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Happy Gilmore: My name is Happy Gilmore. Ever since I was old enough to skate, I loved hockey. I wasn't really the greatest skater though. But, that didn't stop my dad from teachin' me the secret of smackin' the greatest slap shot. My dad worshipped hockey. My mom didn't. That's why she moved to Egypt, where there isn't a hockey rink within 1,500 miles. Dad always took me to games to cheer for our favorite player, Terry O'Rielly, the tasmanian devil. He wasn't the biggest guy in the league, but he feared nobody, just like me. Handsome fella, huh? He always said that when I grew up, I could be anything I wanted to be. But I didn't want to be anything but a hockey player. Yeah, my childhood was going great, but life is full of surprises.
(Hockey player hits puck through glass smacking Happy's dad unconsious)
After the funeral, I was sent to live with my grandma in Waterbury. I was kinda nervous since I really didn't know here that well. But she dressed like Gene Simmons from KISS to cheer me up. She's the sweetest person in the world. See after my Dad died, I developed kind of a short fuse. That kid right there just stole my party blower, and instead of asking for it back, I felt I had to belt him in the head a bunch of times with a hammer. Look at me go. But most of the time, I was quick to say I was sorry. During high school, I played junior hockey and still hold 2 league records. Most time spent in a penalty box, and I was the only guy to ever take off his skate and try to stab somebody. After I graduated, I had a lot of different jobs. I was a road worker, a janitor, a security guard, a gas station attendant, and a plumber. Lately, I've been working in construction. It's not a bad racket. I'm a pretty good shot with a nail gun. But one day, my boss, Mr. Larson, got in the way. Apparently he also has a very short fuse. Look at that monster. He got a few lucky punches in there, but I still feel I won the fight. Anyways, those jobs weren't for me. I was put on this planet for one reason: to play hockey.

Happy: That's my puck baby! Don't you ever touch my puck!

Coach #1: Number 18? Is that Gilmore again? How many times has this guy tried out anyways?

Coach #2: At least 10 times. The guy has a lot of intensity.

Coach #1: Not a real strong skater though.

Coach #2: Ain't the best puck handler, either.

Coach #1: Yeah, but, My God...

Coach #2: What a shot!

Happy: Dammit! Is that goal regulation size or what? Geez! (slips and falls)

Coach #1: Number 1, Number 52, Number 16...

Happy: They saw my power man, ain't no way they gonna dog me this year.

Coach #1: Number 9, and Number 43. For the rest of you, if your number wasn't called, better luck next year.

Happy: Woah, hey coach, what's goin' on here, man? What about me?

Coach #1: Gilmore, Gilmore, I called your number didn't I?

Happy: No, no, no you didn't.

Coach #1: Well better luck next year! (laughs)

Happy: Now, that wasn't very nice!

(Happy starts beating Coach #1 up and elbows everyone out of the way)

Happy: You think you're better than me?

----------------------------------------------------

(Happy walks up to his apartment and meets his girlfriend)

Happy: Hey where you goin? I got us Subway.

Terri: I already ate.

Happy: Well, I went to high school with the guy who works there so we got extra meatballs.

Terri: Great. I gotta run. See you later.

Happy: Hey, can you just stick around? I kinda had a rough day.

Terri: Bye.

Happy: When you getting back?

Terri: Never.

(Happy unlocks his apartment and talks on his intercom to the outside)

Happy: Terri, wait! Wait! Hold on a second, babe!

Terri: Yeah.

Happy: You're not going for good are ya, honey?

Terri: You're going nowhere, Happy, and you're taking me with you. All you ever talk about is being a pro hockey player, but there's a problem. You're not any good.

Happy: I am good. You know what? You're a lousy kindergarten teacher. I've seen those finger paintings you bring home and they suck!

Happy: I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean that. I think they're excellent finger paintings. Please don't go.

Terri: I am not spending the rest of my life with a loser! I'm gone.

Happy: Good, then get the hell out of my life. Who need you? Beat it! Leave me alone.

Happy: I'm sorry babe, I didn't mean that either. I just yell sometimes 'cause I get so scared. Scared of being a nobody. Why don't you just come back upstairs, honey. I'll give you the old Smoochy-smoo, kissy-wissy. Hmmm? You know Happy's gonna make everything okay. (Starts licking the intercom.)

(Kid stares at the intercom from the outside)

Happy: (Singing) "I want to kiss you all over. And over again and again. I want to kiss you all over. (Imitating guitar) 'Til the night closes in! 'Til the night closes in!

(Door opens and Happy's maid smiles.)

Happy: Terri!? (Happy sees maid and waves)

--------------------------------------------------------

(Next Day)

(Phone rings and Happy answers it)

Happy: (Into phone) Yeah? Huh? Alright sit tight, I'll be right over.

Maid: (In Happy's clothes) Hey! You don't want breakfast?

(Happy's car pulls up to his Grandma's house)

Happy: Grandma? Grandma? (Sees two men lifting his Grandma's couch.) Hey put that stuff down it's my grandmother's. (Hops in couch dropping it to the floor.)

Mover #1: Cut it out, kid. We're just doing our jobs.

Happy: What are you talking about?

I.R.S. Guy: Your grandmother hasn't paid her taxes in over a decade.

Happy: What? Grandma? You didn't pay your taxes?

Happy's Grandma: I would have. But I didn't have any money.

Happy: Where you taking all her stuff?

I.R.S. Guy: I'm not taking her stuff, okay? The government is. It's not like I'm taking your stuff over to my place, or something like that, alright? So don't get mad at me.

Happy: But she's an old lady. Look at her, she's old. You can't just take her stuff, she's too old.

I.R.S. Guy: I have no discretion here. Her stuff is now our stuff.

Happy: Well, at least we got the house right? I mean I can bring furniture from my place over here. We're going to be okay, Grandma.

I.R.S. Guy: Now you're really going to be mad at me. I have to take the house too.

Happy: Now look pal, my Grandfather built this place with his bare hands. My Grandma has been here over 60 years. You can't take her house.

I.R.S. Guy: Mrs. Gilmore owes the I.R.S. $270,000 in back taxes. We have to take the house. And if you can't get the money in 90 days, we're going to have to sell the house to someone else. You hate me don't you?

Happy: No, no, no, I don't hate you.

(I.R.S. is thrown out the window by Happy.)

I.R.S. Guy: He hates me.

-----------------------------------------------

(Happy drives his Grandma to the retirement home)

Happy: Don't worry Grandma, everything's gonna be alright. Hey look at this place, Silver Acres Rest Home. It looks like more of a country club than a rest home. Nice grass, nice people. I hope you brought your bathing suit. I'm telling you, this place is perfect, you're gonna make friends in no time.

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Page Updated Thu May 31, 2001 9:19pm EDT