Whoever said this shit was comfortable was a fucking misogynist.
Light up your leggings!
Since this bitch is so obsessed with her hair,
what do you say we shave it the fuck off?
Whoa! Whoa!
What the hell is going on?
Justice.
We've convicted Saskia of Sandy's murder,
and now it's time she paid the price. Shave it off.
Sorry, did you just say "convict"?
How can you convict someone if you haven't had a trial?
Oh, stop being a narc, Amelia.
- And that's coming from me.
No, really, I want to know how does this justice system work?
Is it a head shave and some probation,
and then you're just gonna glue the hair back on if she wins an appeal?
She needs to be punished.
And if that means we need to have a frickin' trial,
then fine, we'll have a frickin' trial.
Yeah. Law Order, Ridge Heights style!
Oyez, oyez!
Saskia Vanderbeek...
is a murderer.
The evidence presented at this trial will show unequivocally
that she killed
poor, humble exchange student Cassandra Cooper-Reid.
- God, I miss true crime so much. - Oh, my God, me, too.
All I need is some Pad See Ew,
a bottle of my brightest shellac polish
and this is like my Wednesday night ritual.
Exhibit A.
A farewell letter supposedly written by our American friend,
and yet it is riddled with Australian spelling.
Exhibit B.
The D'Amiré bag, Sandy's most prized possession
and something we, her peers, know that she would never leave without.
- And Exhibit C.
An eyewitness that saw Saskia at the scene of the crime
the very night that Sandy went missing.
Let's make her reuse one tampon
- until she gets toxic shock syndrome!
Okay, this is hardly a fair trial.
Let's give her backhanded compliments
- until she suffers from poor self-esteem!
I mean, it's not like it's an impartial jury.
This is like the fucking Salem Witch Trials.
Hey, great idea.
Burn her at the stake!
- Stop!
Come on, Genevieve. This is an absolute joke.
You don't even have one of the most crucial components of the judicial system.
What are you talking about?
We've already assigned the court artist.
No, I'm talking about the defence lawyer.
Oh, as if anyone's going to defend a monster like Saskia.
Any takers, ladies?
G-U-I-L-T-Y!
She ain't got no alibi.
She guilty. Hey, hey, she guilty.
I'll do it. I'll defend her.
What, sorry? Beg your pardon?
Now is not the time to realise your unfulfilled legal career, Amelia.
Yeah. You sure you want to do that?
Yes. Yes, everyone deserves a fair trial, even Saskia.
Right. Let's decide on the legal system. Are we doing civil or common?
Is mediation on the table--
No, we're doing TV law, okay?
We say what we think,
and then at the end, everyone gets to vote on
whether they reckon Saskia is guilty or not.
Yeah, and then we're going to drown her in the pool.
Okay, well, before that, I need a recess to confer with my client...
- and a judge to grant one. - Fine.
Forgettable Laura, you're it.
What? Why me?
Because everyone shits on you equally, so you'll be impartial.
Court adjourned
until, uh...
later?
Um...
Oi!
Sas! What's our plan?
Do you know what went through my head last night after they ambushed me?
I don't know. Probably something about pretending not to talk to a mop?
Relief. I don't have to be this person any more.
That's all well and good for you and your Natalie Portman cheekbones,
but we both know that if they shave my head,
I'm going to look like Sir Ben Kingsley.
So, come on, please. What's our story?
The truth is freeing, Zoe.
Just let it play out.
Sas, they have a witness.
If they saw you, then they saw me, too.
Oh, shit!
You said Phoebe's been blackmailing you, right?
There's got to be something about that in here.
Why are you doing this?
I did ask for a bitch.
And I got one.
It's only now that I can see what toll that took on you.
It did take a toll.
Really freaked me out how easily it came back, too.
- And when Sandy... - La, la, la, la, la.
I don't want to hear anything I can't unhear, okay?
You know what? In fact, let's just go with the old
"you keep your lips sealed" strategy.
Just let me do the talking.
Chicago style. Time to Razzle Dazzle them.
Oh, alas, the brew hath not breweth.
But you can't expect me
to sit through Legally Blonde IRL without a drink.
Oh, hell, no.
- What? What? Oh, my God. - No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
It's her again.
No, it was just a really big crow flying past. Yeah.
It's a third sighting this week.
Sister Bicky is haunting us.
Megan, what are we going to do?
Okay.
Well, the only thing we can do.
- Exorcism. - Sleep with the lights on.
- What? - We're gonna need some holy water.
Dear bitches, don't be mad I've left. I...
realised... Oh!
Not Queen's English, dum-dum. Realised with a "Z".
- Do you have--
Tampering with evidence, are we, huh? Tight.
What?
No! That's... How dare you?
Zoe, I saw you that night,
running after Saskia like a little lapdog.
But, you know, when Genevieve asks for my eyewitness statement,
I could say...
that I only saw Saskia.
Have you ever had a normal human interaction in your life, Phoebe?
One where you weren't bending the other person over the whole time?
Does not compute.
No, I have not. Electric Blue by lunchtime.
You know, if I can save Saskia with this letter,
maybe I can save myself too.
You sound very confident, Ally McBeal, but do we have a deal?
Like I have a choice.
Honestly, I'm just surprised that you didn't fuck me over sooner,
- so thank you for that, I guess. - You're so welcome,
my sweet Zoe.
I've been so busy bending over much bigger fish.
Wait.
What does "Electric Blue" mean?
And tell me, Megan, is this the letter you found
while looking for mushrooms with Tegan?
Oh, yes, but can we speed this up? Some of us have things to do.
Like everyone else who bailed on this shit.
Would you read the letter out, please, Megan?
"Dear bitches. Please don't be mad I've left.
-"I realised-- " - Let me cut you off there.
Please spell out that last word.
- I. It's spelled with a fucking "I". - No, "realised."
Fine. R-E-A-L-I-Z-E-D--
Hah! Australian spelling.
Wait, what? I don't...
I swear this had an "S" not a "Z" in it.
Well, obviously, it's been tampered with.
Oi! You're supposed to wait for me to dismiss you!
It's okay. I have no further questions for the witness.
Correct me if I'm wrong, Genevieve,
but you claim that the note has been tampered with?
Absolutely.
Right, so, I mean, shouldn't it then be thrown out as evidence?
It still proves foul play because the bag's here and Sandy's not.
Right. Right, right, right, right.
So the contents of the letter remain relevant,
- spelling aside? - Yes.
Yes, so Sandy did write it and it hasn't been tampered with?
No, I mean, it's forged.
Okay, so it's not not been tampered with?
- Is that what you're saying? - What?
No, yes, it's not... It's, yes, been... Stop mixing my words.
What, indeed, Genevieve? Beyond reasonable doubt?
The prosecution can't even tell you whether this letter is evidence or not.
- Throw it out, Judge Forgettable Laura. - Objection!
She's trying to Razzle Dazzle me.
And her blazer is too flashy. It's actually quite distracting.
Overruled.
I don't know what just happened, but...
she beat you.
Fine.
Then I call my eyewitness.
Doesn't fit.
Objection. Relevance?
None. I've just always wanted to do that.
Phoebe, can you please tell the ladies of the court
what you saw the night that Sandy went missing?
I was on the outskirts of the campus,
looking for reception under the soft glimmer of the moonlight.
What's that?
Sandy's cries echoing on the wind.
Objection.
- Yeah, stop milking it. - Fine.
- I saw Saskia and...
And she was walking away from the water's edge where the boat was.
Alone.
And that was the last time anyone saw Sandy.
- That's not what happened. - Shh. Stop talking.
No further questions, Your Honour.
Tell me, Phoebe, did you see Saskia murder Sandy?
Well, she was walking from the water's edge--
So what you really saw was a woman walking through the school grounds.
You say potato,
I say murderer.
Phoebe...
You found Sandy's D'Amiré bag weeks ago, didn't you?
What?
- I don't recall. - But you do remember the,
what was it, the glimmer of moonlight?
It's very convenient.
I assert that you found that bag weeks ago.
In which case, why didn't you say anything when we were all looking for Sandy?
Because she was fucking annoying, and it was peaceful without her.
Or did you find the bag and use it to your advantage?
- I don't follow. - What did you do with the bag, Phoebe?
- I remind you that you are under oath. - We actually didn't do the oath bit.
I took it to Saskia.
Oh, come on. As if you're shocked.
I found the bag,
I took it to Saskia, and we made a deal.
And if any of you had watched The Wire, then you'd know it was fucking worth it.
So you admit it. You extorted Saskia.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I did.
I blackmailed her, and I'd fucking blackmail her again, too.
Well, that's proof.
The fact that Saskia is blackmailable at all says she's guilty.
No, the only thing that you have proven here today, Genevieve,
is that your star witness is a goddamn crook.
In fact, once we're done with Saskia, we should be prosecuting Phoebe next.
What?
We should be charging her with extortion,
embezzling Mooncups, battery gauging.
This isn't about Phoebe! It's about what a fucking bitch Saskia is!
And there you have it, ladies.
The real reason that we are all here.
Your Honour...
I implore you to dismiss this case on the basis
that it is nothing more than Genevieve's personal vendetta against Saskia
for a bit of high school bullying.
You're right.
It's fucking personal.
One time.
One fucking time, she heard me do a shit at school.
And do you think she ever let me live that down?
No.
No, instead, she followed me into the bathrooms
any chance she could, and she would just wait...
...like a fucking psycho.
Saskia would just wait there listening for a plop,
until plop I could no more.
- It's not funny.
Do you know what fecal impaction does to a teenage girl's bowels?
I needed heat packs, pelvic floor physio,
my mum had to pay for psychologists
to help me with the constant rumination of planning
when, where, how I'd shit in public.
I have suffered because Saskia Vanderbeek
thought it would be funny to make me a prisoner of my own body.
So you can all laugh and call me Pepé Le Poo,
but I still live with this... every day.
She was abusive.
There's no other word for it.
I'm sorry that happened to you, Genevieve.
But Saskia is not on trial for being a bad person.
Her character is not relevant.
Oh, really? Isn't a murderer just a really bad bully?
You told everyone that my mum had to sell her hair to pay for my tuition.
She was going through chemo, Saskia.
Yeah, I'm really sorry, Phoebe.
You made me skip meals with you until I became anaemic.
- I know. I know I did. - Saskia, let's not admit to--
Guys, this was kind of my moment.
You pretended like I didn't exist for five years.
You started a rumour that I was born with an extra Y chromosome.
And that my favourite Destiny's Child was Michelle.
- Oh, that one's fucked. - You said I was too fat for dressage,
that the horse should ride me.
Yeah, I know. And there's no excuse for any of it.
Saskia, please, just let me handle this.
You screamed at me when I wore Ugg boots with short skirts
because you said that that was your look.
It was everyone's look, Sas.
Okay, Forgettable Laura, bang your little hammer.
I racked up a $200 bill on my dad's work phone
texting the Australian Idol number because you said
that you would kill yourself if Paulini was voted out.
- Teresa, please, - Oh, how can I possibly forget?
You told them to cut off my fucking toe!
Order! Order!
Let's take lunch.
We can reconvene after, but first...
You never did your part of the group assignments and that...
meant my work was always marked down.
I had to repeat year nine...
...again.
You took Zoe from me.
I'm not sure I ever got over that.
Just, please,
stay silent.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
I command you to...
Scull!
Scull, scull! Scull! Scull! Scull! Scull!
What you got? What you got?
A pulpy vintage...
- with a subtle hint of guilt. - Really?
Because I was getting sweaty Jesus
with strong daddy issues aromas, do you know what I'm saying?
Let me taste again. Let me taste again.
In the name of the Mother,
the Daughter, and the Mercury rising-- Oh, fuck!
It's her again.
Megan, we got too distracted by the church wine.
We forgot to look for the Holy Water.
I've seen you chug beer out of a shoe too many times to count.
Park your judgement.
- For your Wednesday-night ritual. - What?
- You are fucking smashing it, mate. - Thank you.
- I'm pretty good at this. - Yeah, you are.
Go get her, Amelia Finch.
Like Atticus Finch?
I got it.
I call my next witness... Zoe Miller.
Wait, what?
How well do you know the defendant?
Um, yeah, pretty well.
Not like super well, though.
How well does anyone really know anyone?
Excuse me.
Butch Melanie, don't draw my burps.
Would you consider yourself part of Saskia's click, the Too Cools?
- What?
Shit, Zoe.
I thought you were just being dramatic.
Mm-mm.
Thought I'd throw you up here and you'd be fine.
No. Got the nerps.
Nervous burps. Listen, Amelia.
I know we're, like, just making up. Such a gross term.
I really want to help you. It's just that a lot of shit coming up for me right now.
You know? Like, literally shit's coming up.
Speak up. We can't hear you.
I said a lot of shit is coming up for me right now.
The last time I was on the stand, the judge made me
choose which parent I wanted to live with, so I just need a minute.
Oh.
Objection. This is gross and has nothing to do with Saskia murdering Sandy.
Yeah, let's just throw her off the bell tower.
Chop her up!
Hey.
Guys.
...the bell tower and it's done.
- Hey!
Yeah, okay.
- Saskia can be a bitch.
But don't pretend like you haven't all benefited from that.
Okay? Because this is a two-way street. She led and we followed.
I am living-proof.
We put women like Saskia up on pedestals,
and then the minute they stumble, we fucking relish it.
But we don't expect the same kind of exceptionalism for men.
Do we?
We don't prosecute them for every tiny little fuck-up.
No, they get promoted. They get podcasts.
They get their pick of 12 fucking hotties on national television,
even though they've got the personality of a carrot.
High school fucks all of us up, and Saskia is no different.
Yeah, okay, Genevieve, she bullied you.
That sucks. She was a cunt.
But we wouldn't even be here having this stupid trial in the first place
if Saskia hadn't kept us alive long enough to do it.
And nobody else here can say that.
Do we slow clap?
Not the time.
I would like to say something. It's time the truth came out.
- No. - Recess. I request an immediate recess.
Well, just take one then.
Let's go.
She's feeling guilty. And she's feeling the heat.
Fuck.
And the Lord said to thee
that the potato will be the most divine of all the vegetables,
for it shall make chips and hash browns.
Dude, stop preaching about potatoes
and come up with an incantation to help us find this shit.
You know, like, "Mother Mary, Full of Grace,
help us find a parking space."
Hey! Okay. I got you.
I got you. Okay, um...
- Give me a beat. - All right.
♪ Blessed Virgin with the sexy saunter Help us find ♪
♪ The Holy Water ♪
Slay.
Hey, what the hell? I was going to do a slut drop.
I didn't know there was a toilet here?
What, do you think because a priest pissed in there,
the toilet water's holy or some shit?
Do you hear yourself?
Toilet, uh, water.
- And Genevieve knew about it. - What the fuck?
Pepé has a secret shitter.
I object.
Time to bail, Zo-Zo.
It's set sail, baby.
Oh! No, no, no. What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Fuck you, Super Glue. You don't do shit.
All right.
Time to face the clippers, Zo-Zo.
Zoe is right.
High school really fucks you up.
This place really sucked me back in.
I didn't kill Sandy.
But I did push her out to sea, and that's pretty much
as good as killing her, isn't it? For that, I should be punished.
But, for as powerful as you think I am...
there is always someone above you.
And I know what it's like to have that power taken from you.
For the last year of school,
I was in a secret relationship with Mr. Garrity.
Although I've actually learned I wasn't the only one.
There are words, really extreme words,
that therapists have used to describe what happened to me,
and I never related to them until coming back here.
Sometimes I think it would be easier
if he were a monster because the days...
The days where I believed that he loved me are
the shittest ones.
Because I know now that he couldn't possibly have loved me.
And I'm not making excuses.
I've done unforgivable things
to every single one of you.
It's just being back here has made me really fucking angry, and I...
Yeah, I took it out on all of you, and it's not fair.
But what is?
There's something I need to say.
J'accuse!
Genevieve's got a secret toilet.
Can you blame me after everything Saskia put me through?
And, I'm sorry, that was a lovely little speech,
but Saskia was a bitch before grade 12.
Be that as it may, Pepé,
we've been blowing mud into literal mud for months.
And after all this time, you've had your own private pisser?
And she's been hiding triple-ply.
So sue me!
- Vote cast!
We said that we'd vote,
so fucking scream if you think that we should shave
both Saskia and Genevieve's head.
- What?
Yes, yes, yes!
- You are dead! - Shave bitch. Shave!
The reign of terror ends now!
Please, please, it's just a toilet.
She actually killed someone.
Nothing tastes as good as baldness.
Shouldn't we do something about this?
There's not much we can do.
Justice, as they say, has been served.
I don't do it. I don't do cardio.
What's the word for when someone does something really shitty,
and gets away with it?
Scot-free?
I know, right?
Saskia kills someone and only cops a haircut.
Shave! Shave! Shave!
Girls!
What in heck do you call this abomination?
The power of Christ compels you.
What the fuck, guys?
Oh, no, don't worry. She's just a ghost.
Oh, shit.
I think we just killed the teacher.