Owen's college rivals are total classholes.
By Patrick Cassels & Dan Gurewitch
INT. OFFICE - DAY ADAM looks up from his computer, to OWEN. ADAM Oh, look at that. Owen, your old college Dartmouth has a football game against Canby University tonight. OWEN Yeah, whatever. I never really cared about that school spirit horseshit. Suddenly, FINSTER (DAN) and PERCY (PATRICK) arrive. They're classic 1920s UPPER-CRUST COLLEGIATE TYPES. Sweaters around necks. Hats with Cs. "Canby" pendants. DAN There he is, Percy! There's that frog-brained Dartmouth man! We heard there was one of your ilk here. PATRICK Canby's going to lick you good tonight! OWEN Uh, what? DAN You are a Dartmouth man, are you not? That haven for troglodytes buried in the dank New Hampshire woods like a forgotten Sanitarium! PATRICK Back in our college days, we'd often kidnap your undergrads and hold them rump-side north, trembling and trouserless off the edge of their Hall of Languages until they defecated on their own dangling faces from fear. Dan and Patrick both TITTER: "Ha! Ha ha. Hm-ha-ha-ha." Owen gets up with his mug and walks away. OWEN Okay. INT. KITCHEN Owen washes his hands at the sink. DAN Scrub, scrub, scrub! You'll never get the Dartmouth filth out of your fingernails! OWEN Can you leave me alone? PATRICK Why, that sort of antisocial attitude would never be tolerated in the Canby Men's Club. Let's show him the Canby Shake! OWEN Don't. Dan and Pat do an ELABORATE CHOREOGRAPHED SECRET HANDSHAKE: DAN & PATRICK "Harumph Harumph! Diddly-da! Diddley-day, ha HA ha-ha! Fe fi, fo fum! Twiddle the diddle, tap on the bum! Squat low, and grasp a fist! For Gold and Blue, now we kiss!" They KISS LIGHTLY ON THE LIPS, then titter-laugh. DAN I haven't done that in hours! PATRICK What do you think? OWEN Do your dicks have to be out? WIDE REVEAL: Their dicks are flopped out of their flies. INT. NOLL HOLE - DAY Owen enters to find Dan and Patrick. OWEN You wanted to see me? DAN We didn't request the meeting. Your DEAN did! They point to a DUCK WEARING A DARTMOUTH BANDANA. OWEN Really? PATRICK Ha! You've been made a fool of! DAN Come come, it's but a harmless jest. Don't let these monkeyshines sour your puss, ribbing is one of Canby's greatest traditions! PATRICK Why, who could forget the lark we played on old Professor Cheswick? We replaced his RUBBING SALVE with POMADE! DAN Can you IMAGINE? They TITTER. The duck QUACKS. Owen stares, dead-eyed. INT. AT OWEN'S DESK Owen is working. Dan and Patrick appear behind him, arms around each others' shoulders, rocking back and forth as they TRIUMPHANTLY SING THEIR ALMA MATER: DAN & PATRICK 'Twixt the bogs of Shenandoah And the freezing Everglades Sits our hallowed Alma Mater Atop an Indian mass grave. Their warrior souls feed us As we toss the old pigskin! We hear them chanting from the depths of Hell: "Canby, WIN WIN WIN!" INT. OFFICE - ELSEWHERE Owen happens upon Dan and Patrick, who are WRESTLING. They're SHIRTLESS, wearing EXTREMELY SHORT GYM SHORTS and OLD-FASHIONED LEATHER HELMETS. PATRICK Firmer! Clench your buttocks, Finster! OWEN What are you doing? DAN Ah! The Dartmouth boy has come to challenge Canby's best men in a grappling match! To the floor with you, we'll determine who's the greater cocksmith! PATRICK (to Dan) Not so fast, Finster, we must loosen up. (to Owen) Where do you keep your Oiled Boy? OWEN Our what? PATRICK No matter, we always bring our own. Hermes! Patrick SNAPS. A TWINK-LIKE MAN, OILED UP, approaches. DAN A real slippery lad he. (rubbing his hands together) Don't be shy, we'll clasp you yet! Dan and Patrick begin AWKWARDLY CLASPING AND GRASPING at the OILED-UP MAN, grunting and moaning. Owen SLOWLY WALKS AWAY. PATRICK And Father said I wasn't man enough for the trading floor! END.