I am fascinated by last words. Like Oscar Wilde who said, “Either that wallpaper goes,
or I do,” and then died. Or Humphrey Bogart, whose final words were “I never should’ve switched
from scotch to martinis.” James Dean said, “They’ve gotta see us”… Just before slamming
his Porsche into another car. My favorite last words ever, the French poet
Francois Rabelais, who said, “I go to seek
a Great Perhaps,” because that’s
what I was after too. Except I wanted to find
my Great Perhaps before I died. You’re okay. You’re okay. Is this why you wanna leave? No, honey,
it’s because of me. Miles has heard all the stories
about his father being quite the legend
at Culver Creek Well, notnot exactly. I mean, there are lots of
other places I could dream of going,
but you would have said no. But why do you have to
go now? That’s what college is for. I’ve told you why. ‘Cause of some
French poet’s last words, “The Great Perhaps”? What does that even mean? That’s what I need
to find out. See ya, Raisin. If he asks, I left for school. You are my witness. Alaska! Oh! I thought my mom would
never leave. So much crying, hugging,
and carrying on. Tell me about it. That’s why I drive myself, to get all the hugs and tears
out of the way. Do you wanna catch up
on the road? Coosa’s cashiers have
a shift change in 20, and trust me, we want
Gus manning that register. I can’t just let Paul
move me in on his own. Sure you can, Paul. You don’t mind finishing up while your lovely girlfriend
and I go pick up some sundry items. Only if she promises
to make it up to me later. What the fuck, Paul? She should not
have to leverage her body so you’ll be a good boyfriend. That kind of sexist bullshit
is why we need to dismantle the patriarchy. Jesus, Alaska, I said yes. It’s not just your words,
Paul. It’s what’s in your mind
and your heart. You think about that
while we’re gone. What the fuck? It’s your Da Vinci surprise. So you know
when I was there, we weren’t coed. You’re gonna
have girls there now. You know what STDs are? It stands for
sexually transmitted diseases, like gonorrhea or… Chlamydia… Herpes… Warts… It’s not just like
your finger wart, but other places. Really the best protection is just keep your pecker
in your pants, son. That’s right. Are you cool if I have
the room to myself for a couple hours tonight? May I ask why? Paul and I agreed if we stayed together
long distance all summer, then the first night back
we would have… the sex. You don’t have to
if you don’t want to. I want to. They grow up so fast.
You coming? I’m too chickenshit. This says you’re 28. I can’t believe it either.
Time, right? I believe it was the great
Theodor Geisel who said, “How did it get so late
so soon? “It’s night before
it’s afternoon. “December’s here
before it’s June. My goodness,
how the time has flown.” You might know him
as Dr. Seuss. Life goes fast. Ask me, it feels like
I was just in high school. ‘Cause you are
in high school? I wish. My adolescence would have
no doubt been greatly enhanced by the anesthetizing effects of
Coosa Liquors’ Strawberry Hill rosé. You don’t sound like
you’re in high school. And that, Gus,
is the whole point. This is right. No, we’re right.
Almost there. Only time for one more chapter. Looks just like it did
the day I left. It is beautiful. And you get used to no AC. Wait, there’s
no air conditioning? It’s not too late
to change your mind. We got you a fan. Sweat builds character, boy. Oh, check it out. The bell tower.
That’s the bell we stole. It took six of us to get
that sucker down before we buried it
in the cemetery. Still the greatest prank
in Culver history. Oh, hey.
I’ve got that, Mom. At least let me
fold your pants. No, I’m good. And don’t forget to call
every Sunday. Well, I don’t have
a cell phone. That’s what
the payphone’s for, pal. We are gonna miss you
so much. Can I help you make your bed? I’m good. I’m gonna be okay, guys. Promise. Hey! After the unpacking
comes the adventure, right? Right. You must be the new roommate. I see you decorated the place. Name’s Chip.
Chip Martin. I would shake your hand, but I think it’s best if you
just hang on to that towel. I’m Miles.
Miles Halter. Miles, as in,
“to go before I sleep”? It’s a Robert Frost poem.
Ever read him? No. Consider yourself lucky.
Oh, no one class me Chip. I thought you just said
your name Call me the Colonel. We’ll call you Pudge. Pants on, Pudge. That’s a unique way
of unpacking. Oh, let me guess. You must be one of those guys who can’t let your socks
touch your underpants. That’s not true. Oh, really? You got ten seconds
to surprise me before I write you off
as ordinary. Um… well, I know
a lot of people’s last words. Example. Henrik Ibsen.
He was a playwright. I know who Henrik Ibsen was. 1828 to 1906, considered
the father of realism. Never read him. But he had been sick
for a while, and his nurse said to him, “You seem to be feeling better
this morning,” and Ibsen said,
“On the contrary.” And then he died. That’s morbid.
I like it. Come on, Pudge.
We got shit to do. So you’re a reader, Pudge? Uh, biographies mostly…
or only. They’re my dad’s. My dad used to beat me
with my books, so I started carrying
paperbacks around the house, the odd novella,
all short and soft. That’s why I came here. So I can read longass books
without getting my ass whooped. Oh, hey, it’s the Colonel. What’s up, scrub? You grow this summer, bud? What are you,
four feet now? Hello, Longwell,
fellow shit rags. You know, I always said
there’s nobody better at cradling Kevin’s balls
than you. Why don’t you say that
to my face? I literally just did,
you human frat paddle. You wanna go right here?
Okay, come on, Kev. Come on. We both know the Colonel’s
not gonna put that scholarship at risk,
right? You’ll have to excuse them,
Pudge. It’s not their fault they had every goddamn thing in life
handed to ’em. Pudge?
What kind of name is that? I think it’s
supposed to be ironic. I’ll have you know I worked my ass off
this summer, valeted at the country club
and caddied. No golf cart either.
Wow. You know, you might be
the only person who could spend all summer in the sun
and somehow end up whiter. Is it possible to be
150% Caucasian? That’sthat’s…
that’s racist. Sleep with one eye open,
boys. Come on, Pudge. Um, it’s ’cause I’m skinny.
Never mind. You’re dead. Yeah, you sleep with one eye. Are they friends of yours? Weekday Warriors, rich assholes who leave
every weekend for their airconditioned
Birmingham mansions. They also the cool kids. I don’t like them.
They don’t like me. So if you came here
hoping to be hot shit, Pudge, you best not be seen with me. Come on. Miles Halter.
Orlando, Florida. Attendant of
Doctor Phillips High School. Interesting side note about
Doctor Phillips High School, named after a guy
named Doctor Phillips. Didn’t have a PhD or anything,
just as an adult, changed his name to Doctor. Welcome to Culver Creek, Miles. I call him Pudge. Ah, the Colonel
and his irony. How did you know all that? Takumi knows everything. Starting with
never let the Colonel rope you into helping him move. He’s immune to fatigue. His anger is
a renewable energy source. And you did make
a commitment. I did?
Time to get to work. Oh, shit.
Smile big, it’s the Eagle. The what? Mr. Starnes,
so nice to see you. How was your summer? It was terrible.
How are you, Mr. Martin? Great. Just exploiting
my roommate here for some manual labor, sir. Ah, well,
I expect nothing less. Ah, you must be Mr. Halter,
son of Walter. Our paths never crossed,
but when I was a student here, he was something of a legend. So he tells me. Your dad’s name is
Walter Halter? If you are hoping
to live up to his reputation, remember, you’re given a large
measure of freedom here. Abuse it and you will
regret it. You seem like a nice young man. As the dean of Culver Creek, I’d hate to have
to bid you farewell. Um, thank you.
You’re welcome. Mr. Starnes,
codename the Eagle, former student, current dick. When I first got here, the Eagle was just
a lowly history teacher till our prior dean,
Mr. Harris, dropped dead. Body wasn’t even cold yet,
and he was already moving in. They say it was a heart attack,
but I have my suspicions. You’re saying that
the Eagle committed murder to become
a school administrator? You saw his face.
It’s the stuff of nightmares. I felt like he was staring
into my soul. Next time you see that look,
you busted. Alaska calls it
“the look of doom.” Alaska? Our next stop,
’cause she has the cigarettes. You got money? Um, yeah, but II don’t
really smoke. Perfect, ’cause I do. There, done. Classy and sensible. That is me, Pudge.
That is me to a fucking tee. You ever hear three knocks,
it’s the Eagle. Always knock once. Oh, my God! Is that the Colonel? Get on in here! Ah! Ah! Alaska. Oh, soso get this.
What? Okay, first day of summer, I’m in grand ol’
Vine Station, Alabama… Exciting. I’m with this guy Justin. I’m sitting on his couch
watching TV. Mind you,
I’m already dating Jake, right? I’m still dating him,
miraculously enough. Oh. But Justin and I,
we’ve been friends since we were kids. So, we’re just sitting
on the couch, watching the The Office, talking about SATs
or something. So we’re just chatting. And I’m in the middle of
a sentence about analogies when all of a sudden,
he just honks my boob. No.
Just like that. Just like a muchtoofirm
two, three second honk. Can you believe it? And the first thing
I thought was “Okay, how do I extricate
this claw from my boob before it leaves
permanent marks?” And the second thing
I thought was “I cannot wait to tell
Takumi and the Colonel.” That’s crazy. You can let go now. Who’s this guy
not laughing at my story? My roommate,
Miles “to go” Halter, aka Pudge. Pudge memorizes
people’s last words. He also has money
for your cigarettes. Pudge, this is Alaska. She got her boob honked
this summer, which you are now well aware. You really memorize
last words? Yeah.
You wanna quiz me? JFK. “That’s obvious.” Oh, shit.
Is it now? Oh, no.
Those are his last words. Someone said,
“Mr. President, you can’t say Dallas doesn’t love you.” And he said, “That’s obvious,” and then he got shot. God, that’s awful. Nice meeting you, Pudge. Next time laugh at my story. Meet you boys in a few.
Uhhuh. You walk very quickly. Not everyone’s gifted with longass chicken legs,
Pudge. I compensate. You see that? Wow. Is that a swan? That swan is
the spawn of Satan. Never get closer to it
than we are right now. It will rip you
to fucking pieces. But it’s so beautiful. The dangerous ones
always are. Come on, go! Her name’s Alaska Young. She’s from Vine Station. You could drive past it
without noticing it, and from what I understand,
you ought to. And she mentioned
something about a boyfriend? Jesus. You touch one boob,
and you obsessed. His name’s Jake, college boy, handsome son of a bitch. He’s a feminist. She hasn’t cheated on him yet,
which is a first. Pudge, I’d like to welcome
you to the Smoking Hole. So, we’re allowed to smoke
down here? Of course not. That was a barelysmoked
Hurricane. That’s just plain ungrateful. Oh, I just can’t
get in trouble. My parents would kill me,
especially my mom. You’re gonna get in trouble. Now the question is,
what do you do when it happens? I’ll tell you
what you can’t do. Rat. I hate the Weekday Warriors
with a fiery passion reserved for dental work
and my father, but I would never rat on them. If you learn anything from me
today, Pudge, let it be this. Never, never, never rat. You got me? Are you sure? Yeah, I got it. This school is important
to people. It may look like a summer camp
patrolled by a killer swan, but to the people who go here,
it matters. Unfortunately,
we’ve reached the hour where I’m obligated
to see my girlfriend. Wait,
you’ve got a girlfriend? Don’t remind me.
I can’t stand her. But then again,
she can’t stand me. I guess that’s what I get
for dating a Weekday Warrior. Didn’t you just say
you hated them as much as dental work? I contain multitudes, Pudge. You coming? Wasn’t Alaska gonna meet us? I feel like it might be rude
if she showed up, and we were both gone. One boob, Jesus. It’s Alaska. Who the hell knows
what she’s gonna do. No. It’s still not good. Okay, Mr. Famous Last Words,
I have one for you. Okay. The General in His Labyrinth,
Gabriel García Márquez. You ever read him? It’s about Simón Bolívar. In the book, you know what
his last words are? No, you don’t,
but I’m about to tell you, Señor Parting Remarks. “He was shaken by
the overwhelming revelation “that the headlong race
between his misfortunes “and his dreams
was at that moment, “reaching the finish line. “‘Damn it,’ he sighed. “‘How will I ever get out of
this labyrinth?'” Those are some
seriously great last words. No shit. What do they mean? That’s the mystery, isn’t it? Is the labyrinth living
or dying? And which is
he trying to escape, the world or the end of it? I don’t know. And here I thought you were
the one who’s finally going to deliver me
the answers. We’ve only just met, and you’re already
disappointing me, Pudge. Have you read all the books
in your room? God, no,
but I’m gonna read them all. I call it my Life’s Library. Every summer
since I was little, I would go to
all the garage sales, and I’d buy all the books
that looked interesting, just so I would always have
something to read. But there’s so much to do,
you know? I’ll have more time for reading
when I’m old and boring. Hard to imagine
you’d ever be boring. You remind me a lot of
the Colonel when he first came to
Culver Creek. When we first met,
we were just a couple of scholarship kids
with a shared interest in… let’s just call it
booze and mischief. I’m interested
in those things too. And something tells me you haven’t experienced
a whole lot either, which is exactly my point. By Thanksgiving,
I got him his first girlfriend, and later that year,
we pulled our first prank. I provide the vision, and he provides
the militarylevel planning. So that’s how Chip became
the Colonel? You’re smart like him,
cute too. But I didn’t just say that,
because I love my boyfriend. Well, you’re much smarter
than both of us, and much more attractive. But I didn’t just say that,
because I love my girlfriend. Who does not exist,
because I don’t have one. Well, don’t worry, Pudge. If there’s one thing
I can get you, it’s a girlfriend. Let’s make a deal. You figure out
what the labyrinth is and how to get out of it, and I’ll get you laid… by a sexuallyliberated
intellectual equal, of course. Deal? Deal. When you’re walking at night, do you ever get creeped out and even though it’s silly
and embarrassing, you just wanna run home? Yeah. Totally. Run, Pudge! Shit. Get out, get out!
Come on. What, what’s going on? Are you serious? I knew something was up. Hurry up, hurry up! Go back to your rooms. The fuck are you looking at? This is bullshit, man.
Guys, come on. Go back to your rooms.
It’s late. This doesn’t concern you.
Let’s go. I’m sorry.
We didn’t meant to All right,
just go back in. Just go back inside
and get dressed, all right? I don’t get it. I mean, you’re good,
but you’re not that good. Somebody ratted. Expulsion’s gonna
be the least of your worries Who’s the rat?
I knew it was somebody! Alaska!
You’re not gonna believe it. Ms. Young, please go
help your roommate get packed. Paul, let’s go. Who ratted?
I know it was somebody! Was it you, man?
Paul. Who ratted? Was it you?
Was it? Yes. First official day of
classes, we’ve already
suffered casualties. Here’s what I know. I told you Takumi would know. Takumi always knows. Apparently,
Paul and Marya hit the Culver Creek
rule breaking trifecta. One, genital contact
while, two, smoking pot and, three, already drunk. Though, Paul was attempting
to use a condom, so kudos for being
sexually responsible. They are fucked. Well, they were gone
before the sun came up. No way the Eagle
just got lucky. I hate to agree with Paul,
but he wasn’t working alone. Oh, sorry. II did not mean
to take your seat. Oh, notnot mine,
never sat here before. Are you new? So am I.
Um, Lara. Miles. Call him Pudge. Oh. Did you hear about the students
who were kicked out? Marya is Alaska’s roommate. Was. Oh, what happened? I don’t know. But just to be safe,
trust no one. Old man only has one lung. Religion is important
whether you believe it or not. Just like history is important whether you’ve lived
through it or not. In my case, I probably have. This year, we will be studying
three religious traditions Islam, Christianity,
and Buddhism. We’ll tackle three more
next year. Gives me something to live for. My name is Dr. Hyde. You may be smart,
but I’ve been smart longer. Therefore, I will talk,
and you will listen. Our time together may be short, but we are engaged in the most
important pursuit of all the search for meaning. What is the nature of
being human? What is the best way to live? How did we come to be? And what will become of us
when are no longer? Maureen, you are a genius. Don’t I know it.
Every day, living the dream. What exactly is this? A fried burrito,
aka “bufriedo.” Invented by aforementioned
culinary genius Maureen, named by Alaska. You know, you can say a lot
of bad things about Alabama, but you cannot say that
the Alabamans as a people are unduly afraid
of deep fryers. Don’t eat that zucchini. Oh, my God. This is the greatest thing
I’ve ever tasted. That tastes so good. Nothing like seeing
a man eat his first bufriedo. Oh, you get any more intel? I did, but, uh,
I think it’s best if we talked privately. You guys don’t trust me? We don’t really know you, and chances can’t be taken
with this information. Whoa, whoa, whoa. You do not wanna put
that poison in your body, homeslice. But it’s so delicious. Kev, come on. Everyone needs to try a friend
burrito once in their life. Once? Why would I only have this
once? It’s all good, Miles. No, we’re just offering
some friendly advice, ’cause you look like
you could use some friends. You guys wanna be friends? We don’t want you falling
in with the wrong crowd. Yeah, you’re cooler
than those other losers. Really?
Yeah. I mean, from Florida.
That’s cool. Even Orlando? Well, look
you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t have
some ambition. You know what that means?
No. No, that’s right, because
you don’t speak Mandarin, global language of tomorrow,
but I do. That’s what we do here,
Miles, plan for the future. A person in your position
could be very helpful to us, letting us know what
the Colonel’s thinking and when he’s thinking it. Oh, so…so you want me
to be a rat? No, we’re just asking you
to do a solid for your friends. “A journey of thousand miles
begins with one step.” That’s the translation
of what I said to you. I meant it. Walk with us, son. We’re seniors, Miles. I mean, we gotta leave
this school to someone, and that could be you. I mean, I could just
stay out of it. You know, why pick a side?
I could be like Switzerland. I’ve heard that place
is really, really nice. Not possible, bro. Here,
everyone chooses a side. Come on, man. Why isn’t this water
coming out? I can’t wear this bullshit. Thank, God.
Pudge, it’s an emergency. I have dinner
with Sara’s parents. Please tell me
you know how to iron. I didn’t even know
we had an iron. We don’t. It’s Takumi’s, not that
he knows how to iron either. When I asked Alaska,
she started yelling, “You’re not gonna impose the patriarchal paradigm
on me.” The what? Alaska,
among her many qualities, is a third wave feminist. They have waves? Uh, Pudge, maybe you should
try and read some biographies of women. God damn. I need to smoke, but I can’t reek of smoke
when I see Sara’s parents. They smell like sandalwood
and money. One thing my lousy father
taught me was how to tie a tie. Which is odd,
’cause I can’t imagine when he’d ever
have to wear one. Too bad this tie is
so goddamn ugly. I bought you that tie,
you asshole. It was a birthday present. And one I will never forget. You must be Sara. Nice to meet you.
I’ve heard so much about you. Yeah, I can imagine. Can’t you at least press
your goddamn shirt? I freaking tried, okay? We can’t all have our maids
doing our ironing for us. Wow, Chip,
that chip on your shoulder makes you look even shorter. What difference
does it make, Sara? I could be wearing a tuxedo
with a little top hat, and your parents
would still hate me. Right, because you antagonize
them as you do all humans who walk the earth. Hey, you know what. Um, I’m so sorry
that this is your roommate. You deserve a lot better. He ain’t the only one.
Cute. Look, we either go now
or we’re not going. Fuck it.
Asshole. So, that’s Sara. She seems…sweet. Yeah. Neither one of us had
a lot of positive role models when it comes to
adult relationships. Are you drinking sour milk? It ain’t milk
well, not just. It’s five parts milk,
one part vodka. I call it ambrosia,
drink of the gods. You can barely smell
the alcohol, so the Eagle can never catch me
unless he took a sip. Only downside is, is it tastes like sour milk
and alcohol. But what the hell, Pudge? Gotta dull the pain somehow. You wanna try some?
Oh, no, I’m good. You gonna go get that? Hello?
Can you get Chip for me? Sara, yeah, hold on.
Yeah? Can we go now? Yes. I’m a bad boyfriend.
She’s a bad girlfriend. We deserve each other. Don’t wait up. Let’s go!
Now, Halter! Ouch!
Okay. Now! Don’t make us kick your ass! Okay, okay. Can I put some pants on first? That won’t be necessary. Move! Whoa!
Go! Oh, I get it. You’re gonna handcuff me
to the flagpole. Very funny. You wish, turd.
Come on. Come on.
Speed it up, guys. Oh, a good ol’ fashioned
dunking. Yeah, that sounds
really refreshing. Shut up, arms at your sides. Wait, why do I need
to do that? Isn’t that gonna make it
hard for me to swim? You had your chance
to be on our side. I told you,
I’m on nobody’s side. That means
you’re with the Colonel. And this is for him. No, no, no, no, no.
Don’t do that. Wait For what he did to one of us. Legs. Wait.
You guys, please! Please, guys, don’t! No! Wait, “Please, guys, don’t”
are terrible last words. Three! Oh, shit! Ah! You okay? Better than you. Someone go for a swim? Uh, it was less than a swim, more of a drowning…
the Weekday Warriors Yeah, well, you
better be tough now, Pudge. Mommy’s not here
to help anymore. Not for any of us. Where the hell you been? Oh. You got tossed in the lake. Culver Creek tradition. Attempted homicide is Culver Creek tradition? Don’t be dramatic. It happens to all the new kids. They toss you in, you swim out and try not
to wake your roommate. I couldn’t just swim out. Shit, you can’t swim, Pudge? Not without my arms and legs. They wrapped my whole body up. What? What do you mean? How? They plasticwrapped
my entire body. Jesus, you had to swim out
like a mermaid? Merman, but yeah. Shit. You could’ve drowned. They just supposed
to toss you in in your underwear and run. They said
it was because of you. They said that? Shit. Takumi was right. Right about what? Maybe you could tell me
what the hell is going on. Or I could just go talk
to the Eagle. No.
No way, Pudge. You are not a rat, and that is not how things
get dealt with here. Well, I’ve had it
with how things happen here. Andand what’s wrong
with Alaska? She was really mean to me. Yeah, well,
she’s moody, dude. I’m sorry, Pudge,
about everything. Turn off the lights. God damn it! Those bastards. Before they grabbed you
last night, they pissed in my shoes. Are you sure? Do you want
to smell it? Because if there’s
one thing I know, it’s the smell of warm piss
in my new shoes! It’s like my mom always said. “You think
you’re walking on water, when it turns out
you got piss in your shoes.” Do you have
a pair of flipflops or anything I could borrow? Hey, Pudge. Heard what they did
to you last night. Alaska’s pissed. Didn’t seem like it. Look, Pudge. You’re collateral damage
in a larger battle. One that’s been going on
since the beginning of time. Or since we were freshmen. It’s us versus
the Weekday Warriors. Usually it’s just
fun and games, but not after last night. Things have changed. What changed? They think the Colonel
is the rat. I can’t believe it. I mean, I hated
that dick weasel, but I would never rat on him. If they think
the Colonel’s the rat, then they’re dumber
than they look. Thank you. Probably one of those
pukashelled Backstreet Boys ratted and said it was me. Which is why
we need to figure out how to ruin
their shitty little lives. After class, we start drawing
up plans for a counterattack. Looks like
we’re going to war. I promise you, Pudge, they will regret messing
with one of our friends. Trust. Hey. Last night, I didn’t realize
how bad it was. I’m sorry. It’s okay. Do we still have our deal? Yeah. Miles?
Miles, what’s wrong? Why does
something have to be wrong? It’s not Sunday
I thought you were gonna call
on Sundays. Is that Miles?
What’s wrong? Nothing is wrong. He says nothing. It’s not Sunday. I wasI was just
calling to say thank you. For letting me go. For sending me here. He’s calling to say
how much happier he is without his parents. Oh, good. That’s not what I’m saying. I know, honey. I just hope you find whatever
it is you’re looking for. Your Great Perhaps. Um, II think I have.