Bring It on Again Page #3

from an '88 Jetta|to a 2003 Passat.

Wow. I'm not about to|throw all that away...

over some brown-nosing|mediocrity named Marni.

Whittier might have what it|takes, but she's awfully raw.

That, dear, is why|you must mold her.

Shape her. Twist her|like Silly Putty.

If you make her|half as great as you are,

the national title will|stay here for years to come.

Remember the school|motto... Whatever it takes.

I can't hear you.|Whatever it takes!

Welcome to the team.

Welcome to the team.

Welcome to the...|Oh, uh, this is size four.

Is that gonna be too|small for you? Kidding!

Kidding!|Get outta here.

Welcome to the team.|Wait! This isn't a uniform.

These are towels. You're|very perceptive, aren't you?

But aren't I on the team?

Of course you're on the team.|As a towel girl.

It's an honor.

How is it an honor?

Say there is no towel girl. Say|Greg hoists Tina up into a cupie,

and there is no one|to towel off his sweaty hands.

Tina slips. Tina falls and-and|lands on her spinal cord,

and she spends the rest of her life|doing watercolors with her teeth.

Do you want that to happen? I guess not.

Hmm.

I didn't think so.

Man, these colors are hype!|I am never taking this off.

Even after you're dead|in the ground? Totally.

Congratulations,|my little pumpkins.

You have now joined the|best of the best of the best.

Here's Marni|with some light reading.

Now, study those rule books and|wear those uniforms with pride.

People|have given their ankles,

ligaments,|collarbones...

in service to those very uniforms|you have on your taut little bodies.

'Cause from here on out you|must be the "bomb diggity."

You must eat leaner,|train meaner, jump higher,

yell louder and out-pep|anyone who stands in your way.

You must brush better, floss better,|lather, rinse and repeat better...

In other words, you must be better|in every aspect of your life.

Are you ready for all that?

- Whittier?|- Uh. Uh. Uh...

I'm gonna catch you|guys later. All right.

Is...

- Is everything okay up there?|- Again. Four, five, six, seven, eight.

Is everything okay up there?

Hey, you're|the orientation guy!

Yeah, Orientation Guy|is my given name.

But, um, it's not my real name.|My friends call me Derek.

Well, hi, Derek.|I'm Whittier.

Whittier?|I like it.

- It's nice.|- Thank you.

- You want to do something illegal?|- What?

Do you want to do|something illegal? Shut up.!

Uhh. Okay.

Really?

What kind of girl are you?|Stop!

Whoa!

No way. No. You're a cheerleader.|You get thrown three stories...

in the air every day. Tina would|kill me if I sprained an ankle.

Who's Tina?|Our head cheerleader.

She's got rules against this kind|of thing. It's all in the manual.

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