The Sure Thing

Male singer: Early in the morning, I can't sleep.

I can't work and I can't eat

maybe I'm lucky, maybe I'm freed

maybe this woman's just all I need

oh, no, not again

it hurts so good, I don't understand

infatuation

infatuation...

Infatuation

infatuation...

Infatuation

infatuation...

Infatuation

infatuation...

Infatuation

whoo! Infatuate me!

Man: Consider outer space.

You know, from the time of the first NASA mission,

it became evident that being in space

has a profound effect on the human psyche.

Now, during the first gemini mission, some thought was actually given

to the notion of sending up a man and a woman together.

- Really? - Mm-hmm.

A cosmic Adam and Eve if you will.

Bound together in a highly sophisticated nerve center

at the head of the largest, most powerful rocket yet known.

Its giant thrusters blasting into the dark void

as they hurtled towards their final destination...

The gushing wellspring of life itself.

How would you like to have a sexual encounter so intense

it could conceivably change your political views?

- Would you like to dance? - Yes, please.

I'll take that as a no.

Male singer: Heart of rock 'n' roll is still beatin'...

Johnny! Ow!

- Man: Consider outer space. - What?

Man: Private Gibson! Incoming!

Hey, what is this "lonely man sitting on the hill," huh?

It's over, Lance.

It's gone. I've lost it.

High school. I started off so hot.

Sophomore year, two times.

Junior year was excellent... Four times.

And not all with the same girl.

Senior year looked like the best.

First day of classes, then nothing.

What do you mean nothing your senior year?

What about that time with Barbara devilbiss in the high-jump pit, huh?

That was you.

Oh, yeah.

I just can't motivate myself the way I used to.

Maybe I'm past my prime.

Hey, it's not you.

It's these high school girls here.

They're simple.

They're never gonna stimulate a complex guy like you.

- Maybe you're right. - Of course I'm right.

Anyways, after tonight you'll never have to deal

with these simple high school girls again.

But won't these same girls be in college?

Yeah, but it'll be different.

- Why? - Because they'll be college girls.

I'm gonna miss you, Lance.

It's your own fault, you know.

You could be coming out to California with me.

Hey, all right.

Get a totally bitchin' education out there, dude.

California.

You could be coming to new England with me, you know.

Ugh. What are you, crazy? The Ivy league stinks, man.

All they got there are those ugly, intellectual girls

with band-aids on their knees from playing the cello.

- No, thank you. - Really gonna miss you, Lance.

- Well, we're college men now. - Yeah.

Gibson: "Dear Lance, the campus here is beautiful."

I've never seen so much corduroy in one place.

Classes are classes. One of them even looks like it might be interesting.

You never know.

You're wrong about the women here. I haven't seen one band-aid.

In fact, there's plenty of action.

My roommate and I have an understanding.

Hope things are going as good for you.

"Your pal, gib."

"P.s. All of the above is bullshit.

I'm floundering in a sea of confusion and total despair.

But knock on wood, I still have my health."

This week's assignment is to rewrite last week's assignment.

Remember, "as the dog returneth to his own vomit,

so does the fool to his folly."

Sorry I'm late, but there was this big problem.

And I'm late because of it.

Professor: Um, Katherine...

Now when I told you that you should develop your own style,

I didn't mean you should dot the I's with little flowers.

And this lavender ink, would you... Would you lose that?

It strains the eye, you know?

You sure take a lot of notes.

Professor: Ms. duran, this is very, very interesting.

Ordinarily the conclusion comes at the end of the paper, but...

- Yeah, I like that. - Duran: Thank you.

Go on. Um, Gibson.

- Mr. Gibson...? - Yes, what?

Well, I know what an important part voyeurism plays in your daily life,

but, would you mind if I take up a moment of your time?

- Sure. - Thank you.

I wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed your paper.

- You did? - Yeah.

I don't remember the last time that I have seen

this much detail expressed on how to eat pizza

without burning the roof of your mouth.

Unfortunately, whatever whimsical qualities that your paper evokes

are obscured in a morass of marginal grammar,

creative spelling and... I believe, sausage stain.

Pepperoni.

Clean it up, Gibson.

Miss bradbury.

You, on the other hand, you express your ideas very clearly.

Thank you.

Except that your paper is...

Well, it's dry.

There's not enough of you coming through.

Loosen up and have some fun.

Yes, sleep when you feel like it, not when you think you should!

Eat food that is bad for you at least once in a while.

Have conversations with people

whose clothes are not color coordinated.

Make love in a hammock!

Got it!

Life is the ultimate experience.

You have to experience it in order to write about it.

- Yes, Alison? - What did you say after "hammock"?

- I warned you. - All right, now.

You're a dead man. You're dead meat. Gonna be hearing some footsteps.

Set, hike!

One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.

Gibson, all pro-safety out of grambling,

makes another sparkling defensive gem.

- I thought grambling was all black. - So what?

- Hey, what are you doing tonight? - Gibson: Tell you what I'm not doing...

Staying in and rewriting my English paper.

I have a social life, you know.

Oh, that's right. I forgot. You gotta go to a mixer.

Stand in the corner for three hours and not ask anyone to dance.

No, it's the girls at this school. All they want to do is stay indoors,

smoke cigarettes and "relate." I don't like 'em.

Why do you have to like 'em?

You're dead meat.

What does Taub mean I have to "live life"?

In high school, I was delegate to the mock u.N.

In New York City, twice.

When I was nine, I broke my brother's nose boxing.

On a tour of Graceland, I passed out in Elvis' bedroom.

I think I've done my share of living. Haven't I?

What do you think of that guy, gib?

I don't.

I think he's got a cute ass.

- Him? - Yeah.

Oh!

Gibson with the interception, and he's got some running room!

He's to the 30, to the 40, and run out of bounds in midfield

by jimbo marcavicci.

That's Gibson's ninth interception in this very young season.

He's having an outstanding year.

Life's the ultimate experience.

Forget it, Gibson. I hear she likes the intellectual type.

So? I'm intellectual and stuff.

You're flunking English. That's your mother tongue... and stuff.

The only way she'd go out with you is out of pity.

Mastin, you're a genius.

Stop and go, on one.

Break!

- Both y'all are dead. - Ready, down, set.

Hut one, hut two, hut three.

Jim: Watch it, now!

One-one thousand, two-one thousand, three-one thousand.

- Yeah, yeah, go! - Nice d, nice d, nice d!

Mastin: Go, go, go, go! Hey, hey!

- Gibson! Gibson, come on! - Where you going?

- Hey! - Gibson, the ball!

I'm flunking English. I was wondering

if maybe you could help me out.

Nice swimsuit.

I flunk English, I'm outta here.

Kiss college goodbye.

I don't know what I'll do. I'll probably go home.

Gee, dad will be pissed off.

Mom will be heartbroken.

If I play my cards right, I get maybe a six months' grace period

and then I gotta get a job and you know what that means.

That's right. They start me off at the drive-up window

and I gradually work my way up

from shakes to burgers, and then one day my lucky break comes.

The French fry guy dies and they offer me the job.

But the day I'm supposed to start, some men come by

in a black Lincoln continental and tell me I can make a quick $300

just for driving a Van back from Mexico.

When I get out of jail, I'm 36 years old.

Living in a flophouse.

No job, no home, no upward mobility,

very few teeth, and then one day they find me.