Goats Page #2

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You miss two, you're off the team.

Yes, sir.

Where are you going to go to college?

My brother Todd, he goes to Yale.

That's where I'm going. Yale.

- Are you serious?

- Is that guy homeless?

No. He's a botanist.

And a goat trekker.

Is he your dad?

No.

You're only supposed to be buttoned up

for the convocation, moron.

Welcome to Gates, boys.

Hi, I'm Barney Cannel,

Todd Cannel's younger brother.

Right.

Todd told me to tell you

that he very much enjoys Yale.

Thank you.

- And you're Ellis Whitman?

- Yes, sir.

Dr. Eldridge.

We're happy to have you at Gates.

Your father Frank and I were roommates,

you know,

and I was lucky enough

to run with him senior year.

My father ran for student government?

He was class president,

but I meant cross-country.

We were on

the cross-country team together.

How is he?

He's fine, I guess.

You look like him, you know.

Tell him to give me a phone call, will you?

- Yeah, sure.

- See you, boys.

Hey, I didn't know

Eldridge and your dad boned.

It's been 23 days

and four hours since I last got high.

The one kid I thought

was a stoner here

turned out to just be a slob.

There's no good Mexican food

in a 200-mile radius.

Goat Man's been incommunicado.

And when my classless,

Teletubby of a roommate

isn't whining about his grades,

he's copying my homework.

Sorry.

I shouldn't even be here.

Our secret.

You know that one girl

who works in the dining hall?

The one who Rosenberg says

is a prostitute?

That trashy townie chick?

She's always sneaking in the library

and using our sh*t.

Todd told me she is a prostitute.

She'll do juniors and seniors

for, like, 50 bucks.

Your brother's full of sh*t.

At least he's not a drug addict

who hangs out with goats all day.

Pot's not addictive.

Todd writes me and sends me letters.

Mr. Goat hasn't sent you sh*t.

His name's Goat Man, a**hole.

Whitman. Come here.

I thought we weren't supposed

to talk to each other out here.

Only if you're going to go jerk off.

Rosenberg's from Maui.

He's one of three Jews on the island.

He can't seem to get better than a C

in any of his classes,

but he's smart enough

to get his weed through airport security.

Man, I knew you were a stoner.

- How?

- I saw your High Times calendar

and Barney said you smoke up

with your gardener.

He's not my gardener. He's...

Mr. Rosenberg.

Mr. Cannel's roommate.

Enjoying a little cannabis, I see and smell.

Just me, sir. Rosenberg didn't have any.

He was actually trying to convince me to...

I'll deal with you later.

I need a moment alone

to talk to the tall one.

Keep it moving.

Well.

Looks like you'll be enjoying

cross-country after all.

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