Most Likely to Die Page #3

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all over again.

- She's not my type.

- DJ.

I'm too much of a gentleman.

Anyway, Gaby, poor Ashley

just had to pick up the slack

after you became

an ice princess.

That's mean, dick.

Jeez.

Oh.

( All shouting )

What are you doing?

Not the chocolate-covered

raisins!

Stop, stop.

Okay, what's the matter?

Out of ammo?

Well, that's ugly,

no matter who she slept with.

( Engine whirring )

Gaby:
I mean, I

looked like a psycho

in front of, like, the 10th most

beautiful woman in America.

So you're a psycho.

Who cares?

You're our psycho

and we love you.

So this weekend

isn't just Campbell, no.

It's, like, Campbell and a sex kitten.

Did you know?

Please, if I'd known he was bringing

a supermodel, I would have told you.

And I also would have asked him

to bring a few more to share.

- Thanks, your support is really overwhelming.

- You're so welcome.

What are you doing?

- I'm currently a little low on funds.

- No way.

So it occurred to me

that it would a great service

to shoot the class reunion

and make it available for

downloads at a modest price.

Freddie, no one's going to pay

to watch themselves

act like idiots.

Mm-hmm,

but will they pay

to watch their friends

act like idiots?

- Maybe.

- Holy sh*t.

Who knew Freddie was

the class genius?

Just a knack for exploitation.

Now if you'll excuse me,

there are one and a half celebrities in

the hot tub, and that's worth money.

By the way,

sorry about your bracelet.

Did you lose a bracelet?

Sort of, I guess.

It was a poker thing.

I didn't really think

anybody cared.

What are you talking about?

Okay, maybe it's not

quite TV star cache,

but professional

poker player... sexy.

I bet you say that to all the girls,

Miss Most Likely to Slut It Up.

What? Most Likely

to Break Hearts,

thank you very much.

And anyway, it's all talk.

I'm a one-woman

woman now.

- Really?

- Yeah.

When do I get to meet her?

The reunion

tomorrow night, maybe.

Okay, hot tub calls.

You coming?

- No.

- What?

Yeah, I'm not gonna

play a hand I can't win.

Oh, Gaby, your loss.

God.

Brad:
Boom, boom, boom!

Shotgun fire everywhere.

And I'm supposed to get shot in the

chest and fall back into the glass.

And I have these squibs

with fake blood.

Except they go off early,

blood all over the floor. I

slip head first into the glass.

But of course it doesn't break,

knocks me out cold.

That's movie making.

- I'm shooting a movie.

- I did see that.

No, a real one.

I can get you the script.

It's about these four guys

who break out of prison...

Freddie, tomorrow. I'm

taking the day off, okay?

( Yells )

( laughing )

Sorry.

Sorry, guys.

( All chattering )

- Where's Gaby?

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