I am fascinated by last words.
Like Oscar Wilde who said,
"Either that wallpaper goes, or I do,"
and then died.
Or Humphrey Bogart,
whose final words were:
"I never should've switched from scotch to martinis."
James Dean said,
"They've gotta see us"...
Just before slamming his Porsche into another car.
My favorite last words ever,
the French poet Francois Rabelais,
who said, "I go to seek a Great Perhaps,"
because that's what I was after too.
Except I wanted to find my Great Perhaps
before I died.
It's not even 5:00.
I'm sure your classmates will show.
They're just running fashionably late.
I've been keeping my popularity a secret
all these years.
Couples Fear Factor.
You're okay.
Is this why you wanna leave?
No, honey, it's because of me.
Miles has heard all the stories about his father being
quite the legend at Culver Creek--
Well, not--not exactly.
I mean, there are lots of other places
I could dream of going, but you would have said no.
But why do you have to go now?
That's what college is for.
I've told you why.
'Cause of some French poet's last words,
"The Great Perhaps"?
What does that even mean?
That's what I need to find out.
See ya, Raisin.
If he asks, I left for school.
You are my witness.
Alaska!
I thought my mom would never leave.
So much crying, hugging, and carrying on.
Tell me about it.
That's why I drive myself,
to get all the hugs and tears out of the way.
Do you wanna catch up on the road?
Coosa's cashiers have a shift change in 20,
and trust me, we want Gus manning that register.
I can't just let Paul move me in on his own.
Sure you can, Paul.
You don't mind finishing up
while your lovely girlfriend and I go pick up
some sundry items.
Only if she promises to make it up to me later.
What the fuck, Paul?
She should not have to leverage her body
so you'll be a good boyfriend.
That kind of sexist bullshit is why we need to
dismantle the patriarchy.
Jesus, Alaska, I said yes.
It's not just your words, Paul.
It's what's in your mind and your heart.
You think about that while we're gone.
What the fuck?
It's your Da Vinci surprise.
So you know when I was there,
we weren't co-ed.
You're gonna have girls there now.
You know what STDs are?
It stands for sexually transmitted diseases,
like gonorrhea or...
Chlamydia...
Herpes...
Warts...
It's not just like your finger wart,
but other places.
Really the best protection is
just keep your pecker in your pants, son.
That's right.
Are you cool if I have the room to myself
for a couple hours tonight?
May I ask why?
Paul and I agreed
if we stayed together long distance all summer,
then the first night back we would have...
the sex.
You don't have to if you don't want to.
I want to.
They grow up so fast. You coming?
I'm too chickenshit.
This says you're 28.
I can't believe it either. Time, right?
I believe it was the great Theodor Geisel who said,
"How did it get so late so soon?
"It's night before it's afternoon.
"December's here before it's June.
My goodness, how the time has flown."
You might know him as Dr. Seuss.
Life goes fast.
Ask me, it feels like I was just in high school.
'Cause you are in high school?
I wish.
My adolescence would have no doubt been greatly enhanced
by the anesthetizing effects of
Coosa Liquors' Strawberry Hill rosé.
You don't sound like you're in high school.
And that, Gus, is the whole point.
This is right.
No, we're right. Almost there.
Only time for one more chapter.
Looks just like it did the day I left.
It is beautiful.
And you get used to no AC.
Wait, there's no air conditioning?
It's not too late to change your mind.
We got you a fan.
Sweat builds character, boy.
Oh, check it out.
The bell tower. That's the bell we stole.
It took six of us to get that sucker down
before we buried it in the cemetery.
Still the greatest prank in Culver history.
Oh, hey. I've got that, Mom.
At least let me fold your pants.
No, I'm good.
And don't forget to call every Sunday.
Well, I don't have a cell phone.
That's what the payphone's for, pal.
We are gonna miss you so much.
Can I help you make your bed?
I'm good.
I'm gonna be okay, guys.
Promise.
After the unpacking comes the adventure, right?
Right.
You must be the new roommate.
I see you decorated the place.
Name's Chip. Chip Martin.
I would shake your hand,
but I think it's best if you just hang on to that towel.
I'm Miles. Miles Halter.
Miles, as in, "to go before I sleep"?
It's a Robert Frost poem. Ever read him?
No.
Consider yourself lucky. Oh, no one class me Chip.
I thought you just said your name--
Call me the Colonel.
We'll call you Pudge.
Pants on, Pudge.
That's a unique way of unpacking.
Oh, let me guess.
You must be one of those guys
who can't let your socks touch your underpants.
That's not true.
Oh, really?
You got ten seconds to surprise me
before I write you off as ordinary.
Well, I know a lot of people's last words.
Example.
Henrik Ibsen. He was a playwright.
I know who Henrik Ibsen was.
1828 to 1906, considered the father of realism.
Never read him.
But he had been sick for a while,
and his nurse said to him,
"You seem to be feeling better this morning,"
and Ibsen said, "On the contrary."
And then he died.
That's morbid. I like it.
Come on, Pudge. We got shit to do.
So you're a reader, Pudge?
Uh, biographies mostly... or only.
They're my dad's.
My dad used to beat me with my books,
so I started carrying paperbacks around the house,
the odd novella, all short and soft.
That's why I came here.
So I can read long-ass books without getting my ass whooped.
Oh, hey, it's the Colonel.
What's up, scrub?
You grow this summer, bud?
What are you, four feet now?
Hello, Longwell, fellow shit rags.
You know, I always said there's nobody better
at cradling Kevin's balls than you.
Why don't you say that to my face?
I literally just did, you human frat paddle.
You wanna go right here?
Okay, come on, Kev. Come on.
We both know the Colonel's not gonna put
that scholarship at risk, right?
You'll have to excuse them, Pudge.
It's not their fault they had
every goddamn thing in life handed to 'em.
Pudge? What kind of name is that?
I think it's supposed to be ironic.
I'll have you know
I worked my ass off this summer,
valeted at the country club and caddied.
No golf cart either.
You know, you might be the only person who could
spend all summer in the sun and somehow end up whiter.
Is it possible to be 150% Caucasian?
That's--that's... that's racist.
Sleep with one eye open, boys.
Come on, Pudge.
Um, it's 'cause I'm skinny. Never mind.
You're dead.
Yeah, you sleep with one eye.
Are they friends of yours?
Weekday Warriors,
rich assholes who leave every weekend
for their air-conditioned Birmingham mansions.
They also the cool kids.
I don't like them. They don't like me.
So if you came here hoping to be hot shit, Pudge,
you best not be seen with me.
Come on.
Miles Halter. Orlando, Florida.
Attendant of Doctor Phillips High School.
Interesting side note about Doctor Phillips High School,
named after a guy named Doctor Phillips.
Didn't have a PhD or anything, just as an adult,
changed his name to Doctor.
Welcome to Culver Creek, Miles.
I call him Pudge.
Ah, the Colonel and his irony.
How did you know all that?
Takumi knows everything.
Starting with: never let the Colonel
rope you into helping him move.
He's immune to fatigue.
His anger is a renewable energy source.
And you did make a commitment.
- I did? - Time to get to work.
Oh, shit. Smile big, it's the Eagle.
The what?
Mr. Starnes, so nice to see you.
How was your summer?
It was terrible. How are you, Mr. Martin?
Great. Just exploiting my roommate here
for some manual labor, sir.
Ah, well, I expect nothing less.
Ah, you must be Mr. Halter, son of Walter.
Our paths never crossed, but when I was a student here,
he was something of a legend.
So he tells me.
Your dad's name is Walter Halter?
If you are hoping to live up to his reputation,
remember, you're given a large measure of freedom here.
Abuse it and you will regret it.
You seem like a nice young man.
As the dean of Culver Creek,
I'd hate to have to bid you farewell.
- Um, thank you. - You're welcome.
Mr. Starnes, codename the Eagle,
former student, current dick.
When I first got here,
the Eagle was just a lowly history teacher
till our prior dean, Mr. Harris, dropped dead.
Body wasn't even cold yet, and he was already moving in.
They say it was a heart attack, but I have my suspicions.
You're saying that the Eagle committed murder
to become a school administrator?
You saw his face. It's the stuff of nightmares.
I felt like he was staring into my soul.
Next time you see that look, you busted.
Alaska calls it "the look of doom."
Alaska?
Our next stop, 'cause she has the cigarettes.
You got money?
Um, yeah, but I--I don't really smoke.
Perfect, 'cause I do.
There, done.
Classy and sensible.
That is me, Pudge. That is me to a fucking tee.
You ever hear three knocks, it's the Eagle.
Always knock once.
Oh, my God!
Is that the Colonel?
Get on in here!
Alaska.
- Oh, so--so get this. - What?
Okay, first day of summer,
I'm in grand ol' Vine Station, Alabama...
Exciting.
I'm with this guy Justin.
I'm sitting on his couch watching TV.
Mind you, I'm already dating Jake, right?
I'm still dating him, miraculously enough.
But Justin and I, we've been friends
since we were kids.
So, we're just sitting on the couch,
watching the The Office,
talking about SATs or something.
So we're just chatting.
And I'm in the middle of a sentence about analogies
when all of a sudden, he just honks my boob.
- No. - Just like that.
Just like a much-too-firm two, three second honk.
Can you believe it?
And the first thing I thought was:
"Okay, how do I extricate this claw from my boob
before it leaves permanent marks?"
And the second thing I thought was:
"I cannot wait to tell Takumi and the Colonel."
That's crazy.
You can let go now.
Who's this guy not laughing at my story?
- My roommate, Miles "to go" Halter,
aka Pudge.
Pudge memorizes people's last words.
He also has money for your cigarettes.
Pudge, this is Alaska.
She got her boob honked this summer,
which you are now well aware.
You really memorize last words?
Yeah. You wanna quiz me?
Jfk.
"That's obvious."
- Oh, shit. - Is it now?
Oh, no. Those are his last words.
Someone said, "Mr. President,
you can't say Dallas doesn't love you."
And he said, "That's obvious,"
and then he got shot.
God, that's awful.
Nice meeting you, Pudge.
Next time laugh at my story.
Meet you boys in a few.
You walk very quickly.
Not everyone's gifted
with long-ass chicken legs, Pudge.
I compensate.
You see that?
Is that a swan?
That swan is the spawn of Satan.
Never get closer to it than we are right now.
It will rip you to fucking pieces.
But it's so beautiful.
The dangerous ones always are.
Come on, go!
Her name's Alaska Young.
She's from Vine Station.
You could drive past it without noticing it,
and from what I understand, you ought to.
And she mentioned something about a boyfriend?
Jesus.
You touch one boob, and you obsessed.
His name's Jake, college boy,
handsome son of a bitch.
He's a feminist.
She hasn't cheated on him yet, which is a first.
Pudge, I'd like to welcome you to the Smoking Hole.
So, we're allowed to smoke down here?
Of course not.
That was a barely-smoked Hurricane.
That's just plain ungrateful.
Oh, I just can't get in trouble.
My parents would kill me, especially my mom.
You're gonna get in trouble.
Now the question is, what do you do when it happens?
I'll tell you what you can't do.
Rat.
I hate the Weekday Warriors with a fiery passion
reserved for dental work and my father,
but I would never rat on them.
If you learn anything from me today, Pudge, let it be this.
Never, never, never rat.
You got me?
Are you sure?
Yeah, I got it.
This school is important to people.
It may look like a summer camp patrolled by a killer swan,
but to the people who go here, it matters.
Unfortunately, we've reached the hour
where I'm obligated to see my girlfriend.
Wait, you've got a girlfriend?
Don't remind me. I can't stand her.
But then again, she can't stand me.
I guess that's what I get for dating a Weekday Warrior.
- Didn't you just say you hated them
as much as dental work?
I contain multitudes, Pudge.
You coming?
Wasn't Alaska gonna meet us?
I feel like it might be rude if she showed up,
and we were both gone.
One boob, Jesus.
It's Alaska.
Who the hell knows what she's gonna do.
No.
It's still not good.
Okay, Mr. Famous Last Words, I have one for you.
Okay.
The General in His Labyrinth, Gabriel García Márquez.
You ever read him?
It's about Simón Bolívar.
In the book, you know what his last words are?
No, you don't, but I'm about to tell you,
Señor Parting Remarks.
"He was shaken by the overwhelming revelation
"that the headlong race between his misfortunes
"and his dreams was at that moment,
"reaching the finish line.
"'Damn it,' he sighed.
"'How will I ever get out of this labyrinth?'"
Those are some seriously great last words.
No shit.
What do they mean?
That's the mystery, isn't it?
Is the labyrinth living or dying?
And which is he trying to escape,
the world or the end of it?
I don't know.
And here I thought you were the one
who's finally going to deliver me the answers.
We've only just met,
and you're already disappointing me, Pudge.
Have you read all the books in your room?
God, no, but I'm gonna read them all.
I call it my Life's Library.
Every summer since I was little,
I would go to all the garage sales,
and I'd buy all the books that looked interesting,
just so I would always have something to read.
But there's so much to do, you know?
I'll have more time for reading when I'm old and boring.
Hard to imagine you'd ever be boring.
You remind me a lot of the Colonel
when he first came to Culver Creek.
When we first met, we were just a couple of
scholarship kids with a shared interest in...
let's just call it booze and mischief.
I'm interested in those things too.
And something tells me
you haven't experienced a whole lot either,
which is exactly my point.
By Thanksgiving, I got him his first girlfriend,
and later that year, we pulled our first prank.
I provide the vision,
and he provides the military-level planning.
So that's how Chip became the Colonel?
You're smart like him, cute too.
But I didn't just say that, because I love my boyfriend.
Well, you're much smarter than both of us,
and much more attractive.
But I didn't just say that, because I love my girlfriend.
Who does not exist, because I don't have one.
Well, don't worry, Pudge.
If there's one thing I can get you,
it's a girlfriend.
Let's make a deal.
You figure out what the labyrinth is
and how to get out of it,
and I'll get you laid...
by a sexually-liberated intellectual equal, of course.
Deal?
Deal.
When you're walking at night,
do you ever get creeped out
and even though it's silly and embarrassing,
you just wanna run home?
Yeah.
Totally.
Run, Pudge!
Shit.
- Get out, get out! - Come on.
What, what's going on?
Are you serious?
I knew something was up.
Hurry up, hurry up!
Go back to your rooms.
The fuck are you looking at?
- This is bullshit, man. - Guys, come on.
Go back to your rooms. It's late.
This doesn't concern you. Let's go.
I'm sorry. We didn't meant to--
All right, just go back in.
Just go back inside and get dressed, all right?
I don't get it.
I mean, you're good, but you're not that good.
Somebody ratted.
Expulsion's gonna be the least of your worries--
- Who's the rat? - Inside.
- Huh? I knew it was somebody!- Alaska!
You're not gonna believe it.
Ms. Young, please go help your roommate get packed.
Paul, let's go.
Who ratted? I know it was somebody!
- Was it you, man? - Paul.
Who ratted?
Was it you? Was it?
Yes.
First official day of classes,
we've already suffered casualties.
Here's what I know.
I told you Takumi would know.
Takumi always knows.
Apparently, Paul and Marya hit
the Culver Creek rule breaking trifecta.
One, genital contact while, two, smoking pot
and, three, already drunk.
Though, Paul was attempting to use a condom,
so kudos for being sexually responsible.
They are fucked.
Well, they were gone before the sun came up.
No way the Eagle just got lucky.
I hate to agree with Paul, but he wasn't working alone.
Oh, sorry.
I--I did not mean to take your seat.
Oh, not--not mine, never sat here before.
Are you new?
So am I. Um, Lara.
Miles.
Call him Pudge.
Did you hear about the students who were kicked out?
Marya is Alaska's roommate.
Was.
Oh, what happened?
I don't know.
But just to be safe, trust no one.
Old man only has one lung.
Religion is important whether you believe it or not.
Just like history is important
whether you've lived through it or not.
In my case, I probably have.
This year, we will be studying three religious traditions:
Islam, Christianity, and Buddhism.
We'll tackle three more next year.
Gives me something to live for.
My name is Dr. Hyde.
You may be smart, but I've been smart longer.
Therefore, I will talk, and you will listen.
Our time together may be short,
but we are engaged in the most important pursuit of all:
the search for meaning.
What is the nature of being human?
What is the best way to live?
How did we come to be?
And what will become of us when are no longer?
Maureen, you are a genius.
Don't I know it. Every day, living the dream.
What exactly is this?
A fried burrito, aka "bufriedo."
Invented by aforementioned culinary genius Maureen,
named by Alaska.
You know, you can say a lot of bad things about Alabama,
but you cannot say that the Alabamans as a people
are unduly afraid of deep fryers.
Don't eat that zucchini.
Oh, my God.
This is the greatest thing I've ever tasted.
That tastes so good.
Nothing like seeing a man eat his first bufriedo.
Oh, you get any more intel?
I did, but, uh, I think it's best
if we talked privately.
You guys don't trust me?
We don't really know you,
and chances can't be taken with this information.
You do not wanna put that poison
in your body, homeslice.
But it's so delicious.
Kev, come on.
Everyone needs to try a friend burrito once in their life.
Once?
Why would I only have this once?
It's all good, Miles.
No, we're just offering some friendly advice,
'cause you look like you could use some friends.
You guys wanna be friends?
We don't want you falling in with the wrong crowd.
Yeah, you're cooler than those other losers.
- Really? - Yeah.
- I mean, from Florida. - That's cool.
Even Orlando?
Well, look you wouldn't have left
if you didn't have some ambition.
- You know what that means? - No.
No, that's right, because you don't speak Mandarin,
global language of tomorrow, but I do.
That's what we do here, Miles, plan for the future.
A person in your position could be very helpful to us,
letting us know what the Colonel's thinking
and when he's thinking it.
Oh, so...so you want me to be a rat?
No, we're just asking you to do a solid for your friends.
"A journey of thousand miles begins with one step."
That's the translation of what I said to you.
I meant it.
Walk with us, son.
We're seniors, Miles.
I mean, we gotta leave this school to someone,
and that could be you.
I mean, I could just stay out of it.
You know, why pick a side? I could be like Switzerland.
- I've heard that place is really, really nice. - Not possible, bro.
Here, everyone chooses a side.
Come on, man.
Why isn't this water coming out?
I can't wear this bullshit.
Thank, God. Pudge, it's an emergency.
I have dinner with Sara's parents.
Please tell me you know how to iron.
I didn't even know we had an iron.
We don't.
It's Takumi's, not that he knows how to iron either.
When I asked Alaska, she started yelling,
"You're not gonna impose
the patriarchal paradigm on me."
The what?
Alaska, among her many qualities,
is a third wave feminist.
They have waves?
Uh, Pudge, maybe you should try and read
some biographies of women.
God damn.
I need to smoke,
but I can't reek of smoke when I see Sara's parents.
They smell like sandalwood and money.
One thing my lousy father taught me
was how to tie a tie.
Which is odd, 'cause I can't imagine
when he'd ever have to wear one.
Too bad this tie is so goddamn ugly.
I bought you that tie, you asshole.
It was a birthday present.
And one I will never forget.
You must be Sara.
Nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you.
Yeah, I can imagine.
Can't you at least press your goddamn shirt?
I freaking tried, okay?
We can't all have our maids doing our ironing for us.
Wow, Chip, that chip on your shoulder
makes you look even shorter.
What difference does it make, Sara?
I could be wearing a tuxedo with a little top hat,
and your parents would still hate me.
Right, because you antagonize them as you do all humans
who walk the earth.
Hey, you know what.
Um, I'm so sorry that this is your roommate.
You deserve a lot better.
- He ain't the only one. - Cute.
Look, we either go now or we're not going.
- Fuck it. - Fine.
- Whatever. - Asshole.
So, that's Sara.
She seems...sweet.
Yeah.
Neither one of us had a lot of positive role models
when it comes to adult relationships.
Are you drinking sour milk?
It ain't milk-- well, not just.
It's five parts milk, one part vodka.
I call it ambrosia, drink of the gods.
You can barely smell the alcohol,
so the Eagle can never catch me unless he took a sip.
Only downside is,
is it tastes like sour milk and alcohol.
But what the hell, Pudge?
Gotta dull the pain somehow.
- You wanna try some? - Oh, no, I'm good.
You gonna go get that?
- Hello? - Can you get Chip for me?
- Sara, yeah, hold on. - Yeah?
Can we go now?
Yes.
I'm a bad boyfriend. She's a bad girlfriend.
We deserve each other.
Don't wait up.
- Let's go! - Now, Halter!
Ouch! Okay.
- Now! - Don't make us kick your ass!
Okay, okay.
Can I put some pants on first?
That won't be necessary.
Move!
Go!
Oh, I get it. You're gonna handcuff me to the flagpole.
Very funny.
You wish, turd. Come on.
Come on. Go.
- Move. - Speed it up, guys.
Oh, a good ol' fashioned dunking.
Yeah, that sounds really refreshing.
Shut up, arms at your sides.
Wait, why do I need to do that?
Isn't that gonna make it hard for me to swim?
You had your chance to be on our side.
I told you, I'm on nobody's side.
That means you're with the Colonel.
And this is for him.
No, no, no, no, no. Don't do that.
- Wait-- - For what he did to one of us.
Legs.
Wait. You guys, please!
Please, guys, don't!
No!
Wait, "Please, guys, don't" are terrible last words.
Three!
Oh, shit!
You okay?
Better than you.
Someone go for a swim?
Uh, it was less than a swim,
more of a drowning... the Weekday Warriors--
Yeah, well, you better be tough now, Pudge.
Mommy's not here to help anymore.
Not for any of us.
Where the hell you been?
You got tossed in the lake.
Culver Creek tradition.
Attempted homicide
is Culver Creek tradition?
Don't be dramatic.
It happens to all the new kids.
They toss you in, you swim out
and try not to wake your roommate.
I couldn't just swim out.
Shit, you can't swim, Pudge?
Not without my arms and legs.
They wrapped my whole body up.
What?
What do you mean? How?
They plastic-wrapped my entire body.
Jesus, you had to swim out like a mermaid?
Merman, but yeah.
Shit.
You could've drowned.
They just supposed to toss you in
in your underwear and run.
They said it was because of you.
They said that?
Shit.
Takumi was right.
Right about what?
Maybe you could tell me what the hell is going on.
Or I could just go talk to the Eagle.
No. No way, Pudge.
You are not a rat,
and that is not how things get dealt with here.
Well, I've had it with how things happen here.
And--and what's wrong with Alaska?
She was really mean to me.
Yeah, well, she's moody, dude.
I'm sorry, Pudge, about everything.
Turn off the lights.
God damn it!
Those bastards.
Before they grabbed you last night,
they pissed in my shoes.
Are you sure?
Do you want to smell it?
Because if there's one thing I know,
it's the smell of warm piss in my new shoes!
It's like my mom always said.
"You think you're walking on water,
when it turns out you got piss in your shoes."
Do you have a pair of flip-flops or anything I could borrow?
Hey, Pudge.
Heard what they did to you last night.
Alaska's pissed.
Didn't seem like it.
Look, Pudge.
You're collateral damage in a larger battle.
One that's been going on since the beginning of time.
Or since we were freshmen.
It's us versus the Weekday Warriors.
Usually it's just fun and games,
but not after last night.
Things have changed.
What changed?
They think the Colonel is the rat.
I can't believe it.
I mean, I hated that dick weasel,
but I would never rat on him.
If they think the Colonel's the rat,
then they're dumber than they look.
Thank you.
Probably one of those puka-shelled Backstreet Boys
ratted and said it was me.
Which is why we need to figure out
how to ruin their shitty little lives.
After class, we start drawing up plans for a counterattack.
Looks like we're going to war.
I promise you, Pudge,
they will regret messing with one of our friends.
Trust.
Last night, I didn't realize how bad it was.
I'm sorry.
It's okay.
Do we still have our deal?
Yeah.
Miles? Miles, what's wrong?
Why does something have to be wrong?
It's not Sunday-- I thought
you were gonna call on Sundays.
Is that Miles? What's wrong?
Nothing is wrong.
He says nothing.
It's not Sunday.
I was--I was just calling to say thank you.
For letting me go.
For sending me here.
He's calling to say how much happier he is
without his parents.
Oh, good.
That's not what I'm saying.
I know, honey.
I just hope you find whatever it is you're looking for.
Your Great Perhaps.
Um, I-I think I have.
I think I have.