Hey Arnold! (1996) s02e09 Episode Script

Freeze Frame/Phoebe Cheats

MAN: Here we go.
HELGA: Arnold.
Hey, Arnold!
Hey, Arnold!
Move it, football head!
ALL: Hey, Arnold!
put the yellow one
into the video plug.
the yellow one in.
Try the red one.
Thought you said the yellow.
ARNOLD: The red one.
GERALD: Now this better work.
Yellow one in, come on,
give me somethin'.
Flip the switch.
GERALD: Oh, there it is!
You know, Gerald,
maybe someday
we'll make movies together.
Hey, Arnold,
we're doin' it now.
Wait a minute.
What's that guy doing?
What guy?
That guy.
You can hardly see him.
Hold on a sec.
I can look at the tape
on my computer.
What's that hat he's wearin'?
I think it's called
a pork pie hat.
Hmm. So what's Porkpie
doin' at the tree?
I don't know
what's going on here,
but it looks suspicious.
Yeah, it's like
an old-fashioned
mystery movie thriller.
I have the perfect title.
The Mystery of the Porkpie
and the Envelope in the Tree.
Grab your camera, Gerald.
Let's go check this out.
At this moment, we're hot on
the trail of a mysterious man.
Known only as Porkpie,
who has stashed
an unmarked envelope
in this very tree.
Open it, Arnold.
It's a note.
"Porpoises at 2:00."
All right. Let's think.
Where are the porpoises?
It's obvious.
At the aquarium.
They're meeting
by the porpoise tank.
But that's
all the way downtown.
Look, we gotta hurry.
They're not meeting
at the aquarium.
They're not?
No. Don't you remember
the big news about
the aquarium's twin porpoises?
What'd they do,
croak or somethin'?
They're on loan
to Underwaterworld.
And there's only
one other place in the city
that has porpoises.
Who's idea was it
to put a merry-go-round
next to the slaughterhouse?
ARNOLD: That guy
with the slick hair
must be meeting Porkpie.
Well, Porkpie and Slick
are about to become
the stars of our movie.
So you like the plan?
Oh, yeah, I like it a lot.
You don't think
he's on to us?
No way.
He has no idea
what we're gonna do to him.
Did you get the gum?
Did you hear that?
They're trying to get a gun.
I thought he said gum.
No, he said gun. I heard him.
And I got plenty of rope
and a knife too.
Good, good, this is gonna be
the shock of his life.
I love those porpoises.
They're just so cute.
MAN: Yeah, they are cute.
I never rode 'em before.
Well, that's that.
Two suspicious characters
in a taxi cab
disappear into
the teeming city.
Car 16.
I have an idea, come on.
I'm sorry, guys.
I can't tell you
where our different cabs
have been.
It's classified information.
But this is really important.
Sorry, kiddo. No can do.
Listen, Sabrina,
we're after some
bad, bad men.
And it's a dangerous game.
An innocent man can be hurt
unless you help us.
Now, uh, what do you
say to that?
Uh-uh. Uh, Louise,
can I get the bathroom key?
I've got an idea.
Arnold! What are you doing?
That's a dispatcher's
radio mic.
this is Sabrina.
You picked up some
sneaky looking guys
at the merry-go-round.
Uh, where did you take them?
MAN: (ON RADIO) Hey, Sabrina,
your voice sounds different.
Uh, exotic or somethin'.
Hurry up.
She's coming back.
Uh, anyway, I took
that pork pie hat guy
to 27 Grand Street,
that's two-seven Grand.
He had a friend
with him, they were
whisperin' and stuff.
But I don't want to have
nothin' to do with it, okay?
So, you wanna
split a chilli dog later?
This rope is strong enough to,
well, you know
Hang him high. (CHUCKLES)
I want to show you
somethin' else.
It's right here
in the parking lot.
You're still
driving this heap?
Drivin' it? I live in it.
Hold on a sec,
I gotta check my messages.
Man, this guy Jed's
irking me real bad.
He keeps calling,
asking what time
we're getting Marty tonight.
7:00, 7:00.
7:00 tonight.
What are those?
I think they're gas canisters.
Why would Porkpie need those?
Boy, the canisters
are really gonna help us
blow them up.
And you know
how much Marty hates
when things blow up.
Marty sure has it
coming to him after all
he's done to us. (CHUCKLES)
I do not trust these guys.
And who's this Marty?
I thought these masks
would be a nice touch.
Man, oh, man,
these'll do Marty in.
Do Marty in?
You know what
that means, don't you?
They're gonna 86 him.
What does that mean?
You know,
plant him, rub him out,
take him off the menu.
Calm down, Arnold.
Let's not jump to conclusions.
Oh, man, there's
no doubt about it.
Tonight we're gonna
finish Marty off.
All right, now we can
jump to conclusions.
Hey, I've seen
you two kids before.
You're followin' us.
Maybe they know Marty.
You two know Marty?
Uh, no, we don't know
anyone named Marty.
Hey, what's with
the video camera?
It's, uh, it's
a project for school.
Project for school?
What do you think,
we're chumps?
I bet they're
working for Marty.
They'll blow our whole plan.
Okay, clown time is over,
fork over the camera,
Hardy Boys.
That's it, we're going
straight to the police.
I don't think
they took us very seriously.
What makes you say that?
Gerald, we're gonna
have to do this on our own.
But how are we
gonna find Marty?
Hey, Arnold.
Hey, Gerald.
Hi, Mr. Green,
you're sure dressed up.
Yeah, lookin' sporty Mr. G.
Thanks, boys.
Well, I gotta go chop up
some rump roast.
That's okay,
we gotta go anyway.
See you later, Mr. Green.
Arnold, we've looked at
the same tape over and over.
Face it, man.
We're fresh out of clues.
We've got to find out
where they're
gonna get Marty.
(SIGHS) Why don't you just
call up Porkpie and ask him?
Gerald, that's it.
We just call Porkpie
and ask him.
One problem, Sherlock.
We don't have Porkpie's
phone number.
So, uh, now we have to
Match the tones,
and I can
do it on the computer.
Man, that is so cool.
Okay, now we have
Porkpie's number.
Call him.
He's heard my voice,
you've got to do it.
(GRUFF VOICE) Hi, Porkpie?
It's, uh, it's Jed.
No, no, it's really Jed.
My voice? Oh.
I get bad allergies.
(CLEARS THROAT) But anyway,
I forgot where, uh,
you were gonna
get Marty tonight.
I know you told me
a million times.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
buddy, okay?
Uh-uh, uh-uh,
the warehouse
at Front Street
and Market at 7:00?
Got it.
Front Street and Market.
That's right near
the merry-go-round
where this started.
We have 15 minutes,
let's do it.
Hope we didn't miss Marty.
I hope I have enough tape
to get all this.
Gerald, someone's life
is on the line, don't worry
about the camera.
Hey, what's
Mr. Green doing here?
Mr. Green.
What a coincidence.
Arnold and Gerald.
What are you doing here?
Something bad is gonna
happen in this building
to a man named Marty.
My name's Marty.
Are you "The Marty"?
I'm the only Marty I know.
Mr. Green, you cannot
go into that building.
These two men
have been saying,
"We're gonna get Marty.
"We're gonna do him in."
It sounds real bad.
These are real bad guys.
What do these
bad guys look like?
One always wears
a pork pie hat.
And the other one
lives in his car.
Dan and Sherm.
They've been trying to
get me for years.
Okay, let's get out of here,
it's almost 7:00.
No, Arnold. These guys
are out to get me?
I'm not gonna
run away. No, sir.
It's time I face the music.
Mr. Green!
ALL: Surprise!
Happy birthday, Marty!
Oh, you got me, guys.
You got me.
Oh, what a great twist!
Who knew there were
so many butchers in the city?
I thought they were
really gonna get you.
These guys? (CHUCKLES)
They're butchers.
They wouldn't hurt a fly.
Maybe a cow, but not a fly.
Happy birthday, Mr. Green.
We have a great mystery movie.
Yeah, and it all turned out
to be harmless fun.
Free gum.
Get your free gum
right here.
Well, this surprise party
worked out great.
Yeah, now that
we've got Marty's
guard down
we can really get him
in three weeks
at the convention.
I'm reading you
loud and clear.
That's when Marty
really gets it.
Arnold, did you hear that?
I sure did.
Maybe we better investigate.
Let's go.
MR. SIMMONS: This report
on President Lincoln
deserves a very special place
on the bulletin board.
Let me guess,
it's another monument
of perfection by
Phoebe Heyerdahl.
MR. SIMMONS: The author is
our very own Sheena.
Oh, my.
Sheena, stand up
and take a bow.
Can it be you're
actually slipping, Phoebe?
I find it deeply gratifying
when my contemporaries
achieve success.
Don't give me that.
You always have to be
the best at everything.
Now, I'm very happy
to announce the citizens
of the month.
Phoebe, Phoebe and Phoebe?
Gerald, Nadine and Harold.
Now, I'm very excited
about our next project.
The poetry contest.
The author of the best poem
will take home
this life-like trophy
of Emily Dickinson.
I must win
this contest, Helga.
(SCOFFS) You better
spill your guts on the page
if you want Simmons
to give you the prize.
"The sun sets in the west"
No, that won't do.
"The Earth"
Well, logically, the Earth
spins out in space.
Oh, of course.
I'll develop
this theme in depth.
"The clouds gather water
to rain all over the place."
No, that isn't it either.
HELGA: I stink. I'm no good.
I don't have anymore poems
inside of me.
I'm desperately
looking for something,
but there's nothing.
Cowlicks, like fields
of yellow corn.
All the days of my week,
I write the name
I dare not speak.
The boy with
the cornflower hair,
my beloved, my despair.
That's a keeper.
"To rain on the place."
"To rain over the place."
That's terrible.
Maybe if I start
with this poem as a guide,
I can write something good.
"I hear your name
like a bell,
"ringing, ringing,
in my heart."
(SIGHS) I can't
possibly write
a poem this good.
But I have to win.
I have to be the best.
"I hear your name,
"like a bell"
"I hear your name,
"like a bell, ringing,
ringing in my heart."
Oh. First place
in the poetry contest
goes to Ms. Phoebe Heyerdahl.
Thank you, Phoebe,
for bringing that
moment of beauty
into all of our lives.
You thunk up
all them purdy words
yourself, Phoebe?
That's hard to believe.
The second place winner
is a poet who chooses
to remain anonymous.
"All the days of my week,
"I write the name
I dare not speak.
"The boy with
the cornflower"
Gosh, Helga,
you're slidin' down
your chair like it was
your poem or somethin'.
Be quiet, you idiot.
Well, you are.
And now a toast.
Phoebe, your mother and I
are both so proud
of your accomplishment.
Bottoms up!
Mother, Father,
if you'll excuse me,
I'd like to go to bed now.
I'm tired from
all the excitement.
Phoebe dearest, your trophy.
It deserves
a place of honor
in your room.
Thank you, Father.
Good night.
It's not as though
I cheat all the time.
And I know more about poetry
than anyone else in class.
That's almost like
being the best poet.
Stop looking at me.
It's rude to stare.
(WHISPERING) Good night,
little poetess.
You're a stupid trophy really.
I don't know why
I even wanted you
in the first place.
That poem was
rotting away.
I rescued it!
So, I ended up writing
quite a few poems
for the contest.
Very bad poems actually.
Well, that's part of
the creative process.
No, that's not it.
You see, I just wanted
so much to win
and the only way
I could win for sure was to
Simmons, I need help
with the open house
Thursday night.
I've gotta find a way to
reach out to the young people
in front of their parents.
Well, you could start with
a student from each class
doing a reading.
Phoebe here is
our Poet Laureate.
She wrote a wonderful poem.
Is that true, young lady?
Did you really write
a wonderful poem?
Oh, sir, I can't write.
Nonsense. We're proud
of our multicultural students
here at P.S. 118.
Where do you
come from, Phoebe?
Kentucky, sir.
Well, Phoebe, let's make
Kentake proud on Thursday
with a prize-winning poem.
Phoebe, you're moving like
an angry wind tonight.
No! No, I contest that.
I'm certain I made contact.
And I am certain you did not.
Ah, then I must be mistaken.
I know full well
how honest you are,
little treasure.
I do not doubt you
for a moment.
Why is everyone picking on me?
Phoebe, are you
all right, sugar?
I'm fine, thank you, Mother.
You seem a little
preoccupied, honey.
Is something bothering you?
No, Mother.
Everything's fine, really.
Don't worry about me.
What do you want from me?
Well, if it isn't
little miss smartypants.
You're an inanimate object,
you can't talk.
And you can't write poetry.
I can't hear you.
Cheater! Cheater!
(SOFTLY) Cheater.
It's over, Emily.
I'll never have to
hear your nagging,
scowling voice again.
Oh, Phoebe, you're so naive.
KID: Wee!
Hey, look at that.
It's part of Phoebe's trophy.
She's probably looking
for it right now.
Maybe we better
bring it back to her.
A popsicle, please.
How did you get here?
So, you thought
you could get rid of me
just like that?
You didn't do the hard work
you're capable of.
You stole a poem
and called yourself a poet.
You should've searched
deep inside yourself
like all real poets do.
Please, go away,
I know I didn't earn you.
And now it makes me sick
when I look at you.
I hate you,
you scary little statue.
what's going on in there?
Nothing, Mother.
Now, I'm lying to Mother again
because of you.
Lying and cheating.
What am I saying?
I've done this to myself.
But no more.
Where are you taking me?
Be quiet.
Will I need a sweater?
PHOEBE: It wasn't my poem.
I copied it
right out of a book.
I just wanted so much to win.
I see.
Do you understand
the seriousness of
what you did, Phoebe?
Yes, sir. It was terrible.
Why was the contest
so important to you
that you decided to cheat?
I'm used to
being the best, sir.
That's who I am.
Don't you think
there's a lot more
to Phoebe Heyerdahl
than always being the best
and winning awards?
I I really don't know, sir.
Well, I'm sure of it.
But, needing to be
the best at everything,
and how it makes you feel
when you don't win, I
I want you to write
a poem about that.
In the meantime,
we still need a reading
for the open house.
And remember,
the lost and found
will not be responsible
for anymore jackets,
coats, or book bags
What a windbag.
Another minute of this
and I'll be asleep
in my chair.
Without further ado,
I introduce
Ms. Phoebe Heyerdahl
with a poetry reading
by Anonymous.
This was the best poem
in our class.
"All the days of my week,
I write the name
I dare not speak.
"The boy with
the cornflower hair,
"my beloved, and my despair."
Poor Helga.
She's been shot
through the heart
by a purdy poem.
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