EXT. MILLARD HIGH -- DAWN
The school stretches out before us, slumbering in the overcast morning
Along the front sidewalk, a lone JANITOR trundles a garbage bin filled
with overstuffed hefty bags.
A weathered FORD ESCORT pulls into the empty PARKING LOT and comes to
a stop near the athletic field.
A TEENAGE GIRL'S VOICE -
None of this would have happened if Mr.
McAllister hadn't meddled the way he
did. He should have just accepted
things as they are instead of trying to
interfere with destiny. You see, you
can't interfere with destiny. That's
why it's destiny. And if you try to
interfere, the same thing's going to
happen anyway, and you'll just suffer.
JIM MCALLISTER, a teacher in his mid to late-thirties, emerges from
the car in running clothes and carrying a briefcase, gym bag, and
coffee mug. On his way to the field, he crosses paths with the
Lowell nods, hoists a bag and tosses it into a dumpster.
EXT. ATHLETIC FIELD -- DAWN
JIM CIRCLES THE TRACK, sweating and panting.
ON THE GROUND JIM does sit ups
He collapses onto his back. His head rolls to one side, and he
glances past the fence at --
THE PARKING LOT:
Where a second CAR is just arriving. JIM watches as TRACY FLICK, a
junior, and her MOTHER get out.
The mother helps remove a CARD TABLE and a big plastic sack from the
trunk before Tracy heads toward the school.
JIM turns his gaze toward the sky, closes his eyes, sighs.
INT. BOYS' LOCKER ROOM -- DAY
Naked in the showers, JIM pumps liquid soap from the wall- mounted
INT. HILLARD HALL DAY
THE LEGS OF A CARD TABLE - as Tracy spreads them open and locks them
STICKS OF GUM from a Plen-T-Pack are emptied into a FISHBOWL-
SCOTCH TAPE is wrapped around the end of a pen to attach a piece of
INT. BOYS' LOCKER ROOMDAY
AT THE MIRROR:
JIM adjusts the knot of his tie, notices a little shaving cream in his
INT. MILLARD HALLDAY
FOUR CLIPBOARDS with pens and lined sheets of paper are being placed
in a row like little soldiers. The top of every sheet reads "Tracy
Flick for President: Official Nomination Signatures."
INT. FACULTY LOUNGE -- MORNING
AT THE REFRIGERATOR
JIM tries to place his lunch inside, but the shelves are too crammed
with old take-out containers. He opens one and smells it. Disgusted,
he drags a garbage can over and begins throwing things away.
Lowell appears in the doorway wheeling his squeaky maintenance cart
and watches JIM conduct his purge as A CHINESE FOOD BOX misses the can
and rolls on the floor.
INT. MILLARD HALLWAY -- DAY
Tracy is seated behind her card table strategically placed near the
school's main entrance. A sign taped to the wall behind her reads,
TRACY FOR PREZ. SIGN UP FOR TOMORROW, TODAY! She checks her watch,
JIM walks around the corner whistling vaguely.
Good morning, Mr. McAllister.
Not wasting any time, are you, Tracy?
You know what they say about the early
Yes, I do.
An awkward moment passes between them.
Well, good luck there, Tracy
Thanks, Mr. M.
AS JIM turns and walks away, Tracy watches him. He stops and picks up
some litter, tosses it in a nearby garbage can.
No matter what he says, Mr. McAllister
had it out for me from the start. Oh
sure, he was all smiles and good wishes
and everything, but underneath he was
just as unfair and petty as anybody