp is screw 24/7.

Matt, buddy, you cannot screw band chicks. There are standards.

I'm not talking about screwing them, scrotum-breath.

I'm talking about videotaping them.

People love to see dorks doing that freaky shit on hidden video.

Bandeez Gone Wild. Steve's gonna have some competition now...

because little bro's joining the family business.

Yeah, Spy Chest.

Secret Video.

Hell, yeah.

Color night vision? I'll take it. Shit.

How about tomorrow? This is going be great.

Welcome to Tall Oaks 2005.

Let's hear it from Lloyd Memorial High.

L- L-O-Y-D!

L- L-O-Y-D!

- Mount St. Marie. - Mount St. Marie!

Mount St. Marie!

East Great Falls High.

East Great Falls!

East Great Falls!

And five-time defending Tall Oaks Cup Champion...

Beechwood Academy.

We're Number One! We're Number One! We're Number One!

Okay, settle down.

Now, as you know, each year...

one senior Tall Oaks composer is awarded...

a full scholarship to the prestigious Robards Conservatory.

Elyse, this is your year to win.

This year, Dr. Susan Choi, president of Robards...

will judge the compositions herself.

And let's not forget to welcome the Tall Oaks Camp Counselors.

If you visit our infirmary, Nurse Sanders will take care of your every need.

Okay, so let's work hard, and may the best band win.

You guys ready?

What the fuck?

Are you a rookie? You look lost.

Are you an asshole? You're hairy, and you smell like shit.

I'll ignore that kind of talk once.

We don't speak that way here.

Rookies are to wear their beanies at all times. Those are the rules.

And who made you the mayor of Geek Town?

I'm Brandon Vandecamp, senior drum major, Beechwood Academy...

and the president of the Tall Oaks Council.

Oh, and who are they, Mr. President? The First Lady and Vice Pussy?

Suits you well.

Golly, jeepers, thanks. Hey, you know, since I'm an official band geek and all...

can you guess what my favorite piece of music is?

- I have no idea. - The Nutcracker.

Step back, bitch.

Holy mother of Mozart.

This is bad.

You didn't know Jackie Chan was in the house, did you boys, huh?

Stop that. Stop that now.

Those knob-slobbers started it.

That's not true, sir. We simply reminded him to wear his beanie.

And then he viciously assaulted Brandon's genitals.

- That's a lie, you dick-snot. - Oscar, Jimmy, escort this man to see...

- the Macro. - The what?

- You're dead. - Now, gentlemen.

God, Brandon, are you okay?

You want to tell me what the hell you're doing here, Stifler?

It don't matter, Big O. He ain't gonna be here long.

- Bitch! - Get over here.

Macro gonna fuck your ass up, fool.

- What the fuck's a macro? - The Macro.

Morale And Conflict Resolution Officer.

I heard this one time, this kid went into that office...

a baritone and came out a soprano.

- Clarinet up the ass backwards, yo. - What?

Pussies.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Frankenstein. Scary stuff.

I am just a Boris Karloff nut.

- I'm the Macro, Mr. Levenstein. - Holy shit, you're Jim's dad.

He screwed that redheaded nympho chick at my lake house.

- Oh, my, you're not a Stifler? - Yeah, I'm Steve's brother, Matt.

- There are two Stiflers? - Yes, sir. Hey, what're you doing here?

Oh, well, Jim is now out of the house, married to Michelle...

that redheaded nympho chick that you spoke of.

And, being a former Tall Oaks Counselor of the Year...

she was hired to be the Macro this summer, but she got pregnant.

No doubt due to the tendencies you alluded to earlier.

And I have a great rapport with young people...

so I just stepped in and volunteered.

That cretin is not in our band, and we are not responsible for his actions.

- Who pissed in your piccolo? - I'm sensing some hostility here.

- He poisoned my band. - What?

- I'm the Macro and it's my job to deal with... - What is he doing here?

- Matt Stifler is pure evil just like his brother. ... conflict.

Thanks, Leesy.

She seems nice.

There are rules, of course.

- You will have to wear a beanie. - Yeah.