Joan: Go Eagles, go eagles!/Go, go, go Eagles!/ We live to cheer/we're so sincere/unless you get in trouble/then we're out of here/It's such a royal pain when a friend gets arrested/How could I have known? How could I have guessed it?/It's not like she's my sister/whoops, is that my beeper?/Even if she were/am I my sister's keeper?/Sorry, gotta go/ Try-outs are today/Tell we'll think of her every time we say/ Go Eagles! Go Eagles!/ Go, go, go Eagles!/My name is Joan/this cheer is my own/so kiss my feathers/'cause this bird has flown.
[angrily mouths "thank you"]
Grace: Uh, I think I got better things to do than watch a bunch of cheerleaders flash their panties at brain-dead jocks.
Joan: Yeah, and, um, me, too. I have a big party I have to go to, so...
Adam: I would go if Jane was going, but...
Joan: Well I can't do any stunts. No, no, and how about the jumps? So, so. So why am I here, well it's really odd, but I'm here to cheer on a mission from God. So put me in the game or leave me on the bench, so you can go to heaven and I'll get out of French.
Adam: Oh, Jane, glad I caught you here. This is for good luck.
[Adam gives her a piece of art that looks like a cheerleader... Well, sort of]
Joan: Adam... Well, thank you, but I already tried out.
Adam: I missed it? No way, man.
Joan: Whoa, whoa, whoa. It's okay... Sorry, But thanks for the...
Adam: It's a cheerleader. You know, it's got the little hairy things.
Joan: Pompoms? Cool.
Adam: I can't believe I missed it, though. How'd it go?
Joan: Uh... well, ha ha. I can definitely say I'm not going to be a cheerleader.
Adam: Why not? They didn't like you?
Joan: Wow... I always thought you'd hate me if I was a cheerleader.
Adam: No way. Why?
Joan: 'Cause we're sub-defectives, and that would be like deserting the army or something.
Adam: Oh. No, I don't care if you're a cheerleader or sub-defective or whatever. I just like hanging out with you 'cause you're Jane.
Homeless Man God: Be not afraid, Joan.
Joan: Be not afraid? What's with that?
Homeless Man God: Sometimes I like to sound old-timey.