All language subtitles for 100 Girls (2000).en

One hundred girls.

And one of them
is my true love.

My forever soul mate.

The Betty to my Barney.

My cosmetic destiny.

The problem is...

I don't know who she is.

I was leaving a highball bash
in the girl's dorm.

Can you hit the
basement button, please?

My back was to her when
that auspicious blackout hit.

I never got a chance
to see her.

It must've been the cloak of darkness
concealing my usual romantic block.

Because that night I was smart,
I was funny, I was invincible

Did you ever notice in the movie "Willy
Wonka & the Chocolate Factory"...

that the Oompa Loompas
never wore hairnets?

Do you know what I really hate?
Those stickers they put on apples.

By the time you peel it off,
you don't want the apple anymore.

I sometimes wish I could
just crawl up with a girl.

Just hold each other. Like that picture
of John Lennon and Yoko Ono.

That is so sweet.

And that's when it happened.

Our tongues tangled.

And our hands began displaying
their in credible night vision.

Her little breasts were
just the right size to fill...

a champagne glass.

My impressive manhood in my pants
expanded like popcorn.

We never knew
each other's names.

Maybe it was the mystery of if all
that made it so exciting.

in the morning...

she was gone.

I had to find her.

I didn't get much support
from my roommate Rod.

What you're getting so bad
out of shape for, man?

- I mean, it's just a girl.
- I should've expected you to say that.

- What do you mean?
- I mean you're the kind of guy...

who likes those silhouettes of naked
women on the mud flaps of trucks.

You play video games watching a porn
movie on the picture and picture.

- You revel in the size of your dumps.
- Hey, Matt!

You gotta check this out!

Yeah, I do all those things.

This isn't just another girl, Rod.
I connected with her.

The last intimate encounter I had
with a woman was when I was five.

I'd pulled down my pants, and
Vickie poured sand on my winky.

This is better than playing
with you shovel, man.

Ever since then, I've had this
burning need for a woman.

When I was 10 years old,
I liked getting a boner so much...

I started taping my pecker so that
it would stay up all the time.

I did the same thing,
but I used duct tape, man.

Shut up, I'm trying
to make a point here.

I've never had this kind of
success with a woman before.

When I was 16, I tried talking to girls.
I had to write myself cheat notes...

on my hands so I had a list of topics
I could talk to the girls about.

- What's that on your hand?
- Nothing.

My romantic IQ must've mashed me,
because I showed the girl my list.

It's all sorts of things
I can talk to you about.

I thought I was the
biggest loser of all time.

It wasn't as bad as senior prom,
when I spent US$ 150 on Emily...

and didn't even get
a kiss of good night.

So you can imagine how impassioned
I feel now I've actually met this girl.

You're pathetic, man!
I mean, you lose your virginity...

and you don't even get
the girl's name!

- What the hell is that?
- It's penile power, man.

I got it out of an ad
in a magazine, you know?

It's gonna help me increase length
and girth by hanging weights, man!

- Check it out, I'm up to 5 pounds.
- It's the stroker, not the poker.

Man, I'm doing this for me.
Like I always say...

"The angle of the dangle
equals the cubic of the pubic".

- What's that have to do with anything?
- I don't know. I just like to say it.

This penile power thing is gonna
help me increase my libido...

help me maintain
a full firm erection...

and it's gonna help me
control my ejaculation, baby.

- So I'm gonna do it all night long!
- When do you start junior high?

No, man, look here. I'm serious.
It works. Check this out.

This is Kung Chang, right?
Master of penile power.

Look. He's lifting 500 pounds
with his penis, man!

Great, that's useful! is he gonna
enter himself in a tractor pull?

Whatever, man.

So what are you gonna
do about this girl?

- She left this.
- Hey, man, let me see that!

No...

...I don't recognize this one.
- Hey, give them back!

What are you gonna do? You're
gonna boil them and make soup?

You don't want
a girlfriend. Jesus.

And then there's the other thing.
You'd spend every Friday night...

watching movies adapted from
the latest Jane Austen book.

- You don't want that, man!
- It's pretty cold, Rod.

Listen, when it comes to men
and women, men get a raw deal.

For centuries, we've been killing
over 15 years before our wives...

and all because of all the stress
in the work place, right?

But not once have they
apologized, man...

for all the millions of years
of life we've lost working...

while women stayed home.

I couldn't understand why
Rod hated women so much.

I suspected there was some past
horror that made him this way.

Man, all you gotta do is find the
matching bra to those panties.

- Mystery solved!
- That's not a half bad idea.

You're never gonna get
in the Virgin Vault, man.

They don't let boys in
the girls' side, alright?

- No, this will work.
- You're high, man.

On my own testosterone, maybe.
Come with me.

What are you doing, man?

Rod, I focused all my
great cerebral powers...

to come up with this bold plan
to penetrate the Vault.

What are you?
Coyote super genius or something?

Something like that.

Wait! The Coyote never
caught the Roadrunner, man!

Got you!

Hi, I'm Matt, the new
maintenance man.

Had a call about some rats.

Man in the hall!

Getting my female suspects
just about off their rooms...

was as easy as giving away
free hair-care products to girls.

It was as if I was a perverted
Prince Charming.

instead of Cinderella's glass
slippers, I had her panties

I miss you. What you mean,
you just wanna be friends?

- Get off me!
- Put that away and give me some.

- It's gonna be okay. Come on, baby.
- Jesus, can't you see I'm busy?!

- Put that stupid shit away, alright?
- Crick, get off!

It's time to give
me some, alright?

Just relax, alright?

You stapled my ass!

- What are you doing?
- Stop it!

He was gonna kill me.
I just hoped to get in...

a few verbal punches before
he went Mike Tyson on me.

- Who are you?
- I'm Matthew. Your name's Crick.

As in "Crick without a paddle".
I've seen you around.

- You're a natural born hipster.
- Natural born hipster?

The next evolution of a jock.
You traded in your letterman jacket...

for a manicured goatee
and an Euro trash ponytail.

You're the worst kind of cool,
the kind who wears male make-up.

A real fashion plate.

You're living proof of those boy-toy
do of uses in those men's magazines!

I was a goner.
But better me than her.

What was the worse? Crick was
hopped upon nicotine gum.

A chain-chewer. And he chewed
his gum with his mouth open.

I hated that noise.
It was my kryptonite

What the hell are
you doing here?

- I'm here so save her.
- Save her?

How are you gonna do that?

Crick wasn't wearing a shirt.
His nipples stood out like knobs...

on an old TV.
I don't know what possessed me.

Probably his incessant
nicotine-gum chewing.

But my hands reached out like
they were drawing twin guns.

I grabbed his nipples
and did a double twist.

But, somehow, through his blur
of pain, Crick fought back.

He grabbed my nipples
and twisted.

It was tit for tat.

So we faced each other.
Locked in a nipple combat.

Each trying to endure the
retching pains the longest.

Each of us waiting
for the other to blink.

And... I cracked.

I'll be back for your ass!
And I'll deal with you later!

Here, have some Midol.

It does the trick when my nipples
get sore during my period.

Thanks.

Let me see.

They're all bruised.

They are two black eyes.

We should put
something cold on them.

- You're bruised too.
- Don't worry, I'm used to it.

You're Patty, huh? You do that
comic in the school newspaper.

- That's me.
- An art- school girl, huh?

- Is that what you call me?
- No, I wasn't calling you anything.

in high school,
you would have called me a slut.

Now in college,
you call me a good time.

You like my skirt,
but you're thinking:

"If her skirt were any shorter,
she'd have other cheeks to powder...

and would have to put gloss
on another pair of lips".

I wasn't thinking any of that.
I think you're a nice girl.

I was lying.
I did think all those things.

She may not be perfect, but she oozed
sex more than a sponge contraceptive.

She had a cuteness that set off
my hair-trigger response.

She got my pecker to strain
like a dog on a leash.

What?
What's wrong?

- Nothing, I'm sorry.
- I'm trying to make it all better.

No. I'm all better.

- You don't like me.
- No. I like you just fine.

You're worried about
what people say about me.

I've never heard anything.

Sure you have. "If she still has a
cherry, it must be pushed back so far...

...she can use it as a taillight".
- I've never heard that.

Yes, you have.
My reputation precedes me.

It's okay. You know,
I'm all for experimentation.

What are these?
Are these stress balls?

To relieve tension, like Humphrey
Bogart did in that old movie.

"There's three ways to do
things aboard my vessel.

The right way, the wrong way
and my way.

If you do things my way,
we'll get along just fine".

- Those are my pinball balls.
- What?

Pinball balls. I put them inside of me,
I rock my legs and I get off.

Really?

Okay, I'm sorry,
I have to go.

- Hey, Matt.
- What's the matter with you?

Penile power.

It seems to be causing a little pain,
if you know what I mean.

- So what's plan B, Mr. Coyote?
- I'm gonna continue searching.

Everyday, between classes and
homework, I'll create a problem.

So they let me into fixit.

Man in the hall!

Once inside, I just figure out
a way to get in the girls' rooms.

Hello. This is Phil Gambone
calling from KROK radio.

You won the morning prize.
A new car.

You should've been there the day
I turned the air-conditioner off.

It was a feast for the eyes!

And there was Cynthia Dessert,
the "cr�me" of womanhood.

She loomed as a titan in
my masturbatory dreams.

She's the perfect example of
the power women hold over men.

We're paralyzed by their beauty.
We're rendered speechless by it.

If we're lucky to say anything to
them, it all sounds like gibberish.

You're Matt,
the maintenance guy, right?

I need some help in my room.

How can a guy have a real
conversation with a girl like this...

when we're made so helpless?

In the animal kingdom, when
2 members stare at each other...

it is a test of dominance.

The first one to look away
is considered the weaker.

Between a man and a woman,
cards are stacked against the man.

Because, let's face it,
every time a guy meets a girl...

he wants to check out
her breasts.

A man must summon all his will not
to look down at those golden orbs...

whose wondrous tips are upturned,
aimed right at his eyes.

Once a man loses
this test of nerves...

the woman knows she has
a great secret power over him...

and she can get him
to do anything she wants.

Like a sexual sorceress, Cynthia
had several men under her spell.

You can use my desk-top PC
anytime you want, all semester.

I have an extra pizza.
I thought you might want it.

When you're done, I just need
some help moving some furniture.

Thanks for getting this
masterpiece theater!

- Strange, it was getting only ESPN.
- Yeah, it's weird.

- Anybody for a game of foosball?
- No, thanks.

Come on, you guys!

What about you,
maintenance boy?

You wanna play? Just one game!
I'm talking one game here.

It's a bad sign when you meet
a girl who wears no make-up.

Unfortunately,
I didn't heed the warnings.

Arlene suckered me into
a game of strip foosball.

The loser of each goal will have
to remove one article of clothing.

Prepare to get naked.

Beat Matt!

I don't know why you girls get such
fiendish delight in defeating men.

- We've been emasculated all life.
- You're just trying to distract me.

I'm serious. My mom taught me who
was boss when I was 5 years old.

She started spanking me
with a wooden spoon.

We've been forced into
submissive roles all our lives.

You might as well be wearing
those little French maid outfits.

Your dumb stories will not
throw me off my game.

I'm trying to make a point here.
Let me tell you.

I've never felt more manly then the
day my mother broke her spoon...

on my hard buttocks.

The tyranny of the spoon was over,
and my ass was liberated.

Until today.
I'm kicking your hole.

My greatest fear
was being realized.

What if one of these girls
was my elevator Aphrodite?

What if she saw me
getting beaten by a girl?

It's goal time.

Score!

Now I wanna see my trophy.

Thank God I turned the
thermostat up that day...

otherwise my man hood would've
recoiled like a turtlehead...

instead of hanging out like
an anaconda waiting for a match.

Man, you lost to a girl?

Yeah, and my pride shrank
like my scrotum on a snow day.

Speaking of scrotum,
I think I can...

add a little weight.

I'm up to 10 pounds, baby.

I wonder why God equipped women
with all the weapons for seduction?

What do you mean?

Take the breasts, for example.

You've the bosom...

the aureole... the nipple.

Three concentric circles.

in other words,
it's the bull's eye.

Its no wonder the breast
is the target for all men.

- That's profound.
- And men are grotesque.

I'm not just talking about
the little habits we have...

like cleaning our ears
with our car keys.

We're grotesque to the core.
Look at the penis.

It looks like God had some left-over
skin when he was making elbow...

...and he slapped in our groin.
- Man, it freaks me out.

The penis is the first
to shrivel when it's cold...

and it's the first
to shrink in fear.

The penis is a cowardly flap
of left-over elbow flesh.

You wouldn't think that way if you
had a little of my penile power.

I screwed up the air-conditioning
in the Virgin Vault again today.

This time is too hot, so that girls
will strip down to next to nothing.

I should be getting a call
anytime now to fix it.

- Do you have any suspects yet?
- No, there's too many choices.

Their dorm is a Whitman
sampler of women!

A virtual pot-pourri of pussy.

It's more than sex. Those women
have distinct personalities.

Look over there.
You see that girl?

I call her Ever Tan Barbara.

Who's the girl with the
magic markers up there?

It's Ren�. She writes
cheat notes on her breasts.

See next door? That's Sasha.
She's totally into purple.

Have you seen that girl at
the front desk, Rhonda?

She can be really cute, but she has
this habit of picking her eyebrows.

Yeah, nice from afar,
but far from nice!

And you're right. Some girls watch
Jane Austen movies every Friday.

The literary world has a term
for those fanatics. "Janeites".

My God, let's watch it tonight.
I'll make the popcorn!

There's this girl Penny.
Ever seen her?

She's always on the phone crying
with her long-distance boyfriend.

He wants to break up with her. She
is on the same floor as Maureen...

...who has a new hair-style everyday!
- I've seen her around.

Who's that girl with
the green slime, man?

You've found Dana.
She's on a all-algae diet.

- And who's the hummer on three?
- That's Michelle.

She sounds like some kind of
Buddhist monk, don't you think?

So, have you got any more
suspicious suspects yet?

I have that one girl who
never comes out of her room.

So I stake out her room.
I just hear a little bit of rustling.

I bet you that she's
your mystery woman.

- Hurry up, the movie is at 7:30.
- I can't lock the door.

Forget about it. We're gonna miss
the trailer for "North anger Abbey".

Saturday nights were the best
for sneaking into girls' rooms.

They went out on dates or home for
the weekend. The dorm was empty.

Except for Dora. She never had
anywhere to go on Saturday night.

I did have to admit I've seen cuter
girls in "National Geographic".

She's the kind of girl about
whom Rod would say...

I wouldn't even screw
her with your dick, man.

But I felt for her.

When you're not good-looking,
you become a failure by default.

People treat you like
you have the Ebola virus.

They don't wanna get near, because
what you have might be contagious.

It's cruel.

This Women Studies class
is gonna be a breeze.

We get to check out
all the pretty girls.

I think we made
a really big mistake.

Today we are gonna study
patriarchal infrastructures...

that exercise gender-based
discrimination.

Who can give me examples?

The pope won't
allow women priests.

Why can a man be promiscuous,
but a woman is called a slut?

Why is it called "his story",
instead of "her story"?

Why women shoes are
always so uncomfortable?

An older man can go out with a
young woman, but an older woman...

...can't go out with a young man.
- Very good.

The boys in the back,
would you care to contribute?

You enrolled in my class
to meet girls, didn't you?

There's a couple of you
every semester.

None of you ever last.

Great

I need to maintain at least 3.75
GPA to keep my scholar ship.

Now Elsa, of the SS,
is gonna make me lose it.

I'll enjoy teaching
you boys a lesson.

One Saturday, I got careless.

Disasters truck moments after
I had to drain my main vein.

Women have a sixth sense.
They know when something is a miss.

They see things that go
undetected to a man's eye.

From the slightest detail, she knew
there had been a male presence.

And I was such a fool.

I had left behind the most
damning piece of evidence.

But this girl was a pro. She could
have been trained by my mother

My eyes!

Matthew?

It's me, Wendy,
from eleventh grade Trig!

We all sat in the back because
Mr. Perialas had such a bad breath.

I'm looking for this girl. If you don't
believe me, check my right pocket.

- I have her panties in there.
- I believe you.

- So you're gonna check every girl?
- If I can ever see again!

This is so romantic!
Hey, I'll help you!

I'm a sucker for matchmaking!

I wanna let you know, we're gonna
be doing the lights today, okay?

I just want to let you know that
you're hair looks really cute.

And that's all.
Okay, thank you. Bye-bye.

With the help of my faithful
companion Wendy, I found a match.

I waited impatiently for my mystery
maiden to return. It was hours.

Finally my romantic quest was
rewarded. She was a goddess.

More than I could ever
possibly have hoped for.

I was corrupt with happiness.

immediately declared
all the feelings I had had for her.

I think even the word
"love" was used.

I love you.

She kept me frozen in suspense,
as awaited for her response.

Needless to say, my spirits
crashed like a karmic Kinden berg.

Stop soaking, man.

Don't you get it?
Women are nothing but trouble!

Great. Here we go again.

Hear me out, man. Women
complain that all men want...

their girls to look like models,
and it makes them angry...

that they have to live up to this
expectation. But what about us?

We live with the disappointment
that our women won't look like it.

They ever take that
in consideration? No.

We've been conditioned to expect
something that we'll never get!

And what's worse!
Men age better than women.

While we get better over time, we
get with women with saggy tits...

who start wearing those bathing
suits that cover the belly-buttons!

Then, they get those short asexual
haircuts, and their thunder thighs!

Making love to a woman turns
a man into a cellulite surfer!

Who gets the better
in the deal?

I wonder what prom-night succubus
or second-date siren...

had in stilled him
such zealous misogyny.

Can you believe? I've gained a half
an inch since I started using this!

Where do you start when you
measure your dick, man?

Alright, admit it. I've measured
my dick. We all have.

But the evolved man that I was,
I didn't wanna give Rodman answer.

- In your case, from the neck up.
- Screw you, man!

So, hey, what are you reading?

I was just checking to make
sure the paper printed my ad.

I've no clue anymore how
to find my black-out knock-out...

so every week I take up a personal
ad in the school newspaper...

telling my mystery girl that I'll be
waiting every Thursday night...

in the basement
of the Virgin Vault.

So, in complete darkness,
we can renew our relationship...

until both of us decide
to reveal our identities.

You sit in the dark
every Thursday night?

You're a sick man.
You're a freak!

- That's it. I'm outta here.
- Alright, man. Take it easy.

And if she's easy,
take her twice.

My whole operation was
a romantic bay of pigs.

I'd already spent several
Thursday nights in the dark...

and she'd yet to show up.

It's me. Wendy.

- She didn't come, did she?
- No.

- How did you know I was down here?
- I read your personal ad.

It's after midnight.
She's probably not gonna show.

But I thought you might want
some dinner. Come for a food.

Wendy was the
�ber-girl next door.

A testament to why women in
our society are cheer-leaders.

Everything she did
was perfect.

She was arousing in that virginal
MaryAnn, not Ginger sort of way.

This kind of girl is scary.

She's the kind of girl
you take home to mom.

And even scarier, she's the kind
you marry and she becomes your mom.

She dresses you, feeds you...

leaves notes on toilettes telling you
what chores need to be done.

She's scary because you could
see yourself falling for her.

But, at the same time,
you feel that if you fall for her...

you're settling for
just the average.

What?

You're just so perfect.

I hate when people say that.
I don't wanna be perfect.

So my dad had polio
when he was a kid...

and he had this
really bad leg.

And whenever he walked...

he made this creepy...

thumping noise.

And just super creepy.

I remember him coming
home from work and...

walking down the long hallway
to kiss me good night.

I was scared because all I could
hear was the thumping, you know?

So I hid under my covers.

is it not sad to be
so afraid of your father?

I was really scared of the Wizard
of Oz. That Margaret Hamilton...

who does the wicked witch
was so hair-raising, you know?

And that music...

it scared me so much.

I'd get so scared I couldn't sleep,
cause it'd get stuck in my head.

Sometimes, do you know
what I did to calm myself?

I remembered that Dorothy killed
the witch by putting water on her.

So I'd lie in bed and I'd
work up this big water spit.

And I knew that if the witch came
to get me I'd just spit on her...

and she'd melt.

I just told you a sad story about my
family, and that's all you can say?

I'm sorry.
I'm tragically glib.

Men have this anti-intimacy
force field a round them...

that is powered by sarcasm,
humor and aversion.

Why is that?

The force is strong
with this one.

Maybe it's because a man can fall in
love with a different girl every day.

Maybe it's just nature's way
of protecting a man from himself.

How do you feel about
the name "Francesca"?

Do you know that Muslim men
shave their pubic hairs?

No wonder so many of them
become terrorists!

I can't breathe!

I can't see!

Fascinating!

Can you blame guys for being
so horny? Look at the dress.

It's one big symbol
for easy access.

Have you ever calculated how
many hours' women have wasted...

deciding on what
kind of shoes to wear?

Foxy lady!

Trust me. They will get drunk,
they do it every Thursday night.

And they talk about everything
once they're plastered.

So, as Francesca,
try to make one of them...

reveal that she had sex
on an elevator in a black-out.

Did I ever tell you about when I got
a bloody nose while giving head?

Once I got my gum stuck in the
guy's pubis while giving a blow job.

I've got you all beaten.

When I was about to swallow it,
I laughed and it came out my nose.

Girls are way
grosser than guys!

A friend had sex in an elevator.
Have any of you ever tried that?

I have it. I had a boyfriend who
liked to rub it between my toes.

Then he blamed when he got
athlete's foot on his dong!

Francesca's night was
a major bust. That stunk!

Well, maybe you just need to try
something different, you know?

instead of hoping for hard evidence
on your romantic suspect...

maybe you should just
get to know these girls.

You might get a vibe
as to which one she is.

You're right. I do need to do
something I've been avoiding.

I need to lower my
anti-intimacy shield.

If you had a choice, would
you rather be warm or smart?

So, why is it purple?

Isn't "American cheese"
appropriately named?

It's fake and processed,
just like America.

Tell me something...

who's the idiot who invented
the buttoned-down fly?

There are dogs who sniff melanoma
in humans before it's diagnosed.

Have you ever noticed, they only
give hurricanes wasp names...

like hurricane Andrew? You never
hear Giuseppe or Mohammed.

Why older people pull their
pants up over their belly-buttons?

Why in golf is it good
to shoot under par...

but a sub-par performance
in anything else is bad?

Do you know what the best phrase is?
"I'm ready for anything".

I can't speak to Cynthia as Matt.
I start speaking gibberish.

But I have a silver tongue
with her when I am Francesca!

These things are supposed to
get rid of cellulite. Come on.

- Can I ask you a question?
- Yeah.

How often do you bikini wax?

- Everyday.
- I thought I was a fanatic!

God, that's Sam! He cannot see me
with these pants and no make-up!

Wait, wait a second!
I got your term paper!

I even got one of those plastic
covers! You don't have to...

Hold on a second!
I'll come to you!

- Come on!
- I'm coming, Cynthia!

- So what's the big deal?
- I'm not stupid. I get things easy.

The guys will do anything for me
because of the way I look.

I know that.

And if Sam saw me in these...

I might lose my edge with him.

Like at "Green Legend",
they lost the power ring.

- Who?
- Never mind. You're lucky.

No, I'm not.

It'd be great if guys always
wanted to do things for me.

No, it's a curse.
You see...

nothing is a challenge for me.
Everything is made easy.

And if I ever actually do
something on my own...

everyone assumes that I got there
because of my looks. It sucks.

So ready to go again?

It's just easier to talk to
Cynthia as a girl than as a guy.

- There's nothing at stake.
- How do you mean?

When you're a guy talking to a girl like
her, you're going for all the marbles.

She's a Super Bowl of women.

And you know, if you screw up
and she rejects you...

then every other girl after Cynthia
is gonna seem like a compromise.

And you just know you aren't good
enough to get a girl like her.

That's why I don't talk
to girls in her league.

I just don't wanna know
that I've crashed and burned.

I won't ever get the opportunity to
put her ring around my 11th finger.

What are you reading?

- Nothing.
- It's gotta be something.

Why are you talking to me?

I don't know. It's quiet
around here. I'm Matthew.

- What's your name?
- Ghost face.

What?

- They called me so in high school.
- I'm sorry.

It's okay. I kind of like it.
It's better than being called...

"The Poster Child for Abortion" or
"The Girl with the Vertical Smile".

I was trying to be friendly.

Maybe she could tell still
thought she was contagious.

Men wanna be quarantined
from unattractive girls.

We place so much emphasis
on physical beauty...

we're afraid to be infected by
one of these girls' inner beauty.

Let's not have a pity party.
Please, you're blocking my light.

Thanks for getting us the
Lifetime channel, Matthew.

No problem. Just don't tell
anybody I pirated. It's a felony.

Anybody up for a game? How about
you, Matt? Or are you chicken?

Our grudge match escalated
into a cold war of words.

Girls are just users. Look at the
praying mantis, for instance.

After they're finished doing the nasty,
the female eats the head...

...of her male mate.
- I should expect a remark like that...

from someone who thinks a car
is an extension of his penis.

And a person is an extension
of a woman's vagina?

Score!

We aren't filthy pigs like men.
We're always picking after you.

Why are you so worked up? PMS and
quitting smoking at the same time?

A woman can't get mad, unless it's
her period! You're so close-minded!

Yeah, but about
all the right things.

Goal! Two - zip.
Time to strip.

America is so one-sided. Wedding
gifts are a demonstration of that.

What all the newly-weds get?
Kitchen stuff. Girlie crap.

Small trade-off for having
to cook for some lazy ass man!

Lazy? Then answer me this:
When you're walking with a girl...

why does the guy have to slow
down, instead of her speeding up?

Who said going slower is better?
It's not. Going faster is better.

And more exercise.
How about that?

Goal.

At least, we don't start wars.

Maybe if we got laid a little bit
more often, we wouldn't be so.

Maybe you'd get laid more often, if
you knew what you're doing in bed.

You've got it easy. You touch
a guy anywhere and it feels good.

With a woman, it's like
finding a needle in a haystack.

While we're on the subject, you
find it gross to go down on a guy...

and, when you do it,
it's like a really big deal!

But guys are willing to go diving
for oysters anytime, anywhere.

We're more willing to give
pleasure, we're less selfish.

At this remark, I thought Arlene
would spontaneously combust.

- You're so sexist!
- You know what? I am.

- So are you.
- I am not!

You sound like Louis Farrakhan
saying only white men are racist.

But we all have prejudices.
Black, white, male, female.

- Goal.
- You cheated!

How can you do that?
I wasn't even looking!

My God, you cheated!

This was bad. This wasn't
my glorious wrestling fancy.

- You cheated, admit it!
- We didn't lay down any rules!

Maybe that was the problem.

There were no rules
between men and women.

And this lack of rules
made girls...

and specially us guys like
these foosball players.

We had giant steels takes for a heart
and we're spinning out of control.

I was just as bad as Rod.
But I finally had something to say...

when I was called on in
my Woman Studies class.

There's no clear defined rules
between men and women.

Each side thinks they're playing
fair and they're being cheated.

Maybe this is why men and women
bring out the poison in one another.

Rubbish!
We all know there are rules!

Rules that are enforced and imposed
by the contemporary patriarchy...

of western civilization!

Saturday after midterms seemed
like an ordinary Saturday night.

I checked on the girl who
never came out of her room.

Then I noticed that Dora
wasn't in her usual spot.

Dora!

Have you girls seen Dora?

Have you guys seen Dora?

She's up there.

- Why aren't you doing anything?
- She does this every semester.

I'd break the VCRs so those girls
couldn't watch Jane Austen movies.

Let's play West.

One more flight.

Don't do it!

The first time I did this,
nobody noticed.

- Now nobody cares.
- I care.

Why are you doing this?

- I was born with the greatest curse.
- What's that?

I'm ugly and I'm
also very smart.

- You're not ugly.
- I know what's in store for me.

No one will ever
have passion for me.

People all around me will be
falling in love and making love...

and getting married
and having kids.

The closest thing
I'll ever have to that...

is someone inviting me
to their Christmas dinner...

because they feel guilty, I might
be spending the holiday alone.

Or, if I'm lucky,
my male counterpart...

an obese man or a guy with a
harelip, will invite me to coffee...

and we'll pretend to love
each other and tighten up...

because we're so desperately
afraid of growing old alone.

I had a bad feeling this girl
might jump this time.

I felt terrible that I had treated her
like she had the Ebola virus.

There was something inside this
girl I wanted to expose myself to.

She was so self-aware,
so sensitive.

Maybe she noticed
the change in me.

Come on,
let's go back inside.

Only if you admit
that I'm right.

You're probably right.

You didn't have to worry.

I just like to come up here sometimes
and see what it might be like.

I found out what Dora was reading
all those Saturday nights.

D.H. Lawrence, Colette
and Henry Miller.

"Sylvester, yes, he knows
how to build a fire.

But I know how
to inflame your cunt.

I shoot hot bolts
into you, Tania.

I make your ovaries
incandescent".

Can you imagine someone
being that passionate for you?

Your turn.

"Your Sylvester is
a little jealous now.

He feels something, doesn't he?
The reminiscence of my big prick.

I set the shores a little wider.
I ironed out the wrinkles.

After me, you can take
on stallions, bulls, rams...

saint bernards".

Being Francesca has
its disadvantages.

What happened?

Last night, my roommate,
Rod, came to find me.

He didn't recognize me
as Francesca.

God!

Jesus Christ!

So he starts looking
at my dress.

I know exactly what he's doing.
Because I do it when I can too.

Whenever men look at a girl,
they imagine her naked.

So that's what he's doing
to me right there.

I felt...

...violated.
- I know the feeling.

It's no wonder that women have
to be the gatekeepers of sex.

With the way men are, women
could initiate the sexual battle...

whenever they wanted.

Guys are just simply always
willing to volunteer for sex.

Their attitude towards it, it's like
putting jam into a jelly donut.

I tested the concept with Rod.

So what do you
wanna do about it?

What are you talking about?

You just said "I love you".

No, you got me wrong.
I said "olive soup".

- What?
- Olive soup.

So he was all ready
to do it with you?

It proves men are irresponsible when
it comes to genital gymnastics.

I have this theory that
has to do with shopping.

- Shopping?
- Women have more practice at it.

They can go into a store, circle
something and they won't buy it!

They're learning self-restraint.

Men only go shopping when we
know exactly what we're gonna get.

Men and women treat sex
the exact same way.

- Your theory has some validity.
- It's not only sex.

Women are more responsible
about everything!

The fact of the matter is,
women really rule the world.

Thank you.

The irony is that women are not
pointed to recognizable positions.

They have to carry out their
work at the underground.

Men are afraid of putting women to
the work place, because they know...

women will rise to their
proper levels on top.

- I think you're right.
- I've got a cookie for you here.

Thank you.

Care to come in and share
a bowl of Captain Crunch?

Patty had a way of even making
"Captain Crunch" sound sexy.

No, I have work to do.

Look, don't be afraid. I know you
like some other girl than me.

Here, have some.
It's the original.

There's some syrup to put on it.
That's how I like it.

How do you know I like
some other girl?

- By the way that you look at me.
- And how is that?

There's a certain way a man
stares at the woman he loves.

The man looks like
a boy on his birthday.

And he treats the woman
as if she were a gift...

that he's waited
so long to open...

and now he can't wait to see
what the treasure is inside.

You don't give me that look.

You know how Captain Hook
could always hear the crocodile...

from the tic-tac of his
clock in the crock's belly?

That's the way it was for me
with Crick and his nicotine gum.

- I knew I'd find you two together.
- He was all high on nicotine gum.

I had to get Patty
out of there.

The best way to do that was to
focus his testosterone on me.

You know something, Crick,
I was wondering.

The bad guys of the world really
know they're being bad...

or they think they're good guys
when they act like sphincters?

I don't know.
You tell me, smart guy.

- So you think you're a good guy?
- I know I am.

You're the one who's trying to
steal my chick. I'm the cool one.

Cool? That's another thing
that bothers me.

I was just reading that one in
six people think they're cool.

What is that like? A billion people
are cool? That just can't be right!

If everybody is cool,
then really nobody is cool.

You don't know what
you're talking about.

Look at you. The modern-day media,
the magazines, the TV...

they show us what coolness is,
so that you pony-tale pretenders...

can go out there and buy coolness,
thus fooling the weak-minded.

I had enough of you, buddy!

Get off me!

We'd never win this fight with Crick.
lonely had one desperate chance.

Bastard!

Get the hell off me!

Bastard!
What the fuck!

I think we ditched him.

Patty!

- What was that?
- My pinball balls.

- You had them in while eating?
- Yeah, it's incredible.

There you are!

I was a dead man.
But then fate intervened.

After Crick hobbled away in pain,
we were still drunk with laughter.

I guess that's what
made me do it.

Patty came on to me again,
and succumbed.

I tried to rationalize. I thought
maybe I could learn from her...

maybe this is why God
made women like this...

so that sexually impaired like me
would've someone to practice on.

At this moment,
she wasn't a slut.

She was a luscious
voice of experience.

Sweet leaping Jesus!

I figured that nobody on their
deathbed looks back and says:

"I wish I had made love less".

We didn't make love the way
they do it in the movies...

where the guy slides in between her
legs like a hot knife through butter.

No, this was like real life.

No, not that hole.

I can't get in. You're sure
there's not another ball in there?

No, here.
Let me help you.

No, we didn't
make cinema love.

We made the kind of love
where you just laugh together...

when bodies make that noise when
air gets trapped in between you.

Patty taught me things.

You don't have to kiss me
the whole time.

Seems like you're kissing me
just to avoid looking at me.

Look into my eyes.
Concentrate on me.

Concentrate on us.

I'd only done it twice, but now I
knew why men love sex so much.

Because while you're doing it,
you feel like you're as good...

if not better than
every other man.

The feeling of that grease makes
you sure you're in the correct path.

Madonna mia!

That everything is right
in the world.

Our transcendent fusion was not
the romantic type, it was just fun.

My experience with her was not
serious and nothing cosmic.

I used her.

- I feel terrible.
- Don't worry about it.

Did I tell you I'm up to
15 pounds over here?

I treated her like she was
my sexual training wheels...

something I'd use to learn and I'd
discard when I no longer need them.

And what if the elevator girl finds
out? She's gonna think I'm a dick.

Man, it's your manifest
destiny to nail her.

in every species, it's the male
function to perpetuate its line.

Why should it be
any different for you?

You should embrace
your destiny, not deny it.

How are you gonna get by with
this attitude towards women, Rod?

I'm gonna get rich. I'll give me
one of those low-life whores...

give her a nice car, a bunch
of credit cards, lots of cash.

in return, she'll take care of the
kids and give me sex on demand.

What's your problem? What happened
to make you hate women so much?

- There's no problem.
- Something had happened. I knew it.

There was definitely
a horror in Rod's past.

And it was the encounter with the
monster that Rod called "woman".

- What's your horror story?
- There's no story, man.

You're the one that's got
a problem with women, not me.

Maybe if you tried this thing, you
wouldn't be so nervous all the time.

Not only have my length and girth
increased, but so has my virility, baby.

Just the other day,
I boned this girl all night long.

Yeah? What girl?

Francesca.

- Yeah, right!
- Yeah, man. She's doable.

- In your dreams!
- She is, man. I'm telling you!

We had sex all night long. She may
be ugly, but I ain't complaining.

I'm shepherd happy.

God, I hate guys

Dick!

More than half of the semester had
passed, my debutante of the dark...

my doll of destiny,
hadn't presented herself.

I had almost lost all hope
when something happened.

- Matthew?
- You're here!

My God, you know my name!
That's wonderful!

- Stop trying to find me.
- What?

I don't want you to find me.

- Can we talk about this for a second?
- There's nothing to talk about.

I don't like you.

Wait, can you...
Wait, hey, wait!

I chased her like I was Popeye
Doyle chasing that train.

Got you!

I lost her.

- Do you wanna talk about it?
- No, I'm okay.

My anti-intimacy force field
was on the autopilot.

Come on, might make you
feel better.

I was feeling so bad, I decided to
put the anti-intimacy on manual.

- I lowered it.
- Tell me about it.

I figured she had
a boyfriend...

or she was drunk that night
and she didn't remember.

Or I deluded myself into thinking
she thought I was some pre-med...

or pre-law Adonis, and that
wouldn't care when I found her.

I never thought it was
because she didn't like me.

- Maybe there's another reason.
- I don't think so.

I should've figured it had
something to do with me.

Testosterone must really
fill the ego, because...

I've stored plenty of both.
I'm just a big steaming pile of loser.

What do you think I am? It's midnight
and I'm cleaning my room.

- Is your mom coming tomorrow?
- Yeah, you guessed it.

How do you get along
with your folks?

in 9th grade, I wanted to read
these James Bond novels.

My mom wouldn't allow it, unless
my father cut out the sex scenes.

She said, "That doesn't happen in
real life". And certainly not to me.

I had to get glasses. I begged my
mom to let me get contact lenses.

"If I get glasses, mom, I couldn't
be handsome like James Bond".

She just never let me feel like
I could be sexy.

- I still feel that way.
- God!

Parents always try to turn us into
something we don't wanna be!

I wish I could be more than
my parents' perfect little girl.

That looks like fun.

Wait. Only I'm allowed to.

- Now we're even.
- Really?

Hi, mom.

This is Matt.

Finals were nearing, and so was
the end of the school year.

I was running out of time.

Look what it did to my
"Pride and Prejudice" tape.

This is a catastrophe!

I had one last chance,
one last strategy.

If I improved myself, doing more
than keeping my nails clean...

maybe my cosmetic destiny
might change her opinion of me.

She was out there
somewhere watching me.

I decided, the first step in my
taking a scouring to my soul...

...was peace in the gender war.
- Another point, pussies?

- Forget it. I'm outta here.
- Come on, just one more game!

I'll play.

I was a maze by how well Arlene
and I complemented each other.

Arlene had a soft touch,
knowing just where to set me up.

She let my power game
do its magic.

She was an excellent
cheer-leader.

She never got pissed
when I blew a point.

It's okay, you're doing good.
You get it next time.

My balls and her energy drove us
to new performance heights.

Come on, Arlene, smoke them!

Our masculine and feminine sides
brought up the best in each other.

We went together,
like yin and yang.

Potato chips and soda.
Men and women.

Because Crick and his buddy had
the same styles, they often collided.

They were missing something. They
had the power, but no strategy.

There was too much ego. They spent
more time fighting each other.

You keep your arm
on your side!

- That's game, guys.
- End match. Now drop them.

You cheated!

Let's see those trophies, boys.
Let's see them.

Girls, it's just because it's cold
in here. It's freezing, I swear.

I know sometimes you think
guys like me can be pigs.

I get sensitive sometimes. Comes
from growing up with 6 brothers.

I know, but I wanna
tell you something.

It's hard for me sometimes to
figure out how to be a man.

What do you mean?

I can blame my father a little bit.
My male role model.

My dad loves ice-cream so much,
he'd do anything to get it.

More than once, I'd watch him running
out in the middle of the street...

in his underwear,
after the ice-cream truck.

How is that supposed to
teach me to be a man, right?

Back in the day, boys would go
out with their fathers to work...

or they'd take the
weekend and go hunting.

At their fathers' sides,
boys learn to be men.

in the computer age, boys are at
home and fathers, at the offices.

There's no more
apprenticeships left.

It leaves me in the street,
looking at my father...

is his under weareating
ice-cream sandwich.

- Some role model.
- Right!

If I can't grasp what a man is,
how am I gonna understand women?

I wouldn't say that. You understand
women better than most men.

Thank you.

I love women.

I love those emerald pools
masquerading as eyes.

Lips.
I love smiles...

and the yawns.
The eating.

With skin so soft,
women are head to toe cashmere.

A woman skin inspires a man's fingers
to have Magellan's love of exploration.

It's women's bellies
that drive me wild.

It's more than the only part of
the body you easily see naked.

The belly hints at
the pleasures beyond.

You're so near and yet so far.

Everything about a woman
draws you to her sexuality.

The small triangle between her legs
is like the head o fan arrow...

which points, "Go here!"

Or if you follow the graceful
line of the pectoral is major...

it inevitably draws your
eyes to the golden orbs...

climaxed by the nipple.

God is in the details. And the
nipple is His greatest detail.

Dora loved the video
I made of her.

But I couldn't take the credit.
I said 95% of directing is casting.

See?
You're beautiful.

So, Cynthia, why aren't you out
on a Saturday night?

Because my face got flattened like
road kill after the couch fell on me.

Sorry.

It was weird that I felt comfortable
talking to her now...

that her looks
didn't distract me.

She was the same girl, really.

- So what are you reading?
- "World Religion and Us".

This guy was supposed to give me
his notes, but he never called me.

I was reading about these religious
scholars who found out that...

the phrase "walking in the water"
meant "walking by the water".

isn't that interesting? Perhaps
Jesus didn't perform any miracle.

We thought he did, because we
made a mistake in the translations.

I hear you. But you know
what's really messed up?

God loves us, right?

Then why does he let bad things
happen to good people?

I don't know. I guess God has
a plan for everybody, right?

His plan for me sucks!

You've got strong legs.

I'd been avoiding Patty for a while.
I didn't know how to handle it.

But I was thinking about her. So
Francesca went to hangout with her.

So what do you think about
that maintenance guy Matt?

- He's not my type really.
- Why is that?

I don't know. He just sort
of seems distracted to me.

It was then that I heard the
cracking of Crick's nicotine gum.

Patty, I just heard of what you've
been doing with Mr. Fix-it.

- Can we talk about this later?
- No, we'll talk about it right now!

- Please, just let go off me!
- Let her go!

You want to some of me too?
It looks like it's just the two of us.

Relax, and we'll
get along just fine.

Are you a slut too? Everything
will be fine. Just relax.

Crick was chewing
his nicotine gum in year.

Like kryptonite, it drained any
superpowers I had left in my body.

All that went through my mind was
what Crick had in store for me.

Do you like it?
I'm gonna give it to you good.

Now give us a kiss.

I had to do something.

This was not the night that little girl
Francesca was to become a woman.

I read later that four thousand women
a year are murdered by their men.

I don't understand women.
But, for a moment...

I had an inkling about their
feelings towards men.

I didn't tell anyone about what
happened. I was too ashamed.

And if that wasn't
bad enough...

I discovered Rod choking the
chicken to the video I made of Dora.

What happened to your dick?

It's called hypospadias.
The hole in your dick is...

it's not on the tip,
it's underneath.

Spooky! It's kind of like having
your mouth below your chin.

Sort of.

Don't tell anyone, alright?

Specially those girls you've
been hanging out with.

I showed it to a girl once,
and she freaked out.

It was then I realized
this was Rod's horror.

I haven't taken it out in front
of a chick ever since.

So how do you pee?

I either, you know,
lift it up real high or...

if I'm lazy, I just give it
a twist or something.

So this was what
it was all about.

The penile power was a way
to prove his manhood.

And to build himself up,
Rod had to run down women.

Men are so insecure
about their masculinity.

What pathetic
creatures we are.

- You must think I'm a total faggot.
- No. Not at all.

Did you ever see the James Bond flick
"The Man with the Golden Gun"?

- Yeah, what about it?
- Remember Scaramaga's 3rd nipple?

- Yeah, so?
- It was the "superfluous papilla".

And Bond made a fake one so he can
get in the Scaramaga's hide-out.

You're missing the point. The 3rd
nipple was a sign of sexual virility.

So maybe your penis doesn't
make you an elephant man.

Maybe it makes you
a superman.

Cool.

I had learned something
from Rod's groinular fixation.

His horror was my horror too.
It was everymen's horror.

Deny we may, but we're all
afraid of women.

Every single one of them.
Time had run out.

Finals were in a week. Soon,
everyone would be leaving the dorms.

The next semester, some would
relocate to off-campus housing.

If I had any hope for finding
my cosmetic destiny...

I had to face
my greatest fear.

I went to the Vault and declared
my love in front of 100 girls.

I'm Matt.

I explained everything done
for my cosmetic destiny.

My speech must be
my Sistine Chapel...

my Ninth Symphony,
my "Citizen Kane".

My words needed to be
more inspirational...

than Martin Luther King's
"I Have a Dream" speech.

They had to be more miraculous than
Mark McGuire's 7th home run.

I used impressive words like
"destiny", "soul mate", "yearnings".

It takes a big man to yearn.
I put my heart out.

Without you, I'm as lonely as an
abandoned dog in the highway!

I have gift anxiety. Even though I
don't know when your birthday is!

We can spend perfect days
shopping and cooking together.

I'll never make wise cracks...

when you scrape your tires against
the curb or parallel parking.

If you concede to live with me,
I'll clean the toilette every week.

I'll do it with my tongue
if you ask.

I'll strike the words "hooters" and
"love rockets" from my vocabulary.

I'll love you even if you are Mimi
and you want me to say "May-May".

I'll only pass gas underneath the
covers in the direst circumstances.

I'll go on a low-cholesterol diet.

And I won't buy a red sports car
when I have my mid-life crisis.

Your parents can come
visit us every week.

Even if your mom is a
big witch with a capital B.

Your folks don't have to
go to a retirement home.

They can live with us. I declare, I'll
separate the whites from the colors...

I'll learn the mysteries of hot
water and cold water washes.

I'll never huff and puff waiting
for you to put on your make-up.

If you're a cat person, I'll never
say that a dog can save your life.

I'll happily go see flicks with you,
like "Pride and Prejudice".

I'll make a point to try new foods,
like okra gumbo.

I won't turn my nose at vegetables
whose awful taste...

is disguised by having
cheese put on it.

I pledge to always say "yes" when
you ask, "is my hair looking okay?"

I'm gonna bring a whole new
meaning to the word "cuddle".

I'll be thoughtful enough to
read you horoscope everyday.

I'm gonna save every
birthday card you send me.

And I'll actually write you
real letters when we're apart.

I'm never gonna expect you to
know where I left my car keys...

and I'll never leave
my socks on the floor.

With me, you'll find the cap's
always on the toothpaste.

I'll start wearing those male
bikini underwear if you like.

My belly-button will
always be free.

I wanna kiss your clitoris.

It will be the most passionate,
intimate experience you ever had.

I declare now,
I'll give my life for you.

If you fail to come to me...

I know some part of me
will surely die.

I'm the one, Matt!

No, I'm the one!

No, I'm the girl
from the elevator!

Shut up!
I'm the one!

I'm not the one,
but I'll go out with you!

My God.

I could have my choice
of any girl.

Whoever wanted
could be the mystery girl.

It'd eat me up inside if didn't
find my true cosmetic destiny.

I would always wonder
who it might have been.

It was her
I knew it!

I raced to the door of the girl
who never came out of her room.

There she was.
My once and future love.

I'm not the girl.

She's a couple of doors down.

Patty, I know it's you.

- Go away.
- Patty...

You fell in love with
another girl in that elevator.

I'm not that girl.

- I fell in love with you.
- No, you didn't.

I tried to make you love me,
but you were in love with her.

Why do you think that?

By the way you look at me.

Go away.

is that what you really want?

Yeah, that's what I want.

Buck up, man. It looks like you got
weights dangling from your dangler.

- Smile.
- It wasn't my dangler...

that had weights on it.
It was my heart.

Check it out.
The bust got busted.

It was only my first time.
I swear.

I told her not to use water-soluble
link. Her cheat note sweat through.

Cynthia's having a good semester.
She found something she's good at.

Those heavy ant cellulite pants
built up the strength in her legs.

For an actual attacker...

...you do something like that.
- She can kick some ass!

The coach says, he's never
seen anything like it.

And that concludes the martial
arts demonstration for the night.

The last day of class, I dropped the
bomb on Elsa, she-wolf of the SS.

Ms. Stern, I'm sick of coming into
your class three days a week...

and hearing my sex is responsible
for all the problems in the world.

You don't give us any
room for questioning.

Part of the problem is feminist.
There's just too many "ist".

Feminist, chauvinist, capitalist,
communist, racist, sexist.

They fight one another, instead of
trying to understand one another.

The only "ist" that
should be are humanists.

- I agree with Matt!
- I applaud him!

Elsa couldn't respond.
She just stood there...

as if she heard the distant
roar of the allied bombers...

coming to destroy her
propaganda machine.

Without his tongue, Crick sounded
like he was mentally challenged.

And although Crick would
never sweet-talk a girl again...

he still needed to be
accounted for his actions.

I made the ultimate sacrifice a man
can make to get rid of him forever.

You're not gonna
bother her again.

- You go to hell!
- I'm turning you in.

- What for?
- I fought through the shame.

I'm going to the police.
You sexually assaulted me.

- You'll never prove it.
- My bravery inspired others.

- He did it to me too!
- Me too.

- And me.
- Together, we put Crick away.

Wendy had a big confession.

I'm a lesbian.

Why didn't you tell me?

I was afraid of what people might
think. Specially my parents.

Why are you telling me now?

I think I can deal
with it now.

That's why I initially helped you
with your search.

I was hoping that while you
were out finding your girl...

you might find one for me.

So I fixed her up
with Arlene...

who I discovered practiced
an alternative life-style too.

It was a big week. also found
time to fix Dora and Rod up.

Their night was electrifying, and
they've been together ever since.

I don't know what it was.

Maybe it was the romantic
power of candlelight...

but I decided to
give it one last try.

I remembered what
Patty talked about.

There's a certain way a man
stares at the woman he loves.

The man looks like
a boy on his birthday.

He treats the woman as if she were
a gift he's waited so long to open...

and now he can't wait to
see what treasure is inside.

They got together.
That's nice.

Sweet leaping Jesus!