Death of A Cheerleader (1994 TV Movie)

Tori Spelling: Stacy Lockwood

Quotes 

• Stacy Lockwood : Hey, Monica, forget your broom?

  Monica : I don't need a broom to fly away from you, you bitch.

• Angela Delvecchio : Why are you so mean?

  Stacy Lockwood : [coldly]  Come on, put a lid on it. Let's go.

  Angela Delvecchio : I don't understand - I just wanna be your friend!

  Stacy Lockwood : [sarcastically]  Sure, and I wanna fly to the moon.

  Angela Delvecchio : I admire you, Stacy. I've always admired you. You're so pretty and funny and confident.

  Stacy Lockwood : You're pathetic!

  Angela Delvecchio : All I want is to be like you.

  Stacy Lockwood : That's it, I'm out of here.

  Angela Delvecchio : Wait! Wait, no!

  Stacy Lockwood : You know what, you are even weirder than I thought!

  [exits the car] 

  Stacy Lockwood : Why don't you give Monica a call. Maybe SHE can be your date.

  Angela Delvecchio : [yells]  No, Stacy, that's not what I meant!

• Stacy Lockwood : [looks at a knife and vegetable next to her]  What's this, hors d'ouvres?

  Angela Delvecchio : Oh, my sister. She sometimes fixes lunch in the car.

  Stacy Lockwood : Mmm, now that's real class, Angie. So, who did you say was gonna be at this party?

  Angela Delvecchio : Oh, the older crowd.

• Stacy Lockwood : Okay, once upon a time, there was a very strange little girl named Monica. Her face was very, very white and her clothes were very, very black. Now Monica was so weird that none of the other little girls would play with her, so she made her diary her constant companion. And here's what she had to say to it...

• Stacy Lockwood : [caught reading Monica's diary aloud to her friends]  Hi, Monica. We're just feeling out the texture of your prose.

• Stacy Lockwood : [while reading Monica's diary]  Now I'm getting to the meat of this story.

  Angela Delvecchio : [worried]  Stacy, come on, that stuff is private.

  Stacy Lockwood : [annoyed]  Well, excuse me. What are you anyhow, Monica's guardian angel?

• Stacy Lockwood : [reading her poem]  Face like a ghost, hair black as sin/the witch of Santa Mira scratches her chin/she cackles, she gloats, she summons her broom/and flies like a banshee right out of the room.

  Monica : [furiously]  I'm gonna KILL you, Stacy Lockwood!

  Teacher : Monica!

  [to Stacy] 

  Teacher : Stacy, I think you better apologize.

  Stacy Lockwood : I'm sorry, Mrs. Chadfield. It was just a poem. It wasn't about her.

• Angela Delvecchio : [approaches Stacy, voice breaking in anguish]  I would've driven you home.

  Stacy Lockwood : You are so weird! Just go away! GO AWAY!

  [Angela attacks Stacy and stabs her leaving her for dead]