22 Jump Street Page #3

And we got some new

dumb-ass interns.

Hey, hey! Look alive! Huh?

Boys. Yo, jenko.

Hey, Schmidt!

Don't do that.

So, they want the same

sh*t, so here we go.

Same identities.

Same assignment.

We're going back to high school?

Your ass look like you about 50.

You're going to mc state.

We're going to college for real?

Somebody's out there, they're

cooking up a new drug.

It's Adderall mixed with ecstasy

mixed with God knows what else.

"Wipey"?

No, you dumb motherf***er.

"Whyphy."

Stands for "work hard? Yes.

Play hard? Yes."

Now, these kids take this sh*t,

and they get laser-focused for

about four hours of studying,

and then they party

like it's goddamn 1999.

Who's this?

That's Cynthia Watson.

She was a student at mc state.

She took some whyphy,

got locked out of her dorm,

ended up falling off the roof.

And now she's dead.

That's her buying

drugs on campus.

And that's the dealer.

Find him and we

find the supplier.

Sir, can I just say,

it is so refreshing to have

a case with a black victim.

I mean, we care so much

more because she's black.

I think what he's

really trying to say

is that we care equally.

It's a tie, really,

how much we care.

Uh... no, we're not. If it was a

white person, I wouldn't even care.

One less cracker-ass

cracker to worry about.

Why every time you speak I

want to throw the f*** up?

Infiltrate the dealer,

find the supplier.

You all right?

Yeah.

It's just...

I'm the first person in my family

to pretend to go to college.

Best part is we get

to do it together.

What's up, college?

What's up, bro? We're 322.

F*** high school, right?

F*** high school.

Oh, so tight!

Oh, this is so baller!

Beds... oh, sh*t.

Oh, dope. That looks like cum.

That's cum. Okay. All right.

Already got cum on

the mattress, Dawg.

Welcome to college. F***, yeah.

Hilarious shirt that

signals we drink alcohol.

Some bacon machine

that my mom got me.

I do not understand

how it works.

It's true.

Super high-tech police gear.

Carte blanche with the

budget, motherf***er.

I'm going to veto that poster.

It's a touch childish.

Okay. What do lambos have to

do with touching children?

Lambos are lame.

I get one choice. I get

one thing that I'm not...

We have to agree. You

know what I mean?

What up, fellas? We're your

across-the-hall neighbors.

Oh, hey, there's two of you.

You're twins.

What's up, man?

We're the Yangs, man. Kenny Yang.

What's up?

Keith Yang.

What's going on?

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