This analysis came strait from the source, got it from the source. Jeff Spicoli is worn out, but he's not done yet, the Vice documentary squad is on the scene. The Neo-Journalists. With Neo-Wave music and hairsprayed hair. Thought he was taller, I was surprised when he stood.
He smelled of body odor and long fingernails, he looked like an actor, he acted like he was acting. He frowned. So much promise way back, free spirit, class cutter, a teacher's nightmare. Now this, pouting and somber, and sober. Mr. Hand got the last laugh, the 'told you so' laugh.
But it's a hollow laughter, a sad laughter, it's heavy. This ain't no disco, this ain't no party, this ain't no fooling around. He kept talking, I was having trouble following his logic. Then he looks at me dead in the the eyes, calm like, and said, “What Jefferson was saying was, Hey! You know, we left this England place ’cause it was bogus; so if we don’t get some cool rules ourselves—pronto—we’ll just be bogus, too! Get it?" And I did get it, we needed some cool rules quick, some Neo-Cool Rules.