Hey Arnold! (1996) s05e23 Episode Script

Phoebe's Little Problem/Grandpa's Packard

MAN: Here we go.
HELGA: Arnold.
Hey, Arnold!
Hey, Arnold!
Move it, football head!
ALL: Hey, Arnold!
RHONDA: Prune cookies?
Are you kidding?
My grandma puts them
in everything she bakes.
Willikers, Arnold, I reckon,
prunes is just
about the nastiest
cookie flavor around.
Actually, prunes are enjoyed
the world over by people
of all ages,
and despite their
rather unpleasant appearance,
they're really quite tasty.
Not to mention
an excellent source of iron,
and the wonderful implement
of dietary regulation.
Here, Phoebe,
why don't you just take them?
Don't mind if I do.
The iron will give me energy
when I accept my award
this afternoon. Mm, delicious.
I guess I was really hungry.
Oh, hush.
Boys and girls.
Your attention, please,
boys and girls.
Now, students,
please join me
in congratulating
the recipient
of this month's excellence
in attendance award,
for the 36th month in a row,
I give you P. S. 118's own,
Phoebe Heyerdahl.
Thank you, Principal Wartz.
And, thanks to all of you.
After all, it isn't just
my passion for knowledge
and my superior dedication
that keeps me dutifully
coming back to P.S. 118
each and every day,
it's also the kind,
nurturing environment
feeded by my wonderful friends
and peers.
Phoebe just farted!
Oh, man,
she cut the cheese!
Into a microphone,
of all things.
I'm gonna pee my pants!
But But, I didn't do it.
It wasn't me, I swear.
It was It was my shoe.
Her shoe?
That's a good one!
Phoebe, wait!
Forget it Arnold,
I'm going home.
What just happened,
it's no big deal.
I'm sure it happens
all the time.
In fact, I bet there's
not one single person we know
that doesn't have
an embarrassing fart story.
Well, have you ever done it
in public, Arnold?
You know, passed gas?
Not exactly.
I mean, not into a microphone.
Then, how can you
possibly understand
the utter humiliation
of what I've just experienced?
Look, Phoebe,
I know things may seem
really bad right now,
but trust me, by tomorrow,
everyone would've forgotten
all about what just happened.
I'm positive.
Maybe you're right, Arnold.
Perhaps, by tomorrow,
everyone will have forgotten
about my little indiscretion.
(SIGHING) So far, so good.
Look, everyone,
it's the farter!
You gonna let
another one rip for us today,
little miss farty pants?
I'll take the veggie puff,
a slice of sourdough bread,
and a portion
of Brussels sprouts, please.
Are you sure
that's a good idea, Phoebe?
Pardon me?
You know, because of
your little problem.
Brussels sprouts
are quite gassy.
The lunch lady is right.
You don't wanna be fluffering
in front of everyone
all over again.
Or dropping any more
of those stink bombs.
Now, who can come up to our
beautiful and special chart
of the human digestive tract,
and tell me which organ
is the small intestine,
and which is the colon?
Uh, how about you Rhonda?
Gosh, Mr. Simmons,
maybe you ought to ask
Phoebe instead.
You know, since she's
"the digestion expert."
Now, class, I know
you all may think
what happened
to Phoebe yesterday
is amusing,
but I assure you it is not.
The expulsion of gas is just
a perfectly natural part
of our body's
very special digestion cycle.
It's nothing to poke fun at,
and nothing to be ashamed of.
Now, Rhonda, please come up
to the front of the room,
and point out
the correct organs
on the fart.
I mean, chart. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, I mean chart.
And then,
during our science lesson,
instead of saying chart,
Mr. Simmons
inadvertently said,
Well, you know
And so, consequently,
I decided that I'm never going
back to school, ever again.
Perhaps, you ought to take
a little time
before you make up your mind
for certain.
Why don't you just stay home
for the rest of the week?
By then, you'll have
a better perspective
on the situation.
All right, but I assure you
I'm quite emphatic
about my decision.
Arnold, what are you
doing here?
Well, I was thinking about
what a rough day you had,
and I wanted to stop by
and make sure
everything is okay.
Why, I'm just fine.
Really? That's good to hear.
Yup, ever since I decided
that I'm never going back
to P. S. 118,
I've been doing just great.
Never going back to P. S. 118?
Phoebe, don't you think
you're overreacting?
No, Arnold, I think
I'm being perfectly rational,
considering the circumstances.
Come on, Phoebe,
you know you can't
run away from this
This farting thing.
I'm sorry, Arnold,
but I've made up my mind.
As long as the other students
continue to regard me
as a gas passer,
I'm afraid I have no choice
but to turn the other cheek.
No pun intended.
And she's so embarrassed
and upset that she's never
coming back to P. S. 118.
Thank you, Arnold,
for bringing
this very serious issue
to our attention.
Now, people, one of our
own classmates is in trouble,
and it's up to us to help her
through her crisis.
I think, we should all
go over to Phoebe's
after school and tell her
that she has nothing
to be embarrassed about.
I think, we should tell her
that we love and care for her,
and if she comes
back to school,
we'll all forget
about her little incident,
and never talk about it again.
What do you say?
Okay, if we pull this off
then tomorrow is movie day.
Now, okay, remember class,
we're all here
to make Phoebe feel better
about her little
Uh, incident.
And to remind her
that we love her,
we care about her well-being,
and above all,
that she is special to us.
Now, who wants to go first?
How about you, Rhonda?
Now, this whole thing
is just silly.
Trust me, eventually,
this nightmare
is going to end.
It is?
Of course, it is.
And, before you know it,
everyone is going
to stop making fun
of you to your face.
And instead,
they'll only make fun of you
behind your back.
I heard you're a mite upset,
and I just wanted to try
and cheer you up.
I appreciate the attempts,
Stinky, but I'm afraid
you're wasting your time.
Well, you might be right,
but anyways,
I wrote you a poem
to express the way
I feel about you.
If our dear friend, Phoebe,
went away,
we wouldn't know
just what to say.
If I could wish upon a star,
I'd wish you'd stay here,
where you are.
If you go, then we'll be blue.
All of us kids,
and Mr. Simmons, too.
It seems a shame
that we be parted,
just on account of you farted.
MR. SIMMONS: Phoebe, I know
what you've experienced
seems like
an insurmountable obstacle
to you now, but I promise you,
you will overcome it.
PHOEBE: How do you know?
Well, for one thing I've
already forgotten about it.
In fact, when I look at you
the only thing I can see
is a bright, caring, sensitive
and very talented young lady
with the world in her feet.
Oh, you're just saying that
to make me feel better.
No, I'm not, Phoebe,
I really mean it.
You're welcome.
Now, what do you say,
we join the class
and the rest of the school,
and forgetting
about what happened,
and put this little episode
behind us forever?
Let's move on,
and make a brand-new fart!
Mr. Simmons!
Oh, I meant start. Phoebe!
Look, Phoebe, you've gotta
snap out of this.
I mean, criminy, it's not
like it's the first time
you ever farted.
Heck, when you sleep over
you do it all the time.
You rip them all night long,
they stink to high heaven.
It's all I can do
to keep from passing out.
Just, get out.
Well, it's all up to you now,
football head.
Phoebe, do you feel
any better?
Actually, Arnold,
I feel worse.
I know now, that no one is
ever gonna forget what I did.
From now on,
when people look at me,
the only thing they'll see
is a girl who flatulated.
That's not true.
Get real, Arnold!
Nine years of living
have been reduced to one
To one solitary fart.
Come on, Phoebe,
you know there's
more to you than that.
Well, of course,
there is, Arnold.
I am smart and funny.
I'm neat and clean
and organized.
I have a perfect
attendance record,
and I'm very good at checkers.
Well, then you have to do
something to make
people remember
all those things.
You have a choice to make.
You can run away
from your problems,
sit in your room
and hide from the world.
Or, you can go back to school
and stand up for yourself.
I can't do that, Arnold,
I can't face them.
If you can't face the class,
how are you ever gonna
face yourself?
Students, may I have
your attention, please?
Oh, I hope
this doesn't take long,
I gotta see a man about a dog.
We now continue
with our monthly assembly,
which was
unfortunately interrupted
by recent unforeseen events.
You do? All right.
Students, Miss Heyerdahl
has something to say.
What do you bet
she does it again?
STINKY: She might blow.
Until three days ago,
I was Phoebe Heyerdahl,
fourth grader,
straight A student,
and a good friend
to a lot of you.
But then, something happened.
I accidentally
Well, uh,
I accidentally passed
Heck, I'm just gonna say it!
I farted! Yes, that's right!
I let one rip.
I honked the big jobber,
blew the tuba,
popped the whopper.
You all thought
it was pretty funny.
I guess, if I were
in your shoes,
I'd think
it was kinda funny too.
But, ever since then,
I've gone from being
Phoebe Heyerdahl
to just
"that girl who farted,"
and I don't think it's fair.
Because, I'm more than that.
If you ask me,
I don't have anything
to be ashamed of.
I think you're the ones
who should be ashamed.
Well, I for one,
applaud Miss Heyerdahl
for having the courage
to stand up for herself.
And, I think you should, too.
What do u say gang?
I got something to say.
Phoebe is a farter.
Phoebe is a farter.
Look, Harold wet his pants!
STINKY: Harold wet his pants!
HAROLD: Mommy! Mommy!
He is never gonna hear
the end of it.
You're listening to M Jazz.
And keep it there,
we've got more smiles
from miles coming up.
You sure love jazz,
huh, Grandpa?
You always keep the radio
tuned to this station.
That's cause its stuck there.
It will only play
this station.
You excited
about the car show?
Excited? Oh, I'm bursting
with automotive fervor.
This is the year
I'll win the prize
with the best car at the show.
Oh, my beloved Packard.
It's my one true love.
But isn't Grandma
your one true love?
What are you, crazy?
The Packard is
my one true love.
Pookie is just my wife.
Hm, what you got there?
A word puzzle?
Is that a "P"?
No. See?
"I love you, dear."
That's nice.
What does the word puzzle say?
You crazy, blind as a bat,
old buzzard!
Don't think I didn't see ya!
Don't forget to admire
all of the Packards parked
in the center
of the hall, folks.
One of these beauties
will win the best
in show trophy.
What exquisite looking cars.
And what warm,
friendly owners.
Oh, look at this
gorgeous specimen!
Grandpa, that's your car.
It is? Oh, boy!
I think, we've got a shot
at winning, short man.
Oh, that's a beaut.
Would be a shame if something
should happen to it.
Yeah, great set
of wheels, though.
Oh, I see you have
the original mother-of-pearl
pistol grip brake handle.
Darn tootin', I do,
and don't touch it.
There's not a Packard here
that stands a chance
against it.
If it isn't my arch nemesis,
Rex Smythe-Higgins.
Once again, we face off,
Packard to Packard, eh?
You still driving that heap?
Heap? Need I remind you
that my roadster
won the best of show trophy
the last five years running.
Why not? You paid off
the judges every year!
And now, ladies and gentlemen,
the benevolent mayorhood
of Packard Owners Organization
is ready to award the trophy
for best of show.
And the trophy goes to
Steely Phil!
Woo-hoo! It's me!
All right, Grandpa!
WOMAN: Wonderful!
I simply love your car,
it's so well-preserved.
It's not the only thing
that's well-preserved
around here, lady.
How do you do?
My name is Ivana Divancevic.
Mine is Phil, Steely Phil.
And this is my grandson,
Would it be too much trouble
if I took your picture,
you know,
in front of your Packard?
It would be my pleasure.
IVANA: Perfect.
Too classy.
Oh, say, why don't you
jot down your address on this,
and I'll send you copies?
Here you go.
Marvelous. Well, I'm off.
Nice lady.
Very red scarf.
Am I drooling?
GRANDPA: Goodnight,
my award-winning Packard.
See you bright
and early tomorrow.
We'll go fishing.
Good morning, Packard!
Wake up,
you sleepy eyed car, you.
It's gone!
My Packard is gone!
Sure, we'll find
your beloved Packard, mister.
Right after we find these
other 350 missing vehicles.
Grandpa, it's lunchtime.
You want a sandwich?
I'm not hungry, short man.
I'll just sit here
all afternoon,
and sift through
my old photos.
They're Packard's oil stains,
I'll always cherish them.
So, the police aren't
of any help.
And now, Grandpa is
just sitting by himself
in the garage, sighing
and looking at old pictures
of the Packard,
and kissing them.
It's really got me worried.
I understand, Kimba.
(GRUNTS) Nerts!
I can't stand to see him
like this.
I don't know
how I'm gonna do it,
but I'm gonna find
the Packard.
Name is Spade,
hop on, Marlowe.
Where are we going?
To find the Packard,
sweet cheeks.
I snagged this. The program
from the car show.
Vic and Morrie, co-owners
of a '47 Packard clipper.
What do you want?
Information about
a missing Packard.
Have you guys seen this car?
It won the trophy,
best of the show.
So, you didn't steal it?
Ay, this is the only Packard
we've got.
So, you don't have another
Packard up your sleeve?
Or, in your sock drawer?
What, are you crazy, lady?
Everybody knows
that Packard can't fit
in a sock drawer!
Sheesh, Sheila!
I don't think they did it.
Let's make like a rich dame
and go, "bye-bye."
Next stop,
part time drama critic
and full time hero. Life like.
What on earth
are you babbling about?
Some low-life nabbed
this Packard last night.
Where were you?
I was at the Opera.
All night?
As a matter of fact, yes.
I attended the entire
Ring of the Nibelungenlied
It lasted from 4:00
yesterday afternoon,
to 9:00, this morning.
My ticket stub
and the souvenir coffee mug
should suffice as proof.
A car show
and 17 hours of Opera,
all in one weekend?
Yes. (YAWNS)
And now, I need my rest.
The reviews are in,
and you are tiresome.
One suspect to go, Marlowe.
And, if he's not somehow
tied up in this,
then mess up my hair
and call me Frankie.
Steal your Packard?
I wouldn't even dignify
that with an answer.
Come on, Smythe-Higgins,
you and Steely Phil
go way back.
If your Packard was stolen
wouldn't you suspect him?
Well, certainly.
But, that's because he's
a duplicitous, conniving,
And, since I was in London
for the last 24 hours.
I have an alibi.
It checks out, Grandma.
I mean, Spade.
Let's make like a magician
and disappear.
The trail is cold, Marlowe.
As cold as a brass toilet seat
on the shady side
of an iceberg.
Find the Packard yet, Pookie?
Nope. And the name is Spade,
Slim Spade.
I see, another character.
We talked to all the people
who were at the car show,
and everyone has an alibi.
Did you talk to that lady
with the red scarf?
A dame with a red scarf, eh?
Ivana Divancevic.
Cool your jets there, junior.
Marlowe, that trail
just got red-hot.
Let's make like an egg
and scram.
Make like an egg and scram?
But, Spade, Ivana is one woman
in the city
of millions of women.
Now, what are the odds
we'll find her?
Well, I'd say
they're pretty good.
Hey, Ivana!
Look, Marv's Scarves,
32 Hammett Avenue.
I sell a lot of scarves.
I can't remember who bought
that particular one.
Well, maybe a picture
of Lincoln would
change your mind.
It might.
Oh, no. I had another kind
of picture in mind.
He means five dollars.
1941 Chandler street.
Hi. Does Ivana Divancevic
live here? We have her scarf.
She's out.
I mean, Spade, look.
Do you think it's Grandpa's?
Could be. Could be the doll
painted it red.
Aha! Marlowe!
You stole the Packard.
Grandma, I just
walked in the door.
Oh, well, in that case
never mind.
Listening to M Jazz
Can I help you?
Yeah, we're looking
for a stolen Packard.
Are you suggesting this car
is stolen?
You got it, doll face.
Do you have any proof?
My Grandpa always kept
his radio tuned to M Jazz too,
Ms. Divancevic.
Surely you're not accusing me
of car theft,
because I enjoy jazz.
Funny thing, though,
the knob is stuck,
just like Grandpa's.
Well, all vintage Packards
have radios that stick.
Ask any Packard owner.
On the same radio station?
You've been very charming,
and I've been very patient.
But, I've done
nothing illegal.
This is my Packard,
and you're on
private property.
Yeah, yeah. Don't get
your knickers in a knot.
I just don't believe her.
The radio is stuck on M Jazz.
Isn't that enough proof?
Nope, circumstantial.
If only we had
some real evidence.
Here's looking up
your old address.
That's it!
What's it?
The bottle cap, see?
"I love you, dear."
Oh, well,
that's sweet of you, Marlowe.
No, it's a word puzzle.
Just like the one
on the bottle cap
I dropped on the floor
of Grandpa's Packard.
I bet it's still there.
No time for games, Marlowe.
Let's buzz the fuzz
and put the doll on ice.
Not so fast, pally.
Now, raise your hands
and stand up nice and easy,
or I'll lacquer
the both of you.
You, stripper!
The Jolly Olly man?
Who'd you expect?
Hedy Lamarr, huh?
Why'd you steal
Grandpa's Packard?
I was having the worst day
of my life, okay?
My dog laughed at me.
And then, the expiration date
of my milk was wrong.
And then, the old guy
ran me off the road.
So, I decided to get even.
See, I followed him
to the car show,
and I made with the costume
and the fright wig,
so I can find out
where he kept his Packard.
Then I borrowed it,
and painted it red. See?
Yeah, painted it red!
(CRYING) I'm sorry.
(STAMMERING) I get so crazy.
It's okay.
I won't press any charges,
this time.
As long as you paint
my car green again.
You got it. Thank you.
Don't mention it, to anyone.
Oh, and send me
those pictures.
Pookie, you're one
heck of a detective.
Oh, well, don't thank me,
Slim, Marlowe here,
came up with the clue
that cracked the case.
I wonder what it's like
to have normal grandparents.
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