American Pie Presents: Band Camp

Hey, Stifler, how come Steve

got all the talent in your family?

Bite me, F*ck Face.

Come on, man, you're missing it.

I've seen it a million times,

you fucking ass-booger.

Steve is like a filmmaking genius.

A true American hero.

The Tarantino of titties.

Yeah, there's just no way

you could ever be this good.

Hey, look, I'm going to prove to Steve...

that I'm up to the standards

of the Stiffmeister Productions.

After Steve sees my directing talent...

- little bro's joining the family business.

- Is that what he said?

- He finally called you back?

- No, but I left him another message.

He'll get back to me.

It's only been three weeks.

Gentle-fucks, a toast.

Tomorrow, we begin our reign as seniors.

Okay, people, let's take a break.

Remember, we play this at the end of

the ceremony after Pomp and Circumstance.

I don't want anyone starting

the wrong song again.

- Elyse, you need to relax, girl.

- I'm fine.

I just... You know,

it's my first time up here, and...

Yeah, but it's graduation.

It ain't the Boston Pops.

This performance sets the tone

for our senior year. I mean...

Look, you just remember

that everybody here is pulling for you.

Dork. Dork. Dork. Goose.

- I like them feisty.

- What're you doing here, Stifler?

We just want to say sayonara,

and let you f*ck-necks know...

we plan on winning the state title, now that

the Stiffmeister's running the show.

- Adios, butt-hugger.

- He's a bigger asshole than his brother.

Holy shit, Arrianna.

Matt, what're you doing here?

Oh, we just want to make sure

the seniors have a very memorable last day.

That's cool. So, there's a campout tonight...

and it's only for the grads,

but you could come.

Let me check my schedule. Hell, yeah.

Bring your sleeping bag,

in case we decide to pitch a tent.

Check it out. Perfect timing.

This is going to be classic.

Time to initiate

Operation Gradu-f*ck-uation.

This is gonna be awesome.

- Shit.

- Oh, yeah! Jackpot!

Payback, seniors.

Don't get that pepper spray on your hands.

A graduation gift from the Stiffmeister.

Dude, we should've sprayed

the diplomas.

Sorry, bandees.

Bite my nuts and call me Skippy.

It's a Steely Dan.

- A what?

- It's a double-headed dildo.

It's a dildo. It's a dildo.

- Holy shit.

- It's even got a name.

Picardo?

- Spray that shit.

- F*ck, no. Finders keepers.

Okay, everybody, Pomp and

Circumstance. Five-minute warning. Let's go.

The bandees. Let's get out of here.

- Matt?

- Leesy.

How they hanging?

Still small and perky, I see.

- That's funny.

- Yeah.

- What're you doing here, Matt?

- I just came by to wish you good luck.

- You know, on the whole music thing.

- Good luck?

You haven't said a word to me

since the eighth grade.

Yeah, and that tone of voice

is exactly the reason why.

So, I'm going to take off now.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please rise to honor our graduates.

Douchebag's gonna miss it.

Oh, yes.

Are they crying?

Holy shit!

Yes!

Eat shit, seniors.

Uh oh!

Stifler!

I've been waiting for this moment

for a very long time.

And now, the day of reckoning has come.

Hello, Matthew.

Your brother must be very proud.

You've continued his legacy.

Tormenting the innocent...

defiling all that is good and pure.

But now, you're going down.

What're you going to do,

expel me, Shermanator?

I am a sophisticated counseling machine...

sent back in time

to guide young and innocent minds.

My primary directive is to protect

the students of this institution...

and all, indeed all mankind...

from the menace that is another Stifler.

Behavior modification is required.

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