Better Off Dead...

Get... Get...

Up!

You missed!

You missed this time,

you little menace!

I beat you!

Morning.

Honey, you're getting

all upset over nothing.

- I'm not getting...

- Here.

A nice breakfast

will cheer you up.

I am not

getting upset over...

- What is that?

- It's bacon.

I know it's bacon.

What have you done to it?

You said you didn't like

all the grease from fried bacon...

so I boiled it.

What is Lane doing up

at this hour on a Sunday?

Doesn't he turn to dust

if the sun hits him before noon?

It's tryouts

for the high school ski team.

He's going up

to Mt. Brody with Beth.

Sure he's going up with Beth.

He can't do anything

without that girl.

I tell you, Jenny,

that boy is obsessed.

Now, honey...

obsessed?

Do we not throw things away

when they're empty?

What in the name

of all that's holy...

Badger likes the prizes

you can get...

from cutting the coupons

from the boxes.

He's mailing them today.

Can't you wait until the...

Lane, a closet door can be closed

as well as it can be opened.

Sorry, Dad.

Dear, your breakfast

is getting cold.

It's all right, Mom. I can't

have breakfast today. I got tryouts.

Nervous stomach. Don't wanna

throw up from the chairlift again.

Had to buy that guy

a new hat last time. Bye, Dad.

Memorandum. I would like to

take a meeting with you tonight...

to discuss that vehicle

you purchased several months ago...

yet has darkened our driveway,

immobile, ever since.

Okay, Dad. Noted.

Talk to you tonight.

I gotta pick up Beth.

Ricky.

Don't be so shy. Come on.

Monique, this is Ricky.

Ricky, this is Monique...

the French foreign exchange student

who'll be staying with us.

It's an awesome spectacle...

and a vicious display

of seething opponents...

once again paralleled

in an obstinate attempt to prove...

superiority of the roads

unequal in our lifetime.

The crowds swell with anticipation

as the lights turn green!

You stupid bonehead!

I'm gonna activate your dental plan!

Come here, you idiot!

Get out of this car!

If he asks me out,

of course I'm gonna go out with him.

I mean, he skis the K-12.

Yeah. He's so boss.

I'll tell him after tryouts. You

know how he gets when he gets upset.

Yeah. From the chairlift.

He had to buy the guy

a new hat last time.

Lane's here. I gotta go.

I'll call you later. Bye.

He's the only person

in Greendale...

that's ever skied the K-12

from the glacier and lived.

Man, what a hunk.

Listen up.

Your running time has to be...

under 58 seconds to even

be considered for the team.

Your time will be gauged

along with a rating...

of one to ten on your style,

which will be judged solely by me...

and my vast expertise

of skiing technique.

Why don't we have you sorry-looking

lot of hopefuls make your way up.

You future members of the girls'

ski team can all keep me company...

until it's time

for you to take the track.

- Who'd like to hold my clipboard?

- Me! Me!

You'll make a fine little helper.

What's your name?

- Charles De Mar.

- Shut up, geek.

- What's your name?

- Beth.

That's my favorite name.

- Buenos das. Roy Stalin.

- Hola. Lane Myer.

I can see you and I

share one common desire...

the desire to be a part

of the well-oiled machinery...

that is the Greendale

High School ski-racing team.

- The desire for victory.

- Well, I...

Right on! Get up there,

and let's see what you got.

- Ready up there?

- Yeah. We're all set.

What is the next victim's name?

"Myer. Lane Myer."

Is that as in Oscar Mayer?

That's a roger, dude.

You were standing with Oscar.

Is he your main wiener man?

Don't listen to Stalin, kid.

He's a punk.

Now, you show 'em, Rock.

You show 'em how a skier

really skis.

- We're sending him down.

- That's a roger. Counting down.

Drei, fry. Go!

Too bad. Real close. Next.

Listen. I think we should talk.

We've been seeing an awful lot

of each other lately...

and I really think

it's in my best interest...

if I went out

with someone more popular...

better looking,

drives a nicer car.

Six months! Six months,

and she dumps me for him.

For Stalin. Just like that.

Six damn months!

Truly a sight to behold...

a man beaten.

The once-great champ...

now a study in mawkishness.

No longer

the victory-hungry stallion...

- All right.

- We've raced so many times before...

but a pathetic...

washed-up, aged ex-champion.

Let's go!

Someone's gonna see God.

I'm gonna break

your goddamn neck!

Get outta the car!

Get outta the car!

Hello. How was your day?

- Beth broke up with me.

- That's nice.

We're through. That's it.

What the hell?

Wait a minute here.

Wait. This is death here.

I haven't even been

to New York City.

Jesus. I haven't

even been anywhere.

Suicide is never the answer,

little trooper.

Greendale is a bodaciously

small town.

It's a flyspeck on the map...

a rest stop on the way

to a ski slope.

I can't even get real drugs

here.

Stalin's a hero, the only one

in this town who can ski the K-12.

You're a great skier,

but he's incredible.

What if I ski the K-12?

You think she'd take me back?

I'm back to suicide again.

I think we're all going

to enjoy this little treat.

I got the recipe

from the Ladies'HomeJournal.

The mail got wet in the rain,

so some of the pages ran together.

But what I couldn't read

I improvised with my own ideas.

You see, it's got raisins in it.

You like raisins.

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