You think you’re such a fox. Strutting through the halls in your white Tony Montana suit and your purdy mouth, you fling contempt right and left with those lidded “I’m so bored I’m surprised I’m even alive” eyes. But then you shake that feathered hair—do I detect frosted tips?—out of your lazy eyes and light on Andie.
While she’s sure to be a firecracker in the sack, that’s not going to happen at the stable, in your sportscar, or at your nouveau riche wreck of a house. As Blaine told me in the computer lab last period, “she thinks you’re shit.” He should know. He got all up in that on prom night.So move on, Less than Zero. Graduate with a C+ average, buy your way into Northwestern (before your dad is indicted with Michael Milken on charges of security violations), rush Alpha Epsilon Asswipe with Hardy Jenns, and watch your back. Duckie’s planning on joining ROTC at the community college and picking up some life skills. When you see him ride by on his bike, get ready to say hello to his little friend.
Me (i.e. the girl with the bi-level haircut and the neon green double-wrap belt you tried to cheat off of on last week's calc test)
P.S. John Hughes, U R 2 good 2 B 4-gotten.