The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh (1988) s04e08 Episode Script

1
Gotta get up,
I gotta get goin' ♪
I'm gonna see
a friend of mine ♪
He's round and he's fuzzy ♪
I love him because
he's just Pooh Bear ♪
Winnie the Pooh Bear ♪
Lookin' for fun,
chasin' some honeybees ♪
Pooh Bear,
I know he's out there ♪
Rumbly, tumbly ♪
Climbin' a honey tree ♪
Fun never ends for us,
we're so adventurous ♪
At least every now
and again ♪
And when we're alone
and there's nobody home ♪
It's nice to be able
to count on a friend ♪
Like Pooh Bear,
Winnie the Pooh Bear ♪
Wherever you go ♪
Oh, won't you
take me, please? ♪
Pooh Bear,
I got to be there ♪
It's me and it's you ♪
My silly old
Winnie the Pooh ♪
Uh, Pooh and Tigger,
would you like to hear
the new poem I've written?
Well, I'd really
like to, Pigalet,
but I got to go put
my socks in order
alphabetical order.
But, Tigger, you don't
have any socks.
I know,
but I I I
We'd love to hear
your poem, Piglet.
Ahem.
"Ode to Flowers."
A poem by Piglet.
That's me.
"Oh, how I love to sit and gaze
upon the pretty flowers."
Yes, that's the way
each summer day
I like to pass the hours.
And every, every single time
I see a daffodil
Yuck.
I think this rhyming stuff
is making me feel ill.
Say, Pigalet, you know,
this isn't a very poetical
piece of poohetry.
"The rose is
such a pretty thing.
It always makes me
want to sing."
Yuck!
Let me see if I can
fix this up for you.
I love to smell
the pretty flowers
when I take a morning stroll.
But I'm so busy sniffing,
I fall into a hole.
Yaah!
Now this is poetry.
Hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo!
Now here's a splendid specimen
as lovely as you please.
It would be a whole lot nicer
if it weren't full of bees.
Oh, no!
So off you go
with all your might,
running around
at the speed of light.
You ought to stop
and take a riff,
but you just stepped
right off a cliff.
Yaah!
Oh, d-d-dear.
This isn't at all
the poem I had in mind.
And so you think
your trouble's over
and you're really
pretty pleased.
But you don't want
to slow down now
'cause you forgot
them bumbly bees.
Did I mention a brick wall?
No.
Sorry.
If only you were just a bit,
a tiny bit bigger.
But since you aren't,
you'll have to yell.
Oh, save me, save me, Tigger!
So say goodbye
to all the flowers
'cause this here poem is done.
But just remember
to thank old Tigger
for giving you all this fun.
Oh, that was a wonderful
poem, Piglet.
Very exciting.
Do you perhaps have
another one we could read?
Help!
It was awfully nice of you
to invite us over
to hear your poem, Piglet.
Yep, had nothing better to do.
Not that I ever do.
I can't quite put
my finger on it,
but there's something different
about your house, Piglet.
It must be the flowers.
I took a few precautions
to keep Tigger from
ruining my new poem.
Feel something bad
about to happen.
There.
Now I'm safe to read it.
I call my poem
"To Be Small."
"I never saw a poem, you see,
"as lovely as a piglet like me.
"There's nothing
wrong to being minute,
and let's face it,
I am very cute."
Oh, dear.
Perhaps I should have
checked the roof
before I started my
poem.
Never fear. Tigger's here!
Hoo hoo hoo hoo!
Hmm. A birdie.
Tweet, tweet, tweet.
Let me out, Tigger.
And it talks, too.
The birdie is actually Piglet.
You sure, if I toss him up
into the wild blue yonder,
he won't flap around for us?
Tigger, sit down and be quiet.
Piglet's about to read us
another of his poems.
Yep. Can't wait.
Tigger, you can stay
if you promise to behave.
"To be small or not to be small.
"That's no small matter at all.
"Many nice things
can be quite teeny.
A leaf, a bird,
even a beanie."
You can hide in a crack
or a thimble.
But suddenly you get
ker-smashed by a cymbal.
Oh, so many tiggers here.
Now that's what I call
poohetry. Hoo hoo hoo!
It's hard to be little
like a fly.
Take one wrong step,
and it's bye-bye.
Nothing, you see,
is ever that small,
unless it stands
next to something tall.
Whoops. How's that happen?
I just say the word
and visionalize,
and I'll be back
to my tiggerish size.
This poohetry
I think it's time to quit.
It does seem to have
a few bugs in it.
Help me, Pigalet!
I'm losing my lead!
I don't want to end up
as buggety-bug feed.
The teeny-weeny
Tigger runs up a tree.
And splashes
into the raging sea.
Yaah!
He tries to grab onto a log.
But it turns out
to be a giant frog.
My, I like this much better
than my last poem,
though I'm not sure Tigger does.
Splishety-splash,
he goes down the creek.
I thought we was in the ocean.
Uh-oh.
Suddenly he's grabbed
by a big bird beak.
Hey, be careful what you say.
One wrong word
could ruin my day.
High into the sky
Tigger does soar,
but then he quickly drops
onto an Eeyore.
Oof.
Hmm.
Looks like some kind
of tigger fly.
So Eeyore swats him
7 miles high.
Whoa!
Until he slams
into Rabbit.
Hmm. That doesn't
rhyme very well.
Hey, who turned out the lights?
Ah, ah, ah
choo!
Hmm. This feels
kind of déjà blue.
Hello, Tigger.
Hi, Pooh boy.
Tigger? Tigger?
Where did he go?
Could you do me a favor?
Don't let me become
today's favorite flavor.
Whatever you do,
don't take a swallow.
Oh, oh, whoa!
Tigger? Tigger?
Where did he go?
I wonder if I
Oh, no.
I turn the knob.
Look what pours out:
A little tigger from the spout.
I didn't know all the while
that being little
was such a trial.
Well, you've been
through enough for today.
It's time for you
to grow, I'd say.
He's begun to shrink.
He's smaller than a blob of ink.
I'm starting to feel
a little queer.
If this keeps up,
I'll disappear.
Oh, dear.
When I told Tigger
I wanted him to grow,
I meant grow big,
not small. Oh, no.
Whew. I learned my lesson.
That's for sure.
I'll never make fun
of poohetry no more.
I promise everyone
I'll always be good.
Say, is that a flying redwood?
Hoo hoo hoo hoo hoo!
Don't worry, Tigger.
That's okay
But you can go far, far away.
All this nothing
is so widespread.
Wonder if it was
something that I said.
Nah!
So soft, so soothing.
So call me a sentimental fool,
but I do love to hear
the birds sing the dawn chorus.
Not that I generally allow
the feathered felons
within a hundred miles
of my garden,
but the birds of the dawn chorus
shall always be an exception.
Aha!
What could possibly
be more beautiful?
Oh, my. Oh, my.
Oh, my, oh, my!
Pooh, would you care
for some tea with honey?
Yes, Piglet, but without
the tea, if you please.
Ee!
And there it was,
whatever it was, again.
Kind of sounded like a heffalump
pushing a woozle down a hill
with a spookable
tied around his nose.
Come on, you guys.
We got to find out
what's disturbing
the peace and the quiet.
Owl, cease that silly
screeching this second!
Will you please be quiet?
Be quiet? As in not sing?
Stop, you vegetable vandals!
Come back with my produce!
Owl, just look what you've done!
I'm sure it was
that off-key, out-of-tune
so-called voice of yours
which brought those confounded
crows here in the first place.
Am I to understand
that you did not like
my performance?
I want you out of my
garden this moment,
right away,
effective immediately,
if not sooner!
I can take a hint.
Poor Owl. He seems rather sad.
Not half as sad as I am.
Just look what his sorry
singing has cost me.
Oh, don't worry, bunny boy.
I'll help you turn this garden
into the crow-proofiest
garden ever.
And perhaps, Piglet,
we can help Owl.
Maybe, Owl,
if you sang just
a little more little?
I believe you should
sing like this.
Me m-m-me m-m-m-me ♪
That is all good and well
for one note,
but there are many more
needing attention.
For example
Do re me fa so la ti ♪
And how was that, Piglet?
Piglet?
Well, Owl,
it was perhaps a little loud?
Tigger, are you sure
you're sure about this?
Sure. Building
crow catching traps
is what tiggers do the best.
Just be careful you don't touch
that thingamabobbie there.
And don't step on that
doohickey over there.
And whatever you do,
don't get near
the whatever-it-is
next to the I forgot
what to call it.
Well, as long as your
crow trap traps those
crows?
Get out of my garden,
you ravenous ravens!
Hey, long ears, look out
for the whatchamadoodle!
You mean this whatchamadoodle?
Tigger, your trap
isn't trapping the crows.
It's helping them!
Hoo! Don't worry, bunny boy.
It's not done doing yet.
Yahoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Now it's done.
I believe,
by having a smackerel of this,
you can make your singing sound
as sweet as honey.
Honey, you see,
ought to make your
singing much smoother
and more tasteful.
I say, Pooh Bear,
I do believe I now have a voice
to bring down the house.
The dawn chorus awaits.
Me me me me, ooh ♪
Oh, dear.
I don't really think
Owl's singing has gotten
too very much better.
Do you, Pooh?
Yes, Piglet, I don't.
I think this may
require some thinking.
These crows are smart.
What we're gonna need
is a super-stupendious trap.
Now for the secret ingrediament.
And what exactly is
the secret ingredament
ingredient?
Keep it under your hat,
long ears,
because the secret is
swill.
And what is swill?
It's what you get
when you add a little of this
and probably a lot more of that.
This is absopolilutely
guaranteed to work.
Hmm. Well, just to be
safe, Tigger,
I want you to watch
my garden tonight.
Hoo hoo! Guardin' gardens
is what tiggers do the best.
I think I've been
think-thinking all night
and I haven't
thought a single thought.
Oof!
Oh, bother.
Perhaps if I sat
in my favorite honey tree,
a thought would come to me.
I do wonder who could
teach a bird like Owl
to sing like a bird.
Oof!
Who's there?
State your name, rank,
and favorite brand of cereal.
I must have been
thinking in my sleep
because I thought
I heard singing.
Uh-oh!
Was it you birds who were
singing like birds?
Do you suppose you could
teach Owl to sing
as you've just sung
the song you sang?
Aw!
He wants to join the chorus
in Rabbit's garden.
Uh, Owl, perhaps
you should rehearse
just the least bit more
before you join the chorus.
Owl, I've found these teachers
to help you with your singing.
Dear Pooh, my singing
is beyond help
uh, by which I mean to say I
simply could be no better than I am.
However, I would be glad to have
your friends join me in the chorus.
Uh, the more the merrier,
I always say. Hoo hoo.
So long as you don't
step on my solo.
Stop in the name of
the long arm of the law!
Who's going there?
It is I: Owl,
star of the dawn chorus,
and associates.
Well, then come on in.
The more the merrier,
I always say. Hoo hoo!
Just don't go near the swill.
And now to take
my place in the chorus.
Uh, Piglet, if you please.
Ah, the dawn chorus.
So soft, so soothing, so
Not that infernal racket again.
What was that? Crows?
Do I hear crows?
Owl! Stop that ridiculous
racket right now!
But, Rabbit, Owl's singing
did scare the crows away.
And it doesn't look as if
they'll be coming back.
Oh, my. You're right.
In fact, it seems Owl's singing
is the only thing that
will keep the crows away.
Hmm. Wonder what went
wrong with my trap.
Must have been
a defective doohickey.
If you'll excuse me,
I must be off.
Now, Owl, let's not be hasty.
You know you're welcome
to sing in my garden
right here as often
as you'd like.
I do appreciate
the offer, Rabbit,
but it has occurred to me
that my voice talents
are far too fine
for the dawn chorus.
I am now ready
for the evening chorus.
Maybe I didn't use enough swill?
Nah! Couldn't be that.
Hoo hoo!
It's got to be
this thingamabobbie.
Ooh!
Tigger, what is this?
This, bunny boy, is swill.
Do re mi fa so la ti ♪
It makes me very happy
to see Owl so very happy.
Ha ha. Yes,
things have turned out
quite nicely indeed.
All right, everyone,
the evening chorus
is about to begin.