Orange County Page #3

Youre just gonna have to go somewhere | closer to home. Thats all.

And you get to keep living here...

with Lance and Bob...

and me.

Okay, and are you | a student here?

Yes, Im a student here.

Im Shaun Brumder. | Im the class president.

And you didnt get into Stanford? | Too bad. Tough break.

Where else did you apply?

Nowhere. You told me | I was a shoo-in.

Nowhere. Not even a safety school?

You said shoo-in.

Calm down. Lets see what we can do.

Looks here like your GPA is-- | What, 2.5?

And your S.A.T.s combined are 940.

Thats low.

940? I had a 1 520.

It says 940.

Thats not my transcript. | Thats Shane Brainards transcript.

- And you are? | - Shaun Brumder.

You didnt?

You couldnt have.

You sent in the wrong transcript?

Whats up, Shane?

Hey, guys, I got into Stanford.

Cool.

I applied as a joke, | and they let me in.

Im freakin out.

- I didnt. | - Yes, you did.

- I didnt. | - Yes, you did!

You just dont throw accusations | around. This is nobodys fault.

Yes, it is. | Its your fault!

Youre screeching at me.

Because you are a moron! | Now listen to me, lady!

Code red! Code red!

Call 911! Code red!

Call 911!

Hey! Watch it.

I got into...

Yale.

I gotta get outta here.

I gotta get out of Orange County.

Where are you going?

Im going to my dads.

All right. Im gonna go in there | and Im gonna say to my dad...

that he abandoned our family, and, | if he wants to make it up to me...

then he can start now by making | a massive donation to Stanford.

Remember when the sea lions | beached themselves in Corona Del Mar...

and nobody | was doing anything about it?

Well, me getting all hysterical | didnt help anything.

This is it, Ashley.

Im gonna tell my dad | I wanna be a writer.

Hey.

Good luck.

Thanks.

- Who are you? | - Im Shaun.

Im your brother.

- What are you sucking on? | - My poody.

Well, arent you a little old | for a poody?

Jake.

What did you just do?

Go pick up your poody, | or youre gonna get a time-out.

Pick up your poody. | Thats it!

Rosa, take Jake upstairs | and give him some Ritalin.

I dont like your attitude!

I dont like your attitude!

Isnt he getting big?

So whats up with you? | You look great.

You really filled out-- | your arms and your chest.

- You been workin out? | - No.

Bud is getting so fat.

You should really talk to him.

Hes gonna have a heart attack.

Plus hes fat.

Goddamn it! | Are you trying to ruin me?

Yeah, where is my dad?

If you do this, | I will eat your face!

Come, my lady | Come, come, my lady

Youre my butterfly | sugar baby

My lady--

Puppy!

God! My God! Puppy!

A writer?

What do you have to write about? | Youre not oppressed. Youre not gay.

- Not all writers are gay. | - Theyre all poor.

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