One of my ALL TIME FAVORIES...A Sure Thing.
Professor: [reading Gib's Paper] 'It could be tonight,' he though as he stood in the corner, pretending to have a good time. He would meet her tonight. All his young life, he had dreamed of a girl like this. 5'6, silky hair, trim, nubile body. Nubile, by the way, is spelled with a "u".
Professor: Trim, nubile body that really knew how to move. And soft, deeply tanned skin. Now as for personality traits, she needed only one. She had to love sex and all the time. To arrive at this moment, he had traveled vast distances enduring many hardships. Abject poverty, starvation, show tunes, you name it. From across the room, he saw her. She was perfect. He knew almost nothing about her and she didn't know much more about him. It was exactly how it was supposed to be. He brought her to his room. The lights were soft, the moment was right. Then she leaned over and whispered in his ear, 'Do you love me?' Thoughts raced through his mind. Did she really want him? What had he done to deserve this bounty? Does God exist? Who invented liquid soap and why? 'Do you love me?' Staring into her eyes he knew that she really needed to hear it but for the first time in his life, he knew these were no longer just words and if he said it, it would be a lie. 'Do you love me?' she whispered. 'Do you love me?' It would not be tonight. The answer was no.
The way the professor reads it is perfect and there are so many lines but you have to HEAR them and not read them because its mostly the way John Cusack (who i used to want to marry) SAYS them and the look on her face - just go and RENT IT. please.
Lady Driving: What are you gonna name it?
Lady Driving: The baby.
Allison: [realizing she's faking being pregnant] Oh, the baby. Well, if it's a girl, Cynthia, and if it's a boy, Elliot.
Lady Driving: Those are lovely names.
Gib: Elliot? You're gonna name the kid Elliot? No, you can't name the kid Elliot. Elliot is a fat kid with glasses who eats paste. You're not gonna name the kid Elliot. You gotta give him a real name. Give him a name. Like Nick.
Gib: Yeah, Nick. Nick's a real name. Nick's your buddy. Nick's the kind of guy you can trust, the kind of guy you can drink a beer with, the kind of guy who doesn't mind if you puke in his car, Nick!
[Alison looks disgusted]
Gib: [to Lady in Car] Oh, vomit. I'm sorry. Vomit.