[22:46] Scene 4: Outside the Principal's office, Brendan's school

Teacher
The Principal's interviewing your parents right now, Brendan - you and Jason sit there until they're ready.

[FX: teacher walks off]

Brendan
Shit 2Pot, what're we here for?

2Pot
Car, dickhead.

Brendan
Fuck! How'd they know it was us?

2Pot
Well they don't! They're just guessing cos we were out of class at the time - oh, fucking relax!

Brendan
Relax?! My fucking folks are in there! They'll call in yours too! We're fucking dead!

2Pot
Yeah, right. Let me tell you something, homie.

2Pot
So you think your dad is a knob?
Next to mine he's Snoop Doggy Dog.
My folks didn't wanna be around
I had to do my own ultrasound.
Babysitting was not a prob
Greg Domasevich got the job

(My parents are...)
(Complete arseholes...)

It's not something that I want hid
I love it being a disturbed kid!
Who would choose polite and docile
When you can be antisocial?
My heart goes out to all you fucked kids
Who cannot act self-destructive.

(My parents are...)
(Complete arseholes...)

I met some kids who were really sad
They loved their mum, respected dad
They saved and bought a suburban pad
I knew that they would turn out bad -
They fucked up like their parents did
You need role models when you're a kid.

(My parents are...)

Brendan
What are we gonna say? How are we gonna get out of it?

2Pot
Simple mate! Blame it on the Nips!

Brendan
WHAT?

2Pot
Blame it on the fuckin' Nips! We say we saw 'em do the car! Everyone fuckin' hates 'em anyway! Say they did it!

Brendan
But what about that "Soong sing pong" shit - you heard about the dragon'll eat the balls of all who betray! You said you'd never betray them-

2Pot
Blow it out yer arse, bud! I'm saying it was the Nips.

Teacher
Jason, the principal will see you now.

2Pot (to Brendan)
It was the Nips, mate! You know it as well as me!

Teacher
Brendan, you wait here alone.

Brendan
Shit!

Pe*** ***th
It looks like you're cactus, Brendan my boy,
I told you that right at the top.
Just do what I do: blame it on others!
You go for the option that's soft!

Evil Choir
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!

Pe*** ***th
Nothing's your fault, it's the fault of your peers
Or the unions, or starsign or dad
I think that you'll find for every excuse
There's something you've done that is bad.

Evil Choir
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!

Pe*** ***th
Sing, my fellow fiends, sing! And tell this boy how all the world agrees.

DJ
He taught all us DJs how we should deny The money in brown paper packets

Statistician
He showed us statisticans to prove x is y

Sports star
And us sports stars to bash in our rackets

Evil Choir
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!

Chef
He taught all us chefs how to serve up couscous
With just the right petulant sneer
That diners now think to complain is to be
A yobbo with a pie and a beer

Architect
We architects whine that the reason our shard
Should stay there in everyone's way
Is that that the public should just shut up and leave
True genius alone; and to pay!

Evil Choir
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!

Pe*** ***th
Brendan my boy, there ain't no one these days
Who stands up and then takes the rap
John Howard will tell you - and yes, I agree -
Saying sorry is a right load of crap! Ha ha ha!

Remember old Banquo? Of course you do not -
"Macbeth" was a play left unread -
Well, he was the guy who just wouldn't lie...
Ended up with an axe in his head!

[laughter]

Evil Choir
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!
Blame it on the Springy Nips!

Brendan
But the Nips? They didn't do it!

Pe*** ***th
Yes, Brendan, and everything I say to Kerry O'Brien is a load of bollocks too, but SO WHAT, Brendan? No one expects the truth. No one wants the truth. And let me tell you, pally, no one likes people who tell the truth! Oh FUCK ME matey, if I told the truth I'd be out on my arse so quick, the whining fat businessmen fucks I've got to put up with - feeding them the line "it's all the union's fault they can't buy their fat-arsed wives a trip to Vanuatu" - it's because they're so lacking in brains or courage or wit they couldn't sell turds to dung beetles - my misguided, selfish or egomaniacal cabinet colleagues, hooked on PR and easy sex with brainy groupies who are prepared to ignore their sweaty, fat-cheeked grunts of doggy pleasure - the prodding, prating media hypocrites, blind to their own faults whilst hoping everyone else stumbles, dressing up in their small-mindedness as some great standard of press freedom, when all they're doing, like everybody else, is working in a fucking factory for a fat man! DON'T FUCKING TELL ME THE FUCKING NIPS DIDN'T DO IT BRENDAN, YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD! Because if the fucking Nips didn't do it, then they're the first people I've ever met in this whole stinking sore of a planet that aren't guilty! We're ALL guilty, matey, we're all guilty deep down in our guts where the fucking truth is waiting to be revealed - when we bend over, and God himself puts his hand up our cornholes and pulls out the filthy crapulent mess that's inside - I'll rip you apart, you little turd! I'll rip you open and pull out the crap that fills you up, and I'll shove it in front of your dying eyes - so with your last glance you can see what's really there - underneath your innocent, idealistic, adolescent skin...

Teacher
Brendan, the principal will see you now.

[FX: Brendan walks to the office, opens the door and walks inside. The only sound in the office is a ticking clock. A long pause.]

Principal
Brendan - this is a most serious offence. Jason has told us that the hooligans who did this came from outside our school community. I, myself, would like to believe that no one from this school could perpetrate such a wanton act of vandalism. I am sure your parents too would be relieved to hear that you were above such criminal motives. Brendan - who sprayed the car?

Brendan
...Sir - 'twas I.

[ Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scene 4 | Scene 5 ]

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