We are here today
to mourn the loss of a very special young woman.
Forgetab...
Laura Cunningham, who was the captain of the debating team.
Oh, my mistake, dear. Of course. Formidable cox in the rowing team.
Sorry, Sister. That was actually me.
Uh, back-up dancer in the "Rock is Dead" vid?
- Before our time. - Oh, Christ on a bike,
- just hit the tape, Genevieve.
♪ Amazing grace ♪
♪ How sweet the sound ♪
Nice of you to mourn me, ladies.
Oh, no.
- Just a pity I'm not dead. - This is actually for me.
- No, no, no.
Run, Saskia!
I can explain. I've changed.
That's okay. I can pivot.
- Yah!
- Figures. Revenge kick to the cunt. - Totes justified.
No, no, no, no, Sandra Dee, Sandra Dee, you don't have to do this.
Whoa. Hey, Sandy. Whoa!
What has Zoe ever done to you, huh?
- Are you serious? She... - Okay!
I...
- I... - Spit it out, Zoe!
I helped Saskia push Sandy out to sea.
- There it is.
- And you've just been sitting on this? - I know, I hate myself.
Especially after everything we put Saskia through?
- I wish I was dead.
What's wrong with you...
Son of a bitch!
In the back, Sandy? You kidding me?
You're a backstabbing bitch, Zoe. Backstabbing bitches get backstabbed.
And you!
Me? What did I do?
Catch on, girls. Catch on.
Hold me down all you like, ladies. The damage is already done.
Don't you love the smell of smoked lettuce in the morning, girls?
Oh, shit. The crops!
Sorry.
Well, they do say revenge is a dish best served char grilled.
I just came back to fuck you all up and starve you out,
so if someone would kindly return my D'Amiré bag, I will be on my way
and Teresa will be coming with me.
- Sandy, what is your problem?
Yeah, Sandy, what the hell?
Oh, it stinks.
Seagull.
Goes down smooth, doesn't always stay there.
What's out there, Sandy?
- How's the market? - Is Brisbane gone?
Is there anything left?
There's nothing, okay?
Just endless fucking ocean.
Hey, Mels.
Does that mean that my embryos are gone?
Mels, could you... Little help here?
Yeah, no.
That's not something that I can help you with.
In fact, uh, ladies, just a public service announcement.
Zoe is not to be helped, okay?
If she asks you to take the knife out of her backstabbing back,
- please politely decline. - Yeah, the old freeze out.
I know what that feels like.
- That is exactly what I mean. - Okay, what have I missed?
I didn't know what Saskia was making me do.
- It was pretty obvious. - And also, I've been stabbed.
- I'm a victim. - Oh, my God.
Okay, ladies of Ridge Heights, let's not panic.
Things will regrow in a month,
or three, and in the meantime, we'll ration these out.
What's 12 cherry tomatoes divided by the whole class
multiplied by a month?
I'm not doing this.
Well, we all know maths isn't your strong suit, Amelia.
- Anyone else? - No, I mean,
if this is the last of the food,
if the proposition is half a fucking lettuce leaf a day and...
if no one is coming to save us, then...
I think we're done here, right?
Huh?
What the hell? No, we're not done here, Amelia.
- Yeah. We should finish my funeral first. - Excuse me. We're ignoring her.
Oh, sorry.
Come on, guys.
Did we really think that of all the people on the planet,
we were the only ones that were meant to survive?
That's, like, the most millennial thing I've ever fucking heard.
Yeah, but we know how to do this.
We know how to survive. We just have to re-plan.
- No. - We didn't just make fire.
We made electricity, you know?
We're pretty much a week away
from reinventing social media at this point.
- Come on, guys. - But it doesn't matter.
Because what's the point?
There's no finish line, right? When does it end?
We say when it ends. We survived longer than most,
that's great, but we're not going to beat this.
It's a fucking apocalypse.
Hang on. Do we really believe that this chick
- survived out at sea by herself? - Look at her.
Sandy couldn't even go to the tuck shop alone.
Are we actually going to top ourselves
because this fucking lunatic claims that there's no one else out there?
I know we're supposed to be freezing her out
but are you pitching we kill ourselves?
No, I'm pitching that we stop exhausting ourselves with survival.
It's the same thing.
I'm pitching that, that,
that we actually enjoy ourselves for one fucking minute
and then we meet our fate head on.
I'm pitching...
I guess I'm pitching a fucking farewell party.
Oh, 'cause now you're fun.
Fuck it. I'm in.
No, you're coming with me.
Sandy, stop!
Everything I've been holding on for is gone.
My husband, my embryos, my entire life.
Let's cook everything we have left over in the tuck shop.
None of this watery lentil shit.
- I'm in. - All right. Cool.
I've got some moonshine ready to roll if you want to up the ante.
- Yes. - Oh, shut the fuck up, Tegan.
Um, sorry, guys, but we are not having a party.
Thank you, Pepé. Jesus.
Because the party to end all parties isn't called a party.
It's called a motherfucking end-of-year formal!
Let's talk themes for the formal.
I've already vetoed Under the Sea because it's too on-the-nose.
And I think what might be better is A Night in Paris.
Guys, let's not overthink this. The theme is obviously...
Last Night on Earth.
Mmm.
No? I'm sorry. I'm just a bit excited. I missed the formal the first time around.
You missed the Diplo incident then.
- Uh, Forgettable Laura, shh!
No, no, no...
The Diplo incident?
Genevieve was scammed by a fake Diplo who said he'd DJ our formal
if she collected $20,000 from the student body.
It was a very convincing email chain.
And then Saskia, she got...
I asked my dad to book Thirsty Merc at the last minute,
and people still talk about that party to this day.
- What? - So, yeah,
I know I'm not, like, "officially" on the planning committee,
but if you need any help...
No, you're not.
Genevieve, the more, the merrier. Get in here.
Amazing.
So, guys, this is the last party that humankind will ever throw,
so I want all your bad ideas.
We could have a buffet with the last of the food.
I love that, but bigger. A bacchanal!
- Yo, I went to a foam party once. - Doesn't mean you should do it again.
Foam is a must. As is a fight club. I've always wanted to fuck a bitch up.
Ooh, does anybody know how to fight well?
What about a makeup station?
I have always wanted a fringe.
There was a front flip I never landed in Year 9 P.E.
I'm going to find that mini-tramp.
Prove Mr. Frankopoulous wrong.
Great. We should, um, we should write this down.
Don't you think?
Uh, committee chair has right of the whiteboard markers.
- Thank you. - Oh, okay. Yeah.
I'm just trying to help if it's...
Okay, sorry. Yeah.
You guys work on that.
I'm going to go find those unfun mushrooms to cook up.
Who knows? Maybe I'll even find some fun ones.
Where's that chick been hiding, right?
Don't distract.
Sister, this party, I've begged them not to go through with it,
but somebody with a bit of authority needs to put a stop to all this.
Real friggin' mature for a woman of the cloth.
You know, a freeze out doesn't mean you literally freeze, right?
Wait. Are you... Are you going to this thing?
Fucking unbelievable.
Can you at least help me get this knife out of my back?
If Year 9 religion taught me anything, it's that your boy JC
was only on the cross for an hour before they took mercy on him, so...
- Six. - Come again?
My boy JC was on the cross for six hours,
so you have a ways to go.
Useless!
Look at you, struggling without your little sidekick.
At least Tegan would be a match for me.
Tegan is her own person
upon whom I no longer co-depend.
- Whoa! You psycho pirate.
I never did sports, so you better hope
I don't accidentally hit some something I wasn't aiming for.
Get me Teresa and my bag.
Why are you so obsessed with Teresa?
- Ugh. - How dare you?
Lamington's an Australian delicacy.
What time's your flight again, you ungrateful shit?
Let us call you a cab.
Or better yet, customs. Someone deport this loser ASAP!
Get out of Australia. Right now. First flight back.
Pack your bags and leave.
Don't think about your embryos, Teabag.
Think about the party!
Since you've managed to convince everyone on this stupid island not to help me,
including a nun, who seems to have forgotten the virtue of forgiveness,
I guess I'm gonna have to get this bad boy out myself.
Oh, fuck.
Ow!
I think she got a nerve or something.
Ah! Yes, you did it. The last chicken.
Great work, Forgettable Laura. Let's find a cage for it.
I don't want to kill it yet.
I have grand plans for you, my Kentucky fried friend.
Can you hear yourself?
So I'm the bad guy because I pushed one lousy person out to sea,
and yet you are about to lead our entire class
into some kind of Jonestown situation, and you're whistling while you work.
Are you okay?
Is this because you're off your meds?
I've been off my meds a day, you dickhead.
What you're actually witnessing, Zoe,
is the lightness of not caring about,
about the future, about survival.
But most importantly about you.
I don't have to think about how much longer we're going to be
stuck here together because it's just all gonna be over soon.
And I just... I can't bloody wait.
Look, I know I let you down, okay?
So, fine, give up on me. No problem.
But please, Mels, don't give up on this.
Don't give up on surviving.
Mushies are ready, Teabag.
Watch your back.
It just shit on me.
Let's see you bitches have a party without music!
- Teresa!
What the fuck, Sandy?
Teresa, get back here!
Teresa!
Get the hell back in here.
Ugh!
Shut up!
- Come on, you little bitch!
- Oh, my God, this is amazing. - Wow.
What?
Oh, my God!
Yay.
Okay, this almost trumps Thirsty Merc. Saskia strikes again.
It was actually all Genevieve.
The creative vision, the logistics, the styling.
I mean, no one else is fit to plan the last formal in human history. Right?
Good job.
Come in!
I just, you know, broke up some foam pieces for the pit and stuff.
Hey, did you see the graffiti?
It was all Genevieve.
Can you believe it? This all just came from her head.
- She's a mastermind. - Just shit on me already, would you?
This fake nice bullshit is so much worse.
But I'm not being fake. I'm...
Hey, I thought that we were okay.
I am sorry, Genevieve.
Let the beat drop.
- Whoo!
What the hell is this shit?
Christian rock is all that was left.
Zoe snapped all the CDs. I had to improvise.
Oh, yeah, okay, improvise...
Hey, you're gonna dance and you're gonna like it, okay?
Five, six, seven, eight, and dance.
Look, I can't change the fact that I fucked you up, but...
you spent all of high school making things happen for everyone else.
And I just... I think you deserve to enjoy yourself.
- Okay, but the drink allocations... - Is something I can handle.
Now, scull, Genevieve.
Scull, scull, scull, scull, scull, scull.
Okay. Okay.
Scull, scull, scull!
Go, go, go, go!
Whoa!
Fuck you, Franko.
Zero out of ten for skill, but ten out of ten for lols, right, Megs?
I've got to get my bucket back!
Amelia. Amelia. Please don't do this.
Oh! Did no one tell you, Zoe? You're not invited.
Megan, this is dumb.
- What?
Her feet are like a vice. It makes no sense.
Okay. Um...
- Fuck, fuck, fuck! - Oh, my God.
Who nipple cripples?
Megan, what do I do? Do I pull her off or what?
Don't pull her off, my nips will rip with her!
Okay, um, um...
Fucking cunt, you let go!
Not until you let go of Megan.
Why the fuck do you even care? You're not even friends anymore.
Get me Teresa and I'll let go.
Okay, yeah, maybe we weren't friends, but then I realized everyone sucks.
Took you long enough.
Yes, and I realized, hey, 18-year-old me thought she wanted more friends.
Oh, my gosh. She's twisting.
Yeah, but then I thought 18-year-old me also thought she liked boys
and that cargo pants were the height of fashion.
- And I'm really sorry. - Apology accepted.
- Get her off.
You two literally make me sick.
I am so proud of you for getting sober,
but you should just ditch her and come to formal with me, okay?
- Really? - It's the last party ever, so who cares?
Oh, I want to but, if I'm being honest, I sort of like being off the booze.
I just...
I feel things again, and if this really is the last party ever,
I want to feel that, too.
Wow. Okay.
Ooh!
I didn't think I'd ever say this, but, um,
fuck it, let's just go sober.
Reckon we can just tie her up again and leave her?
You're thinking with your noggin.
Start thinking with your nips.
Let's go.
Hey, buddy.
Thought this might make you feel a bit better.
Just...
Um...
It was a bit of a dog move, what Sas and I did to you.
I'm sorry, Sandy. Really.
You can't carry the weak.
That's survival. I get it.
Should've seen it coming, really. The three of you never wanted me around.
What do you mean, three of us?
Teresa wasn't there the night we pushed you out.
Exactly.
She never led the charge, but she never stopped
the two of you from shitting on me either, so...
Oh, yes!
I'm learning it's the things you don't say that get you in the most trouble.
Oh, God.
I keep forgetting.
Oh, I don't know, Sandy.
I spent my whole life trying to fit in with those girls.
And now, because of what I did to you, I've just completely stuffed it up.
But... it's not fair that you lose out
just because I'm a desperate numpty.
- So you'll free me? - Hell, no.
Are you kidding me? You've got fucking seagull heads around your neck.
No, but us rejects deserve a last supper, too.
So what do you say I get us some food?
- I presume you're still gluten-free? - Hmm.
My microbiota is still clean as fuck.
Great.
- Hey, Zo. - Mmm?
Thanks for my bag.
It's a D'Amiré, don't you know?
No way.
Hello, mate.
Go on, bud. Go on, mate, be free.
Here. Here we go.
There you go, buddy.
- Go on. Be free.
Eggies.
Yes. Fucking hell.
Hope you like sunny side up.
Fuck.
Oh! Lady Pirate totally played me.
Disgusting, Sandy.
Hey! Ho! Hey! Ho!
- Hey! - Hi!
You naughty girl! How did you get out?
Want a drink? They're the best.
Drinking is the best.
No, thanks, not drinking right now.
Whoo!
Fight club's over there, ladies.
When did you get so freakishly strong?
Six months, you little bitch!
- Hey! - Where the hell are we going?
Stop, stop, stop, stop.
If you are planning to kill Teresa just because she never stuck up for you,
at least cover up your vomity footprints, you dum-dum.
Uh, wrong. Need her alive.
Oh, okay, well, you also can't force her to live out at sea
until she admits that she's your best friend
in some kind of Stockholm syndrome situation.
Wait, wait a second.
What is that?
You went to the party and gorged yourself.
I made us eggs, Sandy.
- What? No, Zoe. - How thick are you?
No, it's not a food baby.
It's a baby-baby.
That explains the vomiting.
- She's fucking pregnant, Zoe. - Wait.
- How? - How?
Okay, well, when a man and a woman love each other very much,
and they decide to-- Fuck you, skank!
Do you know how lonely it was for me out there?
You'd fuck a Spanish canoeist named Raul too.
Wait. That means that there's not nobody else out there.
That there's at least a fucking Raul out there.
- You lied to us, Sandy. - Yeah, I lied, Zoe. Have you met me?
It was the only way to convince Teresa
to give up on her sad little sea monkeys and come and raise my kid at sea.
Sandy, you can't just replace my embryos.
No, no, no. Please go back to the bit
about there being other people alive out there.
- Thank you. - Why the hell not, Teresa?
Is this not everything you have ever wanted?
You know what? As far as I'm concerned you've been a freaking
dumpster fire of a friend and you basically owe me.
- So, let's go. - Sandy. Sandy.
Who else is out there?
Oh, people, Zoe. People, okay?
There's disease-riddled cruise ships.
There's floating villages of cargo freight.
There's a gang of kids from Perth on jet skis that terrorize fatbergians.
Happy? Now get in the boat, Teresa.
- No, no, no! No! - Sandy!
You're not going anywhere. You are going to march back up there,
and you're gonna tell those women what you know before they eat all the food.
Are you joking?
What do I owe those girls, Zoe? Hmm?
A shitty year in bumfuck nowhere and a gentle push to my death.
The only reason I came back here is to fuck you all up,
take Teresa and...
Whoa, whoa. What the fucking fuck, mate?
Zoe, Zoe, Zoe. You don't need to do that, okay?
Yes, I know. This is incredibly uncool.
I feel very, very yucky about it. But you left me no choice, Sandy.
Now you come up here and you tell them the truth.
Hey, everyone, stop what you're doing and listen.
- T., please come back. - Fuck this!
Hey, guys, do you remember when you were really angry with...
Do you guys remember when you were really angry with me
because I didn't tell you that the world was ending?
Do you remember? This is like the opposite of that.
Okay? Because... This is like the opposite of that
because there are people out there. Jesus Christ.
Amelia!
Hey, Amelia. Jesus Christ, Bicky!
Teresa! Teresa!
Amelia!
Testing, testing, un, deux, trois.
All right, dickheads, listen up.
Amelia, I need to tell you something.
- Oh, boo!
Who let her in?
All right, ladies. You know the drill.
- Ignore her. - Amelia...
Oh, my God, guys!
Shame!
As you all know, I never got to make my school captain speech...
Amelia!
Oh, my God. Have some respect.
...because I ran off with the groundskeeper
and got knocked up with triplets, et cetera.
Uh, anyway, I thought I would do it now. Yeah!
Amelia!
Ladies of Ridge Heights.
What a six months we have had, huh?
Highs, lows.
- Lows - Massive lows, though,
if we're honest.
But look at us now.
Standing on the precipice of nothing.
Staring at our big, bright futures that do not exist.
But we are not daunted.
So raise your glasses to...
to finally getting a fringe
- and oblivion!
Fucking fringe? What?
Without further ado, let me introduce to you ladies,
the guest of honor tonight...
the last chicken!
Let me tell you,
this little lady was not as ready as us to meet her maker.
- Coward! - That's right, Genevieve.
Somehow she escaped the tuck shop
and I found her taking a vengeful little shit in the bubblers.
I've shit around the place.
But behold, ladies.
Behold the last thing we will ever eat.
You've left me no choice.
Wet willy, motherfuckers!
Guys, Sandy's pregnant!
And there's still people out there.
My bad?
So stop fucking eating.
Okay? Because there's still hope. We can still survive.
Yay!
Oh, um, that's lovely, dear, but you've just killed the last chicken.
Shit.