You might ask if I ever saw Tracy Flick again. Well, I did, just once. I was down in...

Jim McAllister: [narrating] You might ask if I ever saw Tracy Flick again. Well, I did, just once. I was down in Washington for a museum educators conference, and I stayed an extra day to do some sightseeing. After an inspiring morning on the Mall, I was on my way to the Holocaust Museum, when... [across the street he spots Tracy chatting with a congressman, who she seems to be working for. As she gets into a stretch limousine with him, it freeze-frames on her with a smug expression on her face] Jim McAllister: I'll never know if she saw me. Probably not. But in that moment, all the bad memories, all the things I'd ever wanted to say to her, it all came flooding back. My first impulse was to run over there, pound on her window and demand that she admit she tore down those posters, and lied and cheated her way into winning that election. But instead, I just stood there. And I suddenly realised I wasn't angry at her anymore, I just felt sorry for her. I mean, when I think about my new life and all the exciting things I'm doing, and then I think about what her life must be like... Probably still getting up at 5 in the morning to pursue her pathetic little dreams. It just makes me sad. I mean, where is she really trying to get to anyway? And what is she doing in that limo? Who the fuck does she think she is? [he throws his drink at the limo, it splatters on the rear window. The limo screeches to a halt and a man gets out and shouts at him as he runs away]