Harriet the Spy (film)/Transcript

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
 
 
Yeah. Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick,
Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick
 
 
Nickelodeon.
 
 
Mm-hmm.
 
 
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
 
 
Give it, give it
 
 
Yeah, yeah
 
 
Whoo, yeah, yeah
 
 
It's Harriet the spy
 
 
Spies look at the eye
 
 
Now there she go
like looking at
 
 
Say why, hi, my, my, my,
my, my, my, my
 
 
Dig it, dig it, yeah
 
 
There she,
there she go, go, go
 
 
There she go now
 
 
Look at the spy
 
 
Hey, watch her, watch her,
watch her
 
 
She's a spy, my, my
 
 
Dig it, dig it
 
 
Oh, yeah
 
 
She's lookin'
in your eye, eye
 
 
Why? I don't know
 
 
Whoa, yeah.
 
 
Boy with ringlets.
 
 
Man with tattoos.
 
 
Girl on...
 
 
a leash?
 
 
Man, if my parents ever tried
 
 
putting me in one
of those things,
 
 
I'd trade them in.
 
 
This kid looks like
she can roll over and fetch.
 
 
I learn everything I can
 
 
and I write down
everything I see.
 
 
Golly says if I want
to be a writer
 
 
then I'd better start now.
 
 
Which is why I am a spy.
 
 
Lady with a purse.
 
 
Man with...
 
 
her wallet.
 
 
Oh, help!
 
 
Please!
 
 
Stop him!
 
 
Stop him!
 
 
Quack
 
 
Quack, quack
 
 
Quack
 
 
Quack, quack
 
 
And... done.
 
 
What is it?
 
 
It's Nanomichi.
 
 
You know, the god
of storm and thunder.
 
 
- Cool, huh?
- Okay, come on, hurry up
 
 
before it dries.
 
 
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
 
 
Okay, ready?
 
 
Here, give me
your foot.
 
 
The secret tattoo.
 
 
My best friends Sport,
Janie and I thought
 
 
we should be blood buddies.
 
 
But this was so much
less painful.
 
 
Just remember the rule.
 
 
If anyone sees
the secret tattoo...
 
 
...swift and painful death.
 
 
It's... starting.
 
 
Here comes...
 
 
nice Marion Hawthorne.
 
 
It's happening.
 
 
I can feel it happening.
 
 
Good Lord.
 
 
It's the dreaded
Hawthorne effect.
 
 
Oh.
 
 
Good morning, Janie, Simon...
 
 
and Harriet.
 
 
Harri... et!
 
 
I got to get to class.
 
 
See ya.
 
 
See you guys in a few.
 
 
Sixth grade.
 
 
All the usual suspects
are back in action.
 
 
First of all there's
Rachel Hennessy,
 
 
Marion's second in command.
 
 
The only thing more pathetic
than being Marion Hawthorne
 
 
is wanting to be
Marion Hawthorne.
 
 
Pinky Whitehead,
 
 
the human fish belly.
 
 
If Janie's theory is right,
then Pinky's DNA
 
 
was combined with a pint
of vanilla yogurt at birth.
 
 
Carrie Andrews thinks
she's cool...
 
 
'cause she spent her summer
vacation growing boobs.
 
 
Laura Peters looks like
someone pinched her face
 
 
and it stuck that way.
 
 
The boy with purple socks.
 
 
A man of mystery.
 
 
He never talks.
 
 
If I were known
only by my footwear,
 
 
I'd hang myself.
 
 
Beth Ellen Hansen always looks
like she's about to cry.
 
 
I wish someone
would just kick her
 
 
and get it over with.
 
 
And then of course,
there's our teacher...
 
 
Miss Elson.
 
 
She's nice, and polite.
 
 
I bet one day she goes
on a psycho killing spree,
 
 
and all her neighbors
will say...
 
 
"She was nice and polite."
 
 
Well, from what your last
two teachers tell me,
 
 
it looks like
déja vu all over again.
 
 
It's time to vote for
a sixth grade class president.
 
 
And for the third year
in a row...
 
 
we're down to our final
two nominees,
 
 
and they are Harriet Welsch
 
 
and Marion Hawthorne.
 
 
And so, as you may know,
 
 
the duties of the class
president include
 
 
taking attendance,
reporting bad behavior
 
 
and best of all, editing
the sixth grade newspaper.
 
 
And now we vote.
 
 
Marion Hawthorne... again.
 
 
Three years in a row.
 
 
You know what?
I think I'll invent a poison.
 
 
A really good,
 
 
clean, untraceable poison.
 
 
One that fries your brains
 
 
and makes all your bodily
fluids boil at once.
 
 
- Could you?
- Check it out.
 
 
One day I'd be like,
"Oh, hi, Marion.
 
 
"Oh, no, I'm not
finishing this soda."
 
 
And she'd be like...
 
 
I'm serious.
 
 
Any of you guys
want to come over?
 
 
I got to get home.
 
 
If my amoebas start
incubating,
 
 
they really stink up the house.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
Sorry. Spy time.
 
 
Spy route.
 
 
Harrison Withers' place.
 
 
Higher altitude, lower risk.
 
 
But always a show.
 
 
Yeah, everybody's gonna have
some grease today...
 
 
All right, now, Jelly Roll.
Yeah.
 
 
Lady Day
 
 
Come what may,
whatever you say
 
 
We all gonna have
a good time
 
 
A little bit
for you, Satchmo
 
 
You, Bessie
 
 
And how 'bout you,
Jelly Roll?
 
 
Golly says, people
who love work love life.
 
 
Dizzy, Dizzy
 
 
I like Harrison Withers,
 
 
'cause he's a guy
that loves both.
 
 
Scooby dah...
 
 
Scooby-dooby, du-day
 
 
Okay, that's it.
 
 
Curiously, Harrison lives
 
 
for his cats.
 
 
Wow! Birdland.
 
 
But his work is for the birds.
 
 
Charlie Parker.
 
 
Yardbird.
 
 
In any case, his cages
are the most beautiful
 
 
I've ever seen.
 
 
It's him.
 
 
The Health Department
has it in for Harrison,
 
 
'cause they say he's got
too many cats.
 
 
I know, I know.
 
 
Too bad for them,
Harrison has a system.
 
 
See a hat, don't be home.
 
 
No hat, no problem.
 
 
Another score for the cat fan.
 
 
Hey.
 
 
Hey.
 
 
Want some necklace?
 
 
How about you, man?
 
 
Ew. You got it all spitty.
 
 
Tastes better that way.
 
 
Good.
 
 
Hey, Harriet,
what are you writing?
 
 
Notes.
 
 
Can we read them?
 
 
Can you read this?
 
 
Okay, okay.
 
 
I just wanted to know
 
 
why you're always
writing like a maniac.
 
 
I want to remember everything.
 
 
I want to know everything.
 
 
Well, you must realize, Harriet,
 
 
knowing everything
won't do you a bit of good
 
 
unless you use it to put
beauty in this world.
 
 
True or false?
 
 
True.
 
 
Of course it is.
 
 
Harriet, your mother called.
 
 
She's going to be late.
 
 
Come on, Sport, Janie.
 
 
I'll have you home
before dinner.
 
 
Golly always takes us places.
 
 
She sees things
other people barely notice.
 
 
She's my nanny and...
well, she's Golly.
 
 
Okay, survey of the day.
 
 
Today's question is:
 
 
What wouldn't you eat
for a million dollars?
 
 
Bratwurst.
 
 
Sport?
 
 
Um... camel boogers,
dried roadkill,
 
 
and my dad's meatloaf.
 
 
Janie?
 
 
It's the last day of summer.
 
 
Sad but true.
 
 
Au revoir, monsieur soleil.
 
 
Farewell!
 
 
So long, bye-bye.
 
 
Sayonara!
 
 
- Good-bye...
- We're here.
 
 
Is this a garden?
 
 
What a place!
 
 
What is this?
 
 
Golly, what's that?
 
 
That's Mrs. W.,
a very good friend of mine.
 
 
Kind of unusual.
 
 
You know, there are as many ways
to live
 
 
as there are people
in this world.
 
 
And each one
deserves a closer look.
 
 
Welcome!
 
 
Come on in.
 
 
Hi.
 
 
- Hi.
- Hi.
 
 
Hi.
 
 
Look around.
 
 
Have fun.
 
 
Whoa! Awesome!
 
 
Bop, bop, bop, bop!
 
 
Do-wat, do-wat, do-wat
 
 
I'm goin'!
 
 
Ooh.
 
 
I'm goin'!
 
 
Hey, you guys...
 
 
what do you say
I propose a toast?
 
 
Come on.
 
 
Oh... go away.
 
 
Say it quick, before
it stops fizzing.
 
 
Shake it up, take a sip,
and wish for what you want
 
 
most in the world.
 
 
Okay.
 
 
I want to replicate
my own DNA
 
 
and win
the Nobel Peace Prize. Yeah.
 
 
Oh!
 
 
Very good, Janie.
 
 
Okay, shake it up, Sport.
 
 
Shake it up.
 
 
I want to play
more baseball games
 
 
than Cal Ripkin, Jr.
 
 
Oh, yeah!
 
 
And get filthy rich doing it.
 
 
Oh, yeah!
 
 
Shake it, Harriet.
 
 
I want to see the whole world
 
 
and I want to write down
everything.
 
 
Harriet, slow down.
 
 
That's very impressive.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
I'm goin'!
 
 
That's good, Harriet.
 
 
That's very pretty,
isn't it, Janie?
 
 
Yes, I like it.
 
 
Got you!
 
 
Hey, wait up.
 
 
Everybody, hello!
It sucks, sixth grade!
 
 
Feet off the bed, please.
 
 
Okay.
 
 
Feet off.
 
 
Oh, the heinie bounce.
 
 
Good choice.
 
 
Very cute, Harriet,
very cute.
 
 
The neighbors
will ask me,
 
 
"What happened
to Harriet Welsch?"
 
 
"I don't know,"
I'll answer.
 
 
"Such a shame.
 
 
"She disappeared
without a trace.
 
 
And she was
so adorable."
 
 
How long have you been
with me, Golly?
 
 
Since you were born.
 
 
 years and
 tomato sandwiches ago.
 
 
And you'll never leave me,
right?
 
 
Well, I won't leave you
"leave you," Harriet,
 
 
but, you know, one day
you're going to be big enough.
 
 
And well... well, big enough
to take care of yourself.
 
 
And when that day comes
 
 
you won't need me
and I'll be gone.
 
 
But you know what?
 
 
That day is not today.
 
 
And now, it's time for bed.
 
 
Are Mom and Dad
tucking me in?
 
 
No.
 
 
They're at a very fancy party
 
 
and I bet they're thinking
about you right now. Really.
 
 
Listen, I think I can hear 'em.
 
 
Harriet...
 
 
listen to everything
Golly says to you.
 
 
We're drinking champagne
and eating caviar, Harriet.
 
 
Come on.
 
 
Let's go to bed.
 
 
Who's going to bed?
 
 
Uh, you are, tough guy.
 
 
- Come on.
- Ow! Ow!
 
 
Child abuse! Child abuse!
 
 
Oh, you think
that's child abuse?
 
 
You haven't even...
How about that?
 
 
What about that?
What about one of these?
 
 
Stand still,
you little booger.
 
 
Ugh!
 
 
I'm telling you,
just give me the big knife
 
 
and this will all be over.
 
 
Harriet, dear,
you have taken
 
 
a tomato sandwich
to school with you...
 
 
With mayonnaise.
 
 
...with mayonnaise
every day
 
 
for that past five years.
 
 
Don't you want
a little variety?
 
 
Nope.
 
 
Not even cream cheese
with olive?
 
 
Yum-yum-yum!
 
 
Or how about pastrami?
Roast beef?
 
 
How about the fancy
cucumber kind,
 
 
with the crust cut off?
 
 
Mom, I can't help it
if I know what I like.
 
 
And I know that I like tomato.
 
 
After school spy route...
 
 
Hong Fat's Food Emporium
 
 
Holy cats, a veggie thief.
 
 
This must be investigated
thoroughly.
 
 
Frankie, you took the truck
last week.
 
 
Wasn't that enough?
 
 
Stop walking around.
 
 
Frankie, go do some homework.
 
 
I've done my homework.
 
 
Do some reading.
 
 
Watch TV.
Do something.
 
 
Grandpa, all I need
is the truck.
 
 
I know you know
that I mean.
 
 
Come on, Ma,
let me have the truck.
 
 
I got a date!
 
 
What do you take me for?
 
 
The Hong Fats have a son...
Frankie.
 
 
He's cool; American style.
 
 
His parents are
Chinese-style cool.
 
 
Frankie likes going out,
 
 
but they'd rather
he work in the store,
 
 
selling milk and bread
and lizards.
 
 
Ugh!
 
 
I mean, do I try to interfere
with your bookkeeping?!
 
 
My business is comedy!
 
 
That's what I do!
 
 
I'm funny!
I'm the funny guy!
 
 
Yes, you are.
 
 
They're the money guys.
 
 
Okay, slippery,
 
 
bath time's over.
 
 
Come out with your hands up.
 
 
But I just got in.
 
 
Oh, sure.
I believe that one.
 
 
Let's see your fingers,
prune girl.
 
 
Talk to the hand,
'cause the face
 
 
ain't gonna listen.
 
 
He asked me to come up
 
 
with something new,
something fresh.
 
 
You read it.
It was good.
 
 
- Yes.
- It was the funniest script
 
 
we've had all year!
 
 
Yes, it was. So what
was their problem?
 
 
Hey, I want to hear.
 
 
Oh, yeah?
I want to sing opera,
 
 
but I can't, so I don't.
 
 
That downstairs is...
 
 
Well, your dad
has a high-pressure job.
 
 
What's a high-pressure job?
 
 
It's when you don't
get to do what you want
 
 
and when you do,
 
 
you don't have time to do it.
 
 
Do spies have
high-pressure jobs?
 
 
Only when
they're caught.
 
 
I'm never caught.
 
 
You're right.
 
 
You never are.
 
 
Oh, look, a ugly water bug!
 
 
Hey!
 
 
Caught ya.
 
 
Here she is.
 
 
Night.
 
 
Good night.
 
 
Good night. You want
me to tuck you in?
 
 
Golly can do it.
 
 
"'The time has come,'
the Walrus said.
 
 
"To talk of many things."
 
 
"Of shoes and ships
and sealing wax."
 
 
"Of cabbages and kings."
 
 
"And why the sea
is boiling hot."
 
 
"And whether
pigs have wings."'
 
 
- Do you have any wings?
- Yeah.
 
 
Let me see.
 
 
Crap? No, no.
 
 
This stuff is beyond crap.
 
 
This is what crap wants
to be when it grows up.
 
 
Listen to this.
 
 
"A Question Corner
by Marion Hawthorne.
 
 
"Horse riding,
for those who can afford it
 
 
"is a very wonderful sport.
 
 
"Every weekend,
my father takes me riding
 
 
and we laugh together
as we ride."
 
 
Does she mention
her mom pays for dork lessons?
 
 
Man, once that
 
 
disintegration ray
is complete... bzzt!
 
 
She's molecular toast.
 
 
- Oh, yeah.
- Oh, yeah.
 
 
Mom and Dad's night out.
 
 
Me and Golly's night in.
 
 
Hello.
 
 
What's that smell?
 
 
Delicious
German bratwurst.
 
 
We hate bratwurst.
 
 
I love bratwurst.
 
 
Since when?
 
 
I'll get it!
 
 
No. No, no. I will get it.
 
 
I'll get it! I'll get it!
I'll get it!
 
 
I'll get it!
I'll get it! I'll get it!
 
 
I said I'll get it
 
 
and I mean
I'll get it.
 
 
- I got it!
- No.
 
 
I'll get it!
 
 
Good evening, Katherine.
 
 
The veggie thief.
 
 
Katherine?
 
 
Harriet Ann Welsch,
 
 
Mr. George Waldenstein.
 
 
How do you do?
 
 
Yeah.
 
 
I've seen him around.
 
 
Bet he stole that pineapple.
 
 
Good soup.
 
 
Harriet,
 
 
where are your manners?
 
 
I don't know.
 
 
Maybe somebody stole them.
 
 
Hey, you cheated.
 
 
Oh, you win.
 
 
My congratulations.
 
 
Yeah, well, I know some stuff.
 
 
So, you're
 
 
a delivery boy?
 
 
Mm-hmm.
 
 
Well, no offense, but, uh,
you're like, what, ?
 
 
Ish.
 
 
Shouldn't you be
a delivery man by now?
 
 
Harriet!
 
 
Well, Harriet, I'll tell you.
 
 
Not long ago,
I had another life.
 
 
I had a big business,
I had a lot of money,
 
 
and you know what?
 
 
I was the most
miserable man alive.
 
 
So, one day,
I told my wife that...
 
 
- Wife?
- I told my wife that I
 
 
wanted to start all over
again and if she wanted to,
 
 
she could start all over
with me.
 
 
So what happened?
 
 
Oh, she left me, but that's
all right, that was her choice.
 
 
My choice was to become
a delivery boy... well, man.
 
 
I don't have the
business, of course.
 
 
I don't have the money.
 
 
You know what?
 
 
My life is sweet again.
 
 
Hmm.
 
 
The wurst!
 
 
Oh, no! My wurst!
 
 
No, no!
 
 
Oh...
 
 
Oh, Lord.
 
 
Oh, no. No.
 
 
Don't be sad, Katherine.
 
 
This is a blessing
in disguise.
 
 
That's a pretty
good disguise.
 
 
Don't you see?
 
 
The three of us
have to go out for dinner.
 
 
- No.
- Yeah!
 
 
Yes, dinner and a movie!
 
 
Movie, movie, movie!
Come on, Golly!
 
 
The idea seems
popular enough.
 
 
Yes, but the Welschs...
 
 
Will be out.
 
 
Till million o'clock!
 
 
- Oh, please, Golly.
- Please, oh, please?
 
 
Oh, please, please,
please, oh, please.
 
 
Oh, please, please, please.
 
 
What the heck.
 
 
This is absurd.
 
 
Yes!
 
 
Don't speak.
 
 
Wait! Wait for me!
I'm not dead.
 
 
Are you okay?
 
 
Yeah.
 
 
Hey.
 
 
How come
all the lights are on?
 
 
Where is my child?
 
 
Uh-oh.
 
 
Harriet? Harriet,
what are you doing
 
 
in that contraption?
 
 
Come in here at once.
 
 
Miss Golly,
what are you doing
 
 
with my child, at this hour,
without my consent?
 
 
- Who is that?
- My name is...
 
 
- Shut up!
- I'm sorry.
 
 
We only went to dinner
and then a movie.
 
 
Harriet is not
your daughter, Miss Golly.
 
 
She is mine,
and you have no idea, none,
 
 
what it is like
to come home and find
 
 
- that your child is missing.
- We had no idea
 
 
that you'd be home this soon.
 
 
I don't care.
I don't care what you did
 
 
or where you went or why.
 
 
All I know is this
can never happen again.
 
 
Miss Golly... you are fired.
 
 
What?! No!
 
 
Just a moment.
 
 
This is my fault. Please.
 
 
Well, it seems
awfully sudden.
 
 
Actually...
 
 
maybe it's not.
 
 
I think you're right,
Mrs. Welsch.
 
 
It is time for me to go.
 
 
What?
 
 
What?
 
 
What?
 
 
Now, look, I admit, I lost it...
 
 
because, I just...
I was frightened.
 
 
But the thing is, the fact is
we need you, Golly.
 
 
We can't do it alone.
 
 
We all spoke out of turn,
I think.
 
 
None of this is causing...
 
 
Absolutely not.
 
 
Absolutely, no.
 
 
I mean, I think we were
talking about...
 
 
our feelings out there.
 
 
You were afraid
and-and-and now
 
 
what we should
be focusing on, right?
 
 
Is-is Harriet.
 
 
Look, I'm sorry.
 
 
- I lost my head out there.
- Look. There.
 
 
- No, no.
- I was just...
 
 
but you can't go...
I mean, we need you.
 
 
Harriet would never
stand for it.
 
 
Please, won't
you reconsider?
 
 
You know, it's not about
 
 
what happened
outside tonight.
 
 
It really isn't.
 
 
But Golly...
 
 
I just... no, I think it's time.
I really do.
 
 
Harriet can take care of herself
now, so she should.
 
 
But Harriet's just...
 
 
She's just a little girl.
 
 
You know, it's the right thing.
 
 
It's the right thing
for all of us...
 
 
for me, for you
and for Harriet.
 
 
Are you sure?
 
 
Yeah, I am.
 
 
"'The time has come,"
the Walrus said,"
 
 
"To talk of many things...
 
 
"Of shoes and ships
and sealing wax..."
 
 
"Of cabbages and kings...
 
 
"And why the sea
is boiling hot...
 
 
And whether pigs have wings."
 
 
Where you going to go?
 
 
Well, I don't really know.
 
 
I'm thinking I may travel.
 
 
Are you going to go be
some other kid's nanny now?
 
 
And love them more than you?
 
 
Never.
 
 
Remember, in my life,
in this world
 
 
there will always
only be one Harriet.
 
 
So get back to work...
you've lost nearly
 
 
an entire day
on your notebook.
 
 
It doesn't matter.
 
 
It doesn't matter?
 
 
Did I hear you say
"It doesn't matter"?
 
 
Because I thought
I heard you say
 
 
"It doesn't matter,"
 
 
but Harriet wouldn't say that,
would she?
 
 
Now come on...
 
 
just because
you're on your own,
 
 
doesn't mean the world
stops turning,
 
 
or that there are
no more fascinating people
 
 
to observe and fill
your notebooks with.
 
 
That's your job, Harriet.
 
 
That's your job for life.
 
 
And when you're all grown up
 
 
and you sell
your first novel,
 
 
I'll be first in line
at that bookstore,
 
 
getting my autographed copy.
 
 
I hope.
 
 
I'm not going to cry.
 
 
I'm not going to cry.
 
 
I'm not going
to cry.
 
 
Ah, it's okay to cry.
 
 
But whatever you do,
don't laugh.
 
 
No, Harriet,
 
 
I will not tolerate laughter
as I leave, no.
 
 
Hey...
 
 
come here.
 
 
You remember...
 
 
a good spy can
get in there and fight.
 
 
Good-bye, Harriet the Spy.
 
 
I was kind of worried, you know?
 
 
I kind of thought, "Well,
there's something wrong
 
 
with me or something," and so...
 
 
Growing up from girl to woman,
 
 
there's so much to get used to.
 
 
This is the time when a whole
new set of feelings unfold.
 
 
Feelings about yourself
and your maturing body...
 
 
Everything's the same
as when Golly was here.
 
 
It looks the same...
 
 
it smells the same...
 
 
but there's this
tiny hole inside me
 
 
that wasn't there before.
 
 
It's like...
 
 
like a splinter
in your finger...
 
 
only this one's
right above my stomach.
 
 
Harriet,
 
 
are you okay?
 
 
Uh-huh.
 
 
Something's... different.
 
 
No cats?
 
 
How can Harrison Withers
not have a billion cats around?
 
 
They finally nailed him.
 
 
I will always remember
that face.
 
 
That's the face you make
when you really lose something.
 
 
Uh-oh, Frankie took the truck.
 
 
Speak English!
 
 
Oh, okay, you want us
to speak English, huh?!
 
 
Well, you are a jerk, huh?
 
 
I tell you, "Don't
take the truck.
 
 
You smash the truck."
 
 
Well, you tell me now,
 
 
Mr. Wise Guy,
was one date worth it?
 
 
...we have people
here shopping!
 
 
Yeah.
 
 
Hey, all right, Grandpa.
 
 
It's cool, right?
 
 
It wasn't a big deal, huh?
 
 
I knew you'd
understand, right?
 
 
Sometimes I think
families everywhere
 
 
are exactly the same.
 
 
Everybody get back to work.
 
 
Mom, Dad, please?
Grandpa!
 
 
Just calm down.
 
 
Too exciting.
 
 
$ . .
 
 
You got it or not?
 
 
Hey, Sport.
 
 
How you doing?
 
 
Hi.
 
 
Um, I saw you drop this outside.
 
 
Oh...
 
 
Thanks.
 
 
I got to go.
 
 
Now it's time for our annual
sixth grade holiday pageant.
 
 
So... pageant ideas...
 
 
who would like
to make a suggestion?
 
 
Simon.
 
 
Pirates.
 
 
Okay.
 
 
Good dramatic potential,
if not exactly seasonal.
 
 
Anyone else?
 
 
How 'bout the Manhattan Project?
 
 
I can be J. Robert Oppenheimer
 
 
and with the right chemicals,
 
 
I know I can do
a mushroom cloud.
 
 
That's impressive, Janie.
 
 
But I believe there's
a taste issue involved.
 
 
Ballet.
 
 
Pilgrims.
 
 
Musical.
 
 
Swan Lake.
 
 
Jazz.
 
 
Vlad the lmpaler.
 
 
Yeah, that's cool!
 
 
I think the most excellent idea
for a pageant
 
 
would be
a giant holiday feast.
 
 
Something healthy, low in fat,
and very delicious, of course.
 
 
There could be parts
for everybody.
 
 
Uh, grains, vegetables
 
 
and best of all,
a shiny, silver centerpiece.
 
 
That's a very good idea, Marion.
 
 
You could play the barf bag.
 
 
She made me an onion.
 
 
Tell me about it.
 
 
"You, my dear,
are a great big squash."
 
 
I'd like to squash her.
 
 
I've got something better.
Come here.
 
 
Smell this.
 
 
Ugh!
 
 
What is that?
 
 
You like it?
 
 
Wait, I mean you hate it.
 
 
It's like something crawled
up my nose and then died.
 
 
Excellent.
 
 
It's a sulfur-based
alkaloid.
 
 
I want it to chemically
fuse with combustibles.
 
 
And, in English,
that would mean...
 
 
Stink bomb.
 
 
Stink bomb.
 
 
We tape it to the
school air ducts,
 
 
attach it to a timer,
 
 
and five minutes before
the school play starts...
 
 
Empty auditorium.
 
 
Hey...
 
 
What are you girls doing?
 
 
Nothing.
Nothing.
 
 
Are you getting ready
for your big stage debut?
 
 
Actually, Mrs. Gibbs,
 
 
Janie and I were just talking
about the school play.
 
 
Right, Janie?
 
 
Yeah, we're really
looking forward to it.
 
 
Good, good.
 
 
That's good.
 
 
Janie, what is this
supposed to be?
 
 
No, Mom.
 
 
Don't touch it.
 
 
What?!
 
 
Janie!
 
 
It's an experiment with mold.
 
 
Oh... Janie!
 
 
That's where my Veronica's
Closet bra went to, huh?
 
 
You know,
I'm sick to death
 
 
of this mad scientist baloney.
 
 
Look at this.
Look at this.
 
 
Girl, we got to talk.
 
 
I don't know what I'm
going to do with you,
 
 
but we're going
to talk.
 
 
Some of Janie's experiments
really creep me out.
 
 
I wonder if she'll grow up
to be a billion-IQ genius,
 
 
or a total nutcase.
 
 
Sport, Sport...
 
 
Chicken man.
 
 
Do it again, do it again.
 
 
Sport.
 
 
Sport...
 
 
Sport!
 
 
Help me.
 
 
Hey, Harriet.
 
 
Hey.
 
 
All right, come on.
 
 
How does it look?
 
 
Uh...
give me the mousse.
 
 
No, no...
 
 
Don't worry, it's just
one of Dad's nightmares.
 
 
I mean day-mares.
 
 
He says it happens
to all great writers
 
 
before they get their big break.
 
 
Hmm, a real writer.
 
 
My dad calls guys like your dad
"a starving artist."
 
 
Who's starving?
 
 
I cook, I clean,
I do the dishes and the books.
 
 
What do you mean,
do the books?
 
 
These are the books.
 
 
Every week I get a check.
 
 
I write the amount
down in here,
 
 
I pay the bills and then
whatever's left is food money.
 
 
I hate money.
 
 
You'd like it a lot more
if you didn't have any.
 
 
I got to get to work.
 
 
Hey, Sport?
 
 
No! Don't.
 
 
Yeah, yeah, come on.
 
 
Strike a pose.
 
 
Spy route: Brand-new stalk.
 
 
Home of Agatha K. Plummer,
 
 
a big private house
with big-type security.
 
 
Until today.
 
 
A spy must choose
ingenious tricks,
 
 
must blend
into her surroundings.
 
 
Hiya, Freckles.
 
 
Must live with being called...
"Freckles."
 
 
Here we go, in you go.
 
 
Here he is.
 
 
So, here's the little monster.
 
 
Bye. Wave to the man.
 
 
Are you happy?
 
 
Good.
 
 
Oh, score!
 
 
Quiet. Quiet, puppy dog.
 
 
Go away!
 
 
Don't, don't, don't.
Go away.
 
 
Pee-wee, don't make me
come in there.
 
 
Away.
 
 
Go away!
 
 
Pee-wee... get away
 
 
from that dumbwaiter.
 
 
Shut up.
 
 
Stupid fuzzball.
 
 
I ought to shave you down
and teach you to hunt.
 
 
Shut up!
 
 
No, no.
 
 
No, darling.
 
 
If you want to talk about
something delicious...
 
 
...I have
 
 
something delicious.
 
 
I have the secret of life.
 
 
Yes, darling.
 
 
You simply
 
 
crawl into your bed,
 
 
and you never, ever
leave it again.
 
 
Never...
 
 
Ah, sweet Liberace.
 
 
What was that?
 
 
I have no idea.
 
 
Then why don't you
 
 
go over there and get an idea?
 
 
And if it's that rat...
 
 
kill it!
 
 
Oh, Mrs. Plummer,
 
 
I'm sure
 
 
it's absolutely nothing.
 
 
Oh, well...
 
 
A good spy never gets caught.
 
 
A good spy
never gets caught.
 
 
A good spy never gets caught.
 
 
I am the suckiest spy on earth.
 
 
Hey, Harriet, check this out.
 
 
"This year's winter
pageant promises
 
 
"to be truly inspiring,
as Miss Elson's
 
 
"sixth grade class
presents a holiday feast,
 
 
"starring a turkey, vegetables,
 
 
"and a grand finale
 
 
of delicious, dancing... gravy."
 
 
Oh, my God.
 
 
I'd like to see her
split a turkey suit
 
 
with butt-breath
Pinky Whitehead.
 
 
Hurry up.
 
 
You're so slow.
 
 
Come on, you guys.
 
 
Harriet, you want
to go play in the park?
 
 
Or do you have to do that
top secret spy deal again?
 
 
No. I can play.
 
 
You can?
 
 
Yeah, come on.
 
 
No way.
 
 
I still say we play
"Buy the Volvo."
 
 
No way.
 
 
- That's stupid.
- No.
 
 
No way!
 
 
You guys, I can be the dealer.
 
 
You guys can be
the couples looking
 
 
for a sassy yet affordable
family vehicle.
 
 
Get real.
 
 
Yeah, right.
 
 
Okay, I've got it:
Hide and Seek.
 
 
- No.
- Hide and Seek?
 
 
I am set.
 
 
That's retarded.
 
 
Red Rover, Red Rover.
 
 
No!
 
 
That's a kid's game.
 
 
I don't think so.
 
 
- Kick the can.
- Kick...
 
 
What about Spin the Bottle?
 
 
Ew!
 
 
Yeah, right.
 
 
I got it.
 
 
Bumper tag.
 
 
See, now, that's a good idea.
 
 
Eenie-meenie, miney-mo,
 
 
Catch a tiger by the toe.
 
 
If he hollers, let him go.
 
 
My mom said to pick
the very best one,
 
 
and you are
 
 
it.
 
 
Away, you foolish mortals!
 
 
Beth's it!
 
 
Got you!
 
 
You run fast,
 
 
but now I shall destroy you.
 
 
Yeah.
 
 
Oh.
 
 
You winded?
 
 
Nope.
 
 
Me, too.
 
 
Upsey-daisy.
 
 
Time to move.
 
 
Where's my notebook?
 
 
Your what?
 
 
My notebook!
 
 
Oh, my God.
 
 
Boy...
 
 
- Wait, wait. No, wait.
- Carrie...
 
 
Carrie.
Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.
 
 
Andrews.
 
 
Get this. Get... Okay.
 
 
"Carrie Andrews thinks
she's so cool
 
 
"'cause she spent
her summer vacation
 
 
growing boobs."
 
 
- Come on, read some more.
- Okay.
 
 
Hold on, hold on.
 
 
Okay.
 
 
"Now, the Boy with
the Purple Socks
 
 
is a man of mystery."
 
 
Mystery!
 
 
Hold on, you guys,
you guys.
 
 
Listen, listen, listen.
 
 
"The only thing more pathetic
 
 
"than being Marion Hawthorne,
 
 
is wanting to be
Marion Hawthorne."
 
 
Oh, Rachel.
 
 
Rachel.
 
 
She is...
 
 
- Jealous.
- She's jealous.
 
 
It's pure jealousy.
 
 
You give that back now!
 
 
Looks like there's something
in here for everyone.
 
 
You heard her, Marion.
 
 
Give it back before I pound you
into the cement.
 
 
Ooh, I'm so scared.
 
 
Hey, maybe there
is something
 
 
in here for you.
 
 
Janie...
 
 
Janie, Janie, Janie...
 
 
Come and get it.
 
 
Read it. Come on.
 
 
What does it say?
 
 
- Come on.
- Janie, Janie.
 
 
"Janie really
creeps me out."
 
 
Ooh.
 
 
"I wonder if she'll grow up
to be...
 
 
a total nutcase..."?
 
 
A nutcase!
 
 
Oh.
 
 
Hey.
 
 
Her best friend.
 
 
That's her best friend.
 
 
Beth.
 
 
"I wish
someone would kick Beth Ellen."
 
 
Oh!
 
 
Uh, Laura.
 
 
"Laura Peters...
her face looks totally...
 
 
pinched."
 
 
Oh.
 
 
"If I were the boy
with the purple socks...
 
 
I'd hang myself."
 
 
Something else.
 
 
Cut it out, Marion.
 
 
Oh.
 
 
Maybe there is something
in here for Sport.
 
 
No!
 
 
"Sport..."
 
 
Shut up!
 
 
Fine, then.
 
 
I'll read it right out loud
 
 
so everybody can hear.
 
 
No!
 
 
"Sport is so poor,
he can't even afford food.
 
 
"Why can't his father
 
 
just get a real job?"
 
 
Oh, and get this, as well.
 
 
"One day, I had to pretend
he dropped a dollar
 
 
just so he could afford
some milk and bread."
 
 
Oh.
 
 
Ooh, harsh.
 
 
Oh, oh, oh.
 
 
That's mean.
 
 
Sport, I...
 
 
I-I got to go.
 
 
It-it's spaghetti night.
 
 
I got to make spaghetti.
 
 
I can't stay here anymore.
 
 
Harriet...
 
 
sit over there till we decide
what to do with you next.
 
 
Wait. What's this?
 
 
"I learn everything I can
 
 
"and I write down everything
I see.
 
 
"Golly says if I
want to be a writer,
 
 
"then I'd better start now,
 
 
"which is why
 
 
I'm a spy."
 
 
My position is bad.
 
 
My position is terrible.
 
 
My position could not be worse.
 
 
Golly would know what to do.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
Harriet, are you all right?
 
 
Fine.
 
 
Do you want anything?
 
 
No.
 
 
You sure?
 
 
Ole Golly, Ole Golly,
Ole Golly,
 
 
Ole Golly, Ole Golly,
 
 
Ole Golly, Ole Golly,
Ole Golly.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
I said
 
 
I'm fine.
 
 
Really.
 
 
Lookit.
 
 
Oh, my God.
 
 
Hey, Sport.
 
 
Janie.
 
 
You hear something?
 
 
No.
 
 
Plug this in over there.
 
 
Over there?
 
 
Um, well, that one's closer.
 
 
Carrie? Carrie?
 
 
Oh, my...
 
 
Sport? Sport, catch.
 
 
Let me see.
 
 
We love our teacher,
and our best friend
 
 
We'll stay together
 
 
Until the end
 
 
We're moving up...
 
 
...and together,
we'll always have fun
 
 
We love our teacher,
and our best friend
 
 
We'll stay together
 
 
Until the end
 
 
We're one for all,
and all for one
 
 
And together,
we'll always have fun...
 
 
I will always have a notebook.
 
 
Only Golly understands this.
 
 
I will write down everything,
and I'll know everything.
 
 
And I'll take everything
I know,
 
 
and write my memoirs,
 
 
and be a huge, big, celebrity,
 
 
and go on all the talk shows
 
 
and tell them
Marion Hawthorne smells.
 
 
And... won't that rock?
 
 
What smells?
 
 
Eww!
 
 
Did something die?
 
 
- Get away.
- Eww!
 
 
Where's your notebook, Harriet?
 
 
I don't know, Marion.
 
 
Have you looked
up your butt?
 
 
You all better stop
being mean to me,
 
 
or else, I'm going to...
 
 
Or else, what?
 
 
Yeah, what are you
gonna do about it?
 
 
I'm gonna get you real bad.
 
 
I'm gonna...
 
 
No, that's where you're
wrong, Harriet the Spy.
 
 
We're gonna get you so bad...
 
 
and you know why?
 
 
'Cause we have a plan.
 
 
Yeah!
 
 
I don't like giving orders
twice, you know.
 
 
I told you to nail it
to the side, not to the right.
 
 
One, two, three, heave!
 
 
I need more nails.
 
 
Harder, harder.
 
 
Hold it, hold it.
 
 
A club for catching spies?
 
 
I'm doomed.
 
 
"If Golly said choose
between being a spy
 
 
"and having friends...
 
 
I'd pick spy."
 
 
Maybe you're not allowed
to have both."
 
 
Ugh!
 
 
Get her!
 
 
Spy-catchers are everywhere.
 
 
My route is ruined.
 
 
No one can stand in my way.
 
 
Forget that my heart sank
 
 
when I saw you standing there
with that policeman.
 
 
This is your mother talking.
 
 
But when I ask you
for some kind of explanation,
 
 
it's like...
 
 
It's not that big a deal.
 
 
Oh, no... wrong.
 
 
Being brought home by the cops
 
 
is a very big deal, Harriet.
 
 
Cop. Cop.
 
 
One guy. That's it.
 
 
No, that's not it;
we've spoken with Miss Elson.
 
 
You remember school?
 
 
And she tells us
that you've done
 
 
zero schoolwork in days.
 
 
All you do is play
with your notebook.
 
 
It's not play, it's work.
 
 
School is your
work, Harriet.
 
 
Yeah, well, she can shut up,
'cause I'm learning tons.
 
 
Oh, yes?
 
 
Well, not about history, huh?
 
 
Not about geography.
 
 
Not even English.
 
 
I swear, if it's
not in your notebook,
 
 
it's as if you don't
want to know about it.
 
 
So what?
 
 
Harriet...
 
 
This... obsession
you've developed
 
 
is not entirely
healthy.
 
 
Now, we've made
a decision.
 
 
And-And we, uh...
 
 
We want you to stop
 
 
with the notebook.
 
 
S-Stop writing?
 
 
Not forever,
just as an experiment.
 
 
Harriet, the world is filled
with so many things
 
 
a person like yourself
could enjoy.
 
 
Well, that's right.
 
 
And you're going to find that,
sometimes
 
 
just experiencing
them can be enough.
 
 
That's how I experience things...
with my notebook.
 
 
Harriet...
 
 
No. Let's see you
experience things
 
 
without your unhealthy
obsessions, huh?
 
 
Every day you come home,
and pour yourself a big martini.
 
 
How come you don't
give that up?
 
 
And how many days go by
 
 
without you going
to a stupid party?
 
 
Or buying some other piece
of crappy jewelry... like, two?
 
 
Don't take that tone with us,
young lady.
 
 
We're your parents.
We make the rules in this house.
 
 
Now, hand over
the notebook.
 
 
I threw it away.
 
 
You're sitting on it.
 
 
I'm not moving.
 
 
If you make me move you,
 
 
I will move you.
 
 
I'll just get another one.
 
 
Oh?
 
 
Miss Elson will be checking.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
Don't you want
to talk about this?
 
 
No.
 
 
Harriet... did we forget?
 
 
Notebook check.
 
 
Dweeb!
 
 
Hey...
 
 
Harriet the Spy,
Harriet the Spy...
 
 
Harriet the Spy,
Harriet the Spy...
 
 
Oops!
 
 
I'm sorry!
 
 
You did that
on purpose!
 
 
It was an accident,
I swear.
 
 
- Here, let me help you.
- No!
 
 
Get away!
 
 
Get away!
 
 
That's it, work together,
 
 
and we'll have Harriet
cleaned up in no time.
 
 
Don't worry, Harriet,
 
 
we'll all help you.
 
 
No, stop it.
 
 
I don't need your help.
 
 
You all get away!
 
 
No!
 
 
No!
 
 
Harriet!
 
 
Wait!
 
 
Whoa...
 
 
Well, that wasn't
very dignified.
 
 
"To be... or not to be...
 
 
"That is the question.
 
 
Wait.
 
 
Is that a question?
 
 
"Whether 'tis nobler
in the mind to suffer
 
 
"The slings and arrows
 
 
"Of outrageous fortune
 
 
"Or to take arms
 
 
"Against a sea of terribles
 
 
"And by optioning, end them?
 
 
"To die...
 
 
I want to die.
 
 
"To sleep no more
 
 
"And by a sleep to say
 
 
"We end the heart-chat
 
 
"And the thousand
nags of shock...
 
 
"The flesh
 
 
"is here, too...
 
 
"'Tis a consummation
 
 
"Development to be wished
 
 
To die... to sleep no more."
 
 
There are many signs that Tom
is changing from a boy to a man.
 
 
Tom is getting a deeper voice
 
 
and sometimes it gives him
a little trouble.
 
 
Don't be insulting
 
 
my... friend.
 
 
This is an actual photograph
of vocal chords taken through
 
 
a special instrument.
 
 
The chords vibrate
when the person breathes out.
 
 
The larynx is here
at the top of the windpipe
 
 
and is the housing
for the vocal cords.
 
 
Bra on a pole!
Bra on a pole!
 
 
Oh, no.
 
 
Hello, Marion.
 
 
Get away from me, Harriet.
 
 
Or what, you gonna
tell your father?
 
 
I heard my parents talking.
 
 
You don't have a father.
 
 
All those stories about
horseback riding are garbage.
 
 
You made them all up.
 
 
Your father lives in Amsterdam.
 
 
He hasn't seen you
in three years.
 
 
And you want to know why,
Marion?
 
 
'Cause he
doesn't love you.
 
 
Move.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
Harriet, come down here.
 
 
Harriet, what's happened to you?
 
 
We've gotten calls
from every parent at school.
 
 
They're all either
furious or terrified.
 
 
Marion Hawthorne
can't stop crying.
 
 
Laura Peters has locked herself
in the bathroom
 
 
and won't come out.
 
 
The only parents
we haven't heard from
 
 
are Pinky Whitehead's.
 
 
I'm not answering that.
 
 
I always hated school myself.
 
 
No, now, see,
that's the problem.
 
 
What? I know...
 
 
Something is very wrong here,
Ben, and you need
 
 
...to take this seriously.
- I am!
 
 
- No, come on.
- I'm just as serious as...
 
 
You know what you're doing.
 
 
- You're coming in and teasing...
- No, I'm not.
 
 
We have a really
bad situation.
 
 
We don't know what
the situation is at all.
 
 
You always come in and make
jokes and then I have to come in
 
 
Do we know
what the situation is?
 
 
...and be the grumpy one.
 
 
Maybe we should find out
what it is.
 
 
I'm fine, I'm fine...
 
 
I'm fine,
I'm fine...
 
 
I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine...
 
 
I'm fine!
 
 
No, sweetheart.
 
 
I can't understand
how this is fine.
 
 
Harriet, uh, uh,
can you explain this?
 
 
Well, what do we do now?
 
 
We can do anything you like.
 
 
What am I supposed to do?
 
 
How about a game?
 
 
Do you play chess?
 
 
Golly was going
to teach me, but...
 
 
Golly?
 
 
Who's he?
 
 
Just somebody.
 
 
You sit here and play
with this stuff all day?
 
 
Don't you have toys at home?
 
 
Yeah.
 
 
But I'm .
 
 
You stink.
 
 
What are you doing?
 
 
Just taking notes.
 
 
Are they the mean,
 
 
nasty kind...
or the regular kind?
 
 
Why?
 
 
Because...
 
 
I'm just telling you,
 
 
it's tough getting away
with the nasty kind these days.
 
 
Thanks for the advice.
 
 
Nobody ever takes
 
 
your notebook away from you,
I bet.
 
 
Tell you what.
 
 
How about I give
you a notebook.
 
 
Would you like that?
 
 
Yeah. Sure.
 
 
This guy's not bad.
 
 
Definitely one of those people
 
 
Golly says deserves
a closer look.
 
 
At least he knows the value
of a good notebook.
 
 
Harriet?
 
 
Hmm?
 
 
It's time to go.
 
 
Can I keep the notebook?
 
 
I'll have to talk
to your parents about that.
 
 
Well, what did he say?
 
 
What did he say?
 
 
Well, he says that, uh,
you're fine.
 
 
And, uh, you're a wonderful girl
and very smart
 
 
and you'll be
a terrific writer some day.
 
 
I could've told you that.
 
 
I didn't read it.
 
 
Good.
 
 
You know, Harriet,
 
 
uh, someday... when you grow up...
you might have children.
 
 
Doubt it.
 
 
Well, not tomorrow,
 
 
or soon, but some day.
 
 
Maybe.
 
 
And, if you do,
 
 
you're going to try really hard
to understand them.
 
 
But I keep telling you...
 
 
I know, you told me
about the notebook.
 
 
And even though
you're telling me,
 
 
and even though
I'm listening,
 
 
I still don't
understand it, Harriet.
 
 
Is that why you
took it away?
 
 
We made a mistake.
 
 
Don't do it
again, okay?
 
 
We try.
 
 
Mom?
 
 
Yeah?
 
 
Will you tuck me in?
 
 
Sure.
 
 
There we go.
 
 
Green.
 
 
G-R-E-E-N.
 
 
Aren't you going to work
on your notebook today?
 
 
Yeah. Pick a number.
 
 
Seven.
 
 
One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven.
 
 
All right.
 
 
"Turn around."
 
 
That's not a fortune.
 
 
Turn around.
 
 
Why?
 
 
Turn around.
 
 
Golly?
 
 
Golly!
 
 
Why, Harriet the Spy,
 
 
I believe you've grown
a full inch.
 
 
Nuh-uh.
 
 
You certainly have grown.
 
 
Oh, Golly!
 
 
So what do I do now, Golly?
 
 
"Beauty is truth,
truth beauty.
 
 
"That is all
ye know on Earth
 
 
and all ye need
to know."
 
 
John Keats.
 
 
What is that
supposed to mean?
 
 
It means you've
got trouble.
 
 
You wrote down the
truth in your notebook,
 
 
and your friends, who weren't
supposed to see it, did.
 
 
Now there are only two
things for you to do,
 
 
and you're not going to
like either one of them.
 
 
Like what?
 
 
Well, you have to apologize
and you have to lie.
 
 
But you said never to lie.
 
 
I know, I did.
 
 
Let me see how
I can explain this.
 
 
Sometimes a little lie that
makes people feel better
 
 
isn't really wrong.
 
 
You know, like,
you can thank someone
 
 
for a meal they cooked you,
even if you hated it.
 
 
You could tell a sick friend
that they look better,
 
 
even if they don't.
 
 
Sometimes a really small lie
can be a really big help.
 
 
They tried to squash me
like a bug.
 
 
It's too hard.
 
 
It's not worth it.
 
 
Aw, never say
that, Harriet.
 
 
You're worth it.
 
 
You're an individual,
and you know something?
 
 
That makes people nervous.
 
 
And it's going to keep making
people nervous your whole life.
 
 
My whole life?
 
 
Yep.
 
 
What do I do?
 
 
You stay true to Harriet
and you accept the cost.
 
 
Now, come on.
 
 
That's enough lessons
for today, okay?
 
 
You're .
 
 
I think it's time for you
to start writing something
 
 
other than notes.
 
 
Like what?
 
 
You'll think of something.
 
 
Can't you come back
for just a little while?
 
 
Oh, no, I never go back.
Only forward.
 
 
And you know what else?
 
 
Good friends are one
of life's blessings.
 
 
Don't give them up
without a fight.
 
 
Replicate.
Replicate.
 
 
Stupid spores.
 
 
Hi, Janie.
 
 
Look what you made me do.
 
 
This stuff is going to eat
 
 
right through the floor.
 
 
Three months of incubation
down the porcelain pee hole.
 
 
If you roll the rug over it,
it won't show so much.
 
 
Oh, so next time you
can ruin the rug?
 
 
No.
 
 
Then why are you here?
 
 
I just want to say that...
 
 
What?
 
 
Forget it.
 
 
Fine.
 
 
Forget it.
 
 
I'm sorry, Janie, okay?
 
 
I'm sorry.
 
 
Will you take a look at this.
 
 
Huh? Huh?
 
 
What do you think of your
old man now, Sport?
 
 
 smackaroos.
 
 
No more paying with change.
 
 
No more, no more spaghetti.
 
 
Going to feel like steak.
 
 
And you know those fancy
basketball sneakers
 
 
with the, with the
buckles and the Velcro
 
 
and the crap all over them?
 
 
Their yours, buddy boy,
all yours.
 
 
Hello?
 
 
Murray.
 
 
Hey, hey,
I take it all back.
 
 
All agents
aren't useless.
 
 
Oh, I'm kidding you,
I'm kidding you, man.
 
 
You know I was always
in your corner.
 
 
Oh, yeah, I knew
you'd come through.
 
 
Well, Sport and I
are gonna do
 
 
a little celebrating today...
 
 
- Hey.
- Hey.
 
 
Sold his book?
 
 
Got a real job.
 
 
Hey, Harriet, you
hear the good news?
 
 
You're a writer.
 
 
So how's it feel?
 
 
Oh, big slice off heaven,
 
 
side order of fries.
 
 
Say, you hungry?
 
 
I feel like going
to the fanciest,
 
 
schmanciest
restaurant in town.
 
 
We'll abuse the waiter.
 
 
Who's with me? Harriet?
 
 
She can't come.
 
 
What do you mean,
she can't come?
 
 
You haven't even asked her.
 
 
I said she can't come.
 
 
You can't be my friend
if you're not my friend.
 
 
I'm sorry, Sport.
 
 
I'm sorry.
 
 
No one will forgive me.
 
 
Things will never be the same.
 
 
I have nothing left to lose.
 
 
Someone told me
the only reason
 
 
you guys play with me is
because of my mom's cake.
 
 
Well, it is very good cake.
 
 
Yeah, but how come we get
these pieces and you get those?
 
 
We told you,
we're officers.
 
 
And we need our strength.
 
 
You get to fix the clubhouse.
 
 
Somebody's dreaming.
 
 
I am so bored.
 
 
If you don't like it,
you can leave.
 
 
Hey, you're right.
 
 
Wait up.
 
 
Anybody sick of
listening to her
 
 
ought to get a life.
 
 
Okay, but you can't come back!
 
 
We're voting! It's official!
 
 
Shh! Teacher!
There she is.
 
 
Good morning.
 
 
Today, we are...
 
 
Yes, Harriet?
 
 
Miss Elson,
I've been thinking a lot,
 
 
and you know how class president
 
 
automatically gets to be editor
of the sixth grade newspaper?
 
 
Yes.
 
 
Well, I think...
 
 
I think that it's
too much for one person
 
 
and that it's not fair
to everybody
 
 
because everybody
deserves a chance.
 
 
And...
 
 
And we should change it.
 
 
Objection!
 
 
This isn't a courtroom, Marion.
 
 
I like that idea, Harriet.
 
 
Let's see what the class thinks.
 
 
Miss Elson, I think
 
 
I speak for everyone when I say
 
 
this is, this is a really,
really stupid idea.
 
 
That is one opinion.
 
 
But let's take a vote.
 
 
Marion is now editor
of the Guidepost.
 
 
Would anyone like to nominate
another candidate?
 
 
Well, I guess if no one
has anything to say...
 
 
I have something to say.
 
 
I think that Harriet's
a very good writer and...
 
 
if we only listen
to one person's opinion
 
 
we may never
get anywhere new.
 
 
But Harriet might have
something very original
 
 
and I'd like to read
what she has to write.
 
 
Is there a second?
 
 
I second it.
 
 
I third it.
 
 
Okay, then.
 
 
Harriet Welsch is now
a candidate for editor.
 
 
Who votes for Harriet?
 
 
That... is that.
 
 
Yes.
 
 
I am on a mission
to be a great writer.
 
 
A good friend once told me
 
 
that all great writers
try to see everything.
 
 
Okay, here goes:
 
 
I knew this guy once.
 
 
He used to be a bajillionaire.
 
 
Now he rides a bike.
 
 
Want to know the freaky part?
 
 
He says the bike's better.
 
 
Please write in
if you think he's lying.
 
 
There's a difference
between looking at stuff
 
 
and really seeing it.
 
 
Look who's here.
 
 
Give them some bread, huh?
 
 
Here you are.
 
 
To really see,
 
 
you've got to get a closer look.
 
 
Why, thank you.
 
 
So much.
 
 
A cabbage.
 
 
Carrots in here for you.
 
 
And a sausage.
 
 
I've noticed that, sometimes,
 
 
stuff you think
is broken forever
 
 
is actually totally fixable.
 
 
But some stuff is supposed
to fall apart.
 
 
Speaking of which,
 
 
certain high ranking officials
of a certain
 
 
secret club had better
de-dorkify themselves
 
 
in a hurry...
 
 
or else everybody's going back
 
 
to where they were
in the first place.
 
 
This reporter believes
 
 
that de-dorkification
is a difficult,
 
 
but not impossible, process.
 
 
Mostly, you've got to want
to be cured.
 
 
But I'm pretty sure
it's a two steps forward,
 
 
one step back kind of deal.
 
 
In theater news, Miss Elson's
sixth grade holiday pageant
 
 
was the theatrical controversy
of the season.
 
 
Some were happy to see it,
 
 
and who am I to argue?
 
 
Others say... it stunk.
 
 
This reporter has no comment.
 
 
And, hey, stupid school board,
 
 
give Miss Elson a raise,
would you?
 
 
She's not so bad,
as teachers go.
 
 
And she puts up with a lot.
 
 
There's evidence to suggest
that Janie Gibbs
 
 
will grow up to be
the world's greatest scientist.
 
 
So far, she has shown amazing
progress in the areas
 
 
of mold manipulation
and chemical combustibles.
 
 
We have also learned
that Sport's father
 
 
is rolling in dough
from his latest book,
 
 
which just goes to show,
if you stick to what you love...
 
 
and work like a dog...
you will succeed.
 
 
For those of you who don't know,
a retraction
 
 
is when a newspaper
takes something back.
 
 
This newspaper would like
to retract certain statements
 
 
in a certain notebook
 
 
which may have hurt
certain people's feelings.
 
 
They were lies.
 
 
And those that weren't lies...
 
 
were mean.
 
 
Like, just because
a person's father is far away
 
 
does not mean
he doesn't love you.
 
 
Anyway, don't think about it.
 
 
The truth is important,
 
 
but so are your friends.
 
 
And if you can have them both,
then it's a good life.
 
 
Until next issue, I remain
your faithful correspondent,
 
 
Harriet M. Welsch.
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And dance till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And dance till you...
sing it now
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And dance till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Just try to release
that pressure
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake... say it now
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Try to release that pressure
 
 
Get up off...
 
 
Huh
 
 
Good God
 
 
So good
 
 
Uhh
 
 
Everybody ready?
 
 
Follow me
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you...
say it now
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Just try to release
that pressure
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you...
sing it now
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
And shake till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Ooh... so good
 
 
Huh!
 
 
Whoo-hoo!
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Eew, a stink bomb!
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Dance till you feel better
 
 
Get up offa that thing
 
 
Just try to release
that pressure
 
 
Wait a minute
 
 
Funky
 
 
I need it.
 
 
A crack in the door
 
 
A slit in the vines
 
 
A hole in the fence
 
 
So easy to find
 
 
People doing people things
 
 
Whatever that might be
 
 
They go on
about their business
 
 
Too wrapped up to see
 
 
In the shadows
 
 
My unblinking eye
 
 
I love...
the secretive life
 
 
I hide in the park,
behind a bush
 
 
I see runners and skaters
 
 
And a half naked man
showing off his tattoos
 
 
And I see old Mr. Gray
in his bad toupee
 
 
With some dumb girl
about half his age
 
 
- People doing people things
- Definitely not his wife
 
 
Are calling out to me
 
 
All their grand
and foolish schemes
 
 
It's better than TV
 
 
They're so funny,
I could almost cry
 
 
I love...
the secretive life
 
 
There's Johnny's dad
on his third martini
 
 
And his nose
is getting bigger
 
 
As I watch him through
the kitchen window
 
 
They really oughta
close those blinds
 
 
And under my coat,
I got a microrecorder
 
 
A pad, and a pencil,
and a picture of you
 
 
I can't believe you did that
 
 
I see two love birds
walking by
 
 
With that sick and dreamy
look in their eye
 
 
And there's a big fat cop
with a Magnum mustache
 
 
Trying so hard to look mean
 
 
The secretive life
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Category:Nickelodeon Movies Transcripts