Setting: Another lame Troy and Gabriella duet. Instead, I'll dedicate this song to the only scene from the movie that rang true. Troy and Chad pretend to donate their gym lockers to dorky sophomores Jimmie and Donny, only to steal their clothes and make them run nude (albeit wrapped in towels) through the school. They finish their humiliation marathon in the drama department, where the teacher gives them, not the jocks, detention.
Troy and Chad: We know that you look up to us, and sophomore year is rough
So we'll give you our lockers, here, so kids will think you're tough
Let us carry your clothes for you, we'll put them right in place
-- That means that we'll abscond with them while you must naked race
Jimmie and Donny: Will it be this way forever? Will we ever have a chance?
Or will they always laugh at us, like "Jimmie, where's your pants?"
Please, sirs, we'll be so nice to you, we'll give you what you need
See, Jimmie here's a stoner, he'll hook you up with weed
Troy and Chad: I'm afraid your future's set in stone
And we're the one throwing the rocks
Did you think we'd just leave you alone
Like fat cheerleader Martha Cox?
Well, that was way back in the High School Musical days
But you're in real high school now, so enjoy getting hazed!
Jimmie and Donny: Can we have this chance?
Why do you have to make the fun?
We don't even sing and dance
Why are we the fruity ones?
Teacher: Young men, you're getting detention for being without shorts
I know who's actually to blame, but we need those guys for sports.
Setting: Gabriella and Troy turn a minor inconvenience (short-term separation) into a dramatic meltdown fueled with lines like "I guess my heart doesn't know it's in high school."
Sample lyric: "A Cinderella with no shoe/and a prince that doesn't know he's lost"
Gabriella: I guess I should've known better
Than to do things the way we did
But things just kept getting wetter
And now I'm gonna have a kid
Troy: Walk away, walk away
You little Einstein nerd
Walk away, walk away
I'll leave you like Matt Leinart
Baby's disembodied voice: I'm like little Cole Leinart! Gabriella: This is just as dumb as Juno
But somehow even less funny
Raising a baby, you know
Costs so much fucking money
Or should I just walk away
Leave the brat on the orphanage door
Walk away, walk away
Leave a mess on the clinic's floor
Baby: I'm just a tiny worm, helpless and fetal
Please kill me now, keep me out of the sequels
Setting: As he attempts to decide between basketball and drama, Troy enters the school gym after hours.
Sample lyric: "Aaughhhhhh!"
Troy: I'm kickin' down the walls
Now it's raining basketballs
And as the orbs pummel my head
I wonder: Drama fag instead?
I don't know where to go
What's the right team?
Stay on the court or turn homo
It makes me wanna scream
To be, or not to be a queer
That question drives me crazy
And what makes the problem more severe
Is Gabriella's bastard baby
I'm dancing like a stripper, with a transparent pole
Basketball might have my heart, but singing's got my soul
Fuck it, I'm just gonna join up with the nearest chorus line
Run away with Ryan, leave Gaby far behind
I'm having a breakdown, I'm screaming with rage
I'm seeing it all go black now, collapsing on the stage
Drama Teacher, over Troy's prone body: High school can be a partner in the process of self-discovery
And with some therapy and drugs, you'll make a full recovery
Sleeping with AC is at this point a basic human right. But if you're one of the doomed souls forced to deal with global warming on a nightly basis, here's an hourly breakdown on how to get the most out of your inferno hellscape of a bedroom.
Some of the Internet's most veteran anatomy experts convened to discuss the stolen nude photos of Jennifer Lawrence and other beautiful celebrities.
We're spelunking through the movie catacombs this week. Join us, won't you?
Here are some cool music things, maybe u should check them out. And/or here are some terrible music things, maybe u should check them out if u like to laugh or maybe u should avoid them if u get really angry when u see something stupid.