(Van Burens yelling at each other as they enter the French airport)
Saison: (inhales deeply) Ahhh! Do you smell that Baby Brittnay? That is the scent of your homeland.
Deandra: Uh, speaking of smells Saison... I think I may have overdone it with that rotisserie chicken I snuck on the plane. Now tell me about these bidets. Are we talking wiping at all or is it kind of like a post-wipe spritz? How we lookin’?
Belinda: Alright, c’mon girls. Belinda’s horny and late for a check-in at the hotel. Everybody come here, stay close. France is the kidnapping capital of the world.
Liam Neeson: I will ask you one more time: Where is my daughter?
Rachel: And so begins the great French adventure of Rachel and Judith!
Judith: Oh man, Rach! Just think about all the wacky hijinx and antics we’re gonna get into!
Rachel: Yup! Rachel and Judith: Summer Abroad!
Brittnay: Rachel! Get your fucking garbage out of the way!
Rachel: It’s not garbage, Brittnay. It’s my luggage.
Mackenzie: Jesus Christ, Rachel. How fucking poor are you?
Rachel: I’m not poor. It’s just economical. C’mon Judith.
Mackenzie: Ugh, finally! Alright, so I’m gonna-
Rachel: Oh no! I got a rip! Judith! Help me pick this stuff up!
Judith: Jesus Christ, Rach. Did you only pack panties?
Rachel: No, it’s just all the panties are at the bottom. The bag just ripped like right in the panty part.
Belinda: Come on, girls.
Rachel: We’re coming. We’re coming.
Mackenzie: God, what a shitshow that flight was.
Brittnay: Yeah, Trisha really fucking doesn't like flying.
Trisha: (screaming) Aaahhh! Aahhh! I need to be on land! I need to be on land!
Brittnay: Trisha! We're flying over the ocean!
Mackenzie: Trisha 2! Help us!
Trisha 2: But the seatbelt sign is on! (Trisha screams) (present) Yeah, sorry I couldn’t be of much more help.
Brittnay: It’s fine. The air marshals took care of it.
Trisha: (arrives, tied up and on a cart) Thanks Jeff.
Jeff: You’re welcome Miss Cappelletti. Welcome to France.
Trisha: Sorry about the biting!
Football Team: France! France! France! France! France! Haha, yeah alright! Alright!
Matthew: That’s teamwork! Oh hey baby, I’ll come hang out with you after the game. (kisses Trisha on the cheek)
Trisha: Oh ok, good luck! Soooo, what do we want to do first? A little sightseeing? Eiffel Tower? Big Ben? Oooh! The Kremlin!
Mackenzie: No, Trisha.
Trisha: (muffled) Can we throw a shrimp on the barbie?!
Mackenzie: Let me make this clear right now girls. We are not here for a vacation. We are here for the biggest junior international modeling competition in. The. World. Okay~? And if we win, we’re all guaranteed professional modeling contracts for the next five years, baby! We can drop out of high school, travel the world, and never have to deal with any of those mouth-breathing crotch-snatchers ever again.
Brittnay: Sounds fucking good to me.
Than: Yeah, I know, right? Fuck those guys! Ha ha ha ha…
Mackenzie: Than, get the fuck away from us.
Than: Oh, ok, yup, alright. Well I’ll see you guys later. I gotta go figure out which group I’m with this season.
Mackenzie: C’mon girls. We’ve got a meeting with Jeanie in an hour.
Trisha 2: Ok, let me get this. (pushes Trisha on the cart, grunting)
(The Cheer Squad is at Jeannie's studio)
Jeannie: (bursts out of the Team USA room) Listen, Madison! Yes! I understand it’s short notice! But your photoshoot doesn’t matter. I need you here right now to help me!
Madison: (on the other end) Sorry Jeannie, I just can't.
Jeannie: Alright, Madison, you know what? Fuck you! You’re a fucking terrible model and guess what? Last year, we all fucking noticed that you got pregnant and had an abortion. You’re fucking me, just like you fucked that poor little baby who just wanted a life! (hangs up)
Mackenzie: Excuse me, Jeanie?
Jeannie: Who the fuck are you?
Mackenzie: Um, I’m Mackenzie Zales.
Trisha: Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, part-
Mackenzie: (quietly, to Trisha) Shhhh! Shut up Trisha! (turns back to Jeannie) Um, you called me about the modeling competition.
Jeannie: Oh right right right. Thank God. You’re the only person that’s actually been able to make it. Are these the other models you brought?
Brittnay: Well, I’ve never modeled, but I am the hottest girl in my school.
Trisha: We’re not really sure what we’re doing here.
Trisha 2: It’s all been moving pretty fast.
Jeannie: I like them. They sound like models. Is this everyone?
Mackenzie: Yeah. You said to bring my hottest friends.
Jeannie: Alright, well hopefully some of these bitches I have calls out to will show so I can replace the whole team.
Mackenzie: Yeah, what exactly happened to the original team?
Jeannie: You mean the real models? Fuck if I know. We all get here four days ago. Next thing I know, they disappear. Fucking ungrateful cunts. You girls stay here. I’ll go register you and make a few more calls.
Mackenzie: Huh. Do you think it’s weird that the entire team just up and disappeared?
Brittnay: Well, Jeanie seems like a real fucking nightmare. Maybe they just had the right idea. Why don’t we just chalk this up to a free vacation and get the fuck out of here too.
Mackenzie: Are you fucking serious, Brittnay?
Juliette: Perhaps your friend is right. Maybe you should get the fuck out of here.
Mackenzie: E-excuse me? Who the fuck are you?
Juliette: We are the captains of The French Modeling Team. And I suppose you are the replacements for Team USA. Ha ha ha! How unfortunate.
Brittnay: Your face is unfortunate, you sour-mouthed slut. How do you even suck a dick through that mouth? With a straw?
Sofia: Hey! You watch your mouth, you American trash! This is Juliette Bonnet. She is the most successful teen model in all of Europe. She has been the face of Revlon, Givenchy, Chanel, and Gap... (quietly) Kids!
Brittnay: Oh yeah? Well I’m Brittnay Matthews. And I recently killed four grown men in an alley. So why don’t you back the fuck up?!
Juliette: You have to pardon Sofia. She can be a bit... protective. And these are our other two captains, Chloe and Zoe.
Chloe and Zoe: 'Allo!
Trisha: Pfft, their names sound exactly alike.
Trisha 2: I know. So dumb.
Trisha: So dumb.
Mackenzie: So if you guys are Team France, then why aren’t you speaking French?
Juliette: Oh, you stupid Americans! You know nothing outside your tiny little bubble. Nobody speaks French in France. Everybody speaks English with French accents.
Trisha: Oh, well that’ll be convenient.
Trisha 2: Very convenient.
Mackenzie: Look, we just got here. So what’s your fucking problem, bitch?!
Juliette: My problem? I’ll tell you my fucking problem! I live and breathe fashion every day of my life. For the past three years, the United States has won this competition because everybody thinks that America is the new epicenter of the fashion world. New York, Hollywood, they’re bullshit! They’re nothing compared to Paris! This is where fashion was born, and this is where fashion lives. Fashion does not live on the red carpet of some Amy Schumer, "oh boom boom, (lifts up dress) here is my cooter” (puts down dress) movie. It does not live on the shelves of your local Target store. And it certainly does not live on the oversized ass of Kim Kardashian! Americans are nothing but fat, lazy cunts who think that they’re the center of the universe!
Brittnay: Hey! Who the fuck did you just call fat?!
Mackenzie: You know what? You girls better watch who you’re talking to. Because Team USA is here now. And you’d better believe America’s gonna take first place this week.
Trisha: Yeah! America first!
Mackenzie and Brittnay: Whoa! No no, no! Nope.
Trisha: What? I thought I’d just shorten it. Make it a little bit more catchy. Maybe it’d make a good hashtag.
Trisha 2: Aw, looks like somebody’s already using it. Seems like it’s really popular with ghosts.
Mackenzie: No Trishas, we’re not going there, ok?
Juliette: Team USA is going down. That’s where you’re going.
Brittnay: Yeah! Going down on your mom! (beat) Oh... God. I could’ve done better than that. Fuckin’ jet lag.
Mackenzie: You know what Brittnay, it’s fine. We just got to focus on what we came here to do. Because I want to kick those girls fucking ass!
Jeannie: Well, we’re fucked.
Mackenzie: What happened?
Jeannie: I just got off the phone with the last model on my roster and she can’t make it. That’s it. We’re gonna have to fucking forfeit.
Brittnay: Look Miss Halverstad, we’re fucking fired up. The four of us can just do it ourselves.
Jeannie: No, you idiot. You have to have a complete team of eleven models. Five male models, five female models, and one captain. We can’t compete without a full team. And there’s not enough time for me to fly anyone else out from the US. So unless you guys have a bunch of attractive teenage Americans who just happen to be in Paris right now, we. Are. Fucked.