14x04 - Falafelosophy/The Great Lint Rush

[bunniefuu]

♪ Every day, when you're
walking down the street ♪

♪ Everybody that you meet
has an original point of view ♪

(laughing)

♪ And I say, hey ♪

Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪

♪ If we could learn
to work and play ♪

♪ And get along
with each other ♪

♪ You got to listen to
your heart, listen to the beat ♪

♪ Listen to the rhythm,
the rhythm of the street ♪

♪ Open up your eyes,
open up your ears ♪

♪ Get together and make things
better by working together ♪

♪ It's a simple message,
and it comes from the heart ♪

♪ Believe in yourself ♪ ♪

Believe in yourself ♪

♪ For that's the place
to start ♪

♪ Place to start ♪

♪ And I say, hey ♪

Hey!

Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪

♪ If we can learn to work
and play ♪

♪ And get along
with each other ♪

Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪

Hey!

♪ What a wonderful kind
of day ♪

Hey!

ARTHUR (on TV):
Hey, D.W.!

Hey!

Whoa!

(loud thud)

(letters shattering)

(applause, Pal barks)

Thank you, thank you.

Isn't it great
to be appreciated?

But a lot of big achievements
didn't get a round of applause

when people first found out
about them.

Like Galileo.

His revolutionary ideas got
him into a lot of trouble.

The Sun does not revolve
around the Earth.

Rather, the Earth revolves
around the Sun.

Ha! That's ridiculous!

Everyone knows that everything
revolves around me.

Take him away!

(gasps)

Even the composer
Ludwig van Beethoven

wasn't a huge success
right away.

One teacher thought
he was a hopeless case.

(playing opening notes
of Fifth Symphony)

D.W.:
Stop, stop, stop!

It's terrible.

You should quit now.

Take up another instrument--

something easy,
like the harmonica.

Better yet, don't be a musician.

Maybe you could become
a worm picker.

Oh, and there are no refunds
for this lesson.

Pay at the front desk.

And there are
other famous people

who had tough starts, like...

Here. I'm giving you
half a star

for the opening
of this show.

One star is usually
the lowest you can get,

but I made an exception.

You're wrong.

This opening was great.

But the show will be
even better.

I promise.

Oh, just start it already.

NEIL GAIMAN:
"What you seek will be found.

"Trust ghosts.

"Trust those that
you have helped

"to help you in their turn.

"Trust dreams.

Trust your heart
and trust your story."

He writes novels and comics
and movies and poetry.

Is there anything that
Neil Gaiman doesn't write?

I've never written a cookbook.

Hmm. Might be fun to try.

Oh! (giggles)

Sorry.

Not to worry.

What's your name?

Sue Ellen.

Are you a writer, Sue Ellen?

Um, well, kind of.

I keep a journal, and there are
some stories in there.

But I really like drawing
and doodling, too.

So... I don't know
what that makes me.

It makes you very creative.

Ever try your hand
at a graphic novel?

No.

What's a "graphic novel"?

It's a novel told with pictures.

Or a comic book with a longer
story, if you like.

Here's one that was adapted
from my book Coraline.

It might inspire you.

Thanks.

NEIL:
No, no.

It's on the house.

When your graphic novel
gets published,

you can give me a free copy.

Deal?

Deal!

Freaky, but cool.

"Sue Ellen's Graphic Novel."

(yawns)

It is the roundness
of the falafel,

of the pita,

of the planet.

Roundness is wholeness.

Wholeness is oneness.

You understand, yes?

Uh, yeah, sure.

BINKY:
Could I have hot sauce
with that?

No! White sauce
is better for you.

You have too much
fire in blood.

Mmm! Perfect!

Huh...

Maybe I do have

too much fire in blood.

SUE ELLEN:
Hi, Mr. Contabulous.

One with everything, please.

Is true.

We are all one
with everything.

No, I meant...

But everyone is different also.

There is pita people.

There is pizza people.

Pita people-- round, like pita.

Pizza people--
very pointy.

Always must make point.

Round people
and pointy people.

This I call "Falafelosophy."

You understand?

Not really, but I like it.

SUE ELLEN:
What if there was a world

filled with only circles
and triangles?

CIRCLES:
Ow!

(laughing)

And then...

Oh, this is silly!

NEIL:
I was quite
enjoying it, actually.

Neil Gaiman?!

What are you doing
in my falafel?

Oh, I'm not Neil Gaiman.

I mean, well... I am.

But I'm your Neil Gaiman.

I'm your inner Neil,
as it were.

I still don't get it.

Well, this is a fantasy.

Here, this'll help.

Cue special effects!

There-- much clearer.

NEIL:
Don't judge your story.

You've just started it.

I know, but...

circles and triangles?

Who's going to like that?

You never know.

You can't assume your
audience are all squares.

(chuckles)

Okay, scrap that joke.

Bit before your time.

Anyway, trust your heart.

Trust your story.

Okay, I'll give it a shot.

Mmm... delicious!

SUE ELLEN:
Once upon a place,
there was a happy time

when happy circles spun
endlessly and beginninglessly.

And there was no circle
more circular than...

The Great Contabulous!

Falafelosophy!

SMALL CIRCLES:
Ooh!

Nearby, the triangles gathered
to argue their points.

Pointa-pointa-pointa point!

Point?!

Pointa, pointa!

Pointa, pointa!

(all arguing)

They were so consumed
with their arguing

that they had never noticed
their circular neighbors,

until Triangulops dropped in.

Pointa!

The triangles finally
found something

they could all agree on:
Circles didn't have any points.

They just circulated.

And that really annoyed
the triangles.

Point! Point! Point...

The circles and the triangles
didn't know it yet,

but soon they would be
engaged in great battle,

the Battle of the Shapes.

FRANCINE:
I don't get it.

SUE ELLEN:
Well, it's just
the first chapter.

See, I wanted my graphic novel
to be really simple, but...

"Graphic novel"?

What's that?

A novel with graphs?

MUFFY:
It doesn't sound
very marketable.

A graphic novel is
a narrative work

where the story is largely
conveyed to the reader

with pictures.

It still doesn't sound
very marketable.

But who are the circles?

Am I a circle?

Actually, you're more
of a triangle.

Now, Buster-- he's a circle.

That is so untrue!

I'm very circular.

How could you think
I'm a triangle?

For the record,

I refuse to be categorized
by a geometric shape.

MUFFY:
I'm sorry,

but we can't publish this.

I didn't ask you
to publish it.

I just asked you to read it.

Do you think
I'm a triangle?

Oh, please.

You're the pointiest
person I know.

(Neil clears his throat)

I hate to disturb you, but
your smoothie is getting warm.

You don't want to be stuck
with a warm smoothie.

It's like drinking
fruity bath water.

I'm not thirsty.

Look, writing
can't just be

about pleasing
other people.

You've got a story to tell,

and you're the only one
who can tell it.

I know.

But I want them to like it.

Of course you do.

But sometimes
it takes a while

for people to appreciate
something new.

Don't give up.

Thanks, Inner Neil.

(slurping)

SUE ELLEN:
On a night with no moon,

the triangles kidnapped
the Great Contabulous.

Point, point, point,
point, point!

Point, point, point!

Chapter Six.

Despite all the pointing
done by the Triangulops,

the Great Contabulous
would still not deny

his circularity.

The moon reminded him

that much in the universe
was round,

and if triangles
ever came together,

they too could form a pie.

The battle was in full swing.

The triangles charged
at the circles.

The circles bounced
on the triangles.

MR. CONTABULOUS:
Hey, Shakespeare!

Be in moment,
not in book.

Oh, sorry.

I was just finishing a chapter.

Glad to see
you're still writing.

You're very big today.

Shouldn't you be in my falafel,
or cereal, or something?

(gasps)

You're the real Neil!

It depends on what
you mean by "real,"

but yes, according
to my passport,

I am almost
definitely Neil Gaiman.

How's the book coming?

Great!

Actually, terrible.

Do you have five minutes?

Here! With extra
hot sauce.

Your blood is cold.

Now I'm up to Chapter Eight,

where it looks like the
triangles have won the battle,

and I really like it, but no
one else will understand it.

I think it sounds great.

Can I take a look at it?

Really? Would you?

I'd love...

Wait, where is it?

(gasps)

I left it at the falafel truck!

You can't just abandon
your falafel like that.

Sue Ellen!

I give book to your friends:
rich one, bossy one

and big head.

Pizza people.

They go that way.

Go after her.

She is great writer
of Falafelosophy.

Wait.

You need more fire.

Go! Go!

I'm too late.

They read it, and they
obviously think it's terrible.

FRANCINE:
You're completely wrong.

The triangles are the ones

who get things done
in the world.

But they have
a narrow point of view.

See, that's the whole metaphor.

I'm seeing a D movie.

We need a good British actor
for evil Triangulops.

He's not evil.

He's misunderstood.

Your friends don't think
it's terrible.

They may
or may not understand it,

but they certainly think
it's interesting.

They do?

FRANCINE:
You know what I want to know?

What happens next.

Ah!

The three magic words that every
writer always wants to hear,

"What happens next?"

I think you'll be giving me
that free book someday.

SUE ELLEN:
And the triangles learned
that they needed circles

to remind them of wholeness.

And the circles learned
that they needed triangles

to remind them of pointiness.

And they all lived happily
ever before,

which is the same as after,
just in reverse.

And now...

STUDENT:
This is my fourth-grade class

and we have all made
graphic novels.

A graphic novel is pictures
and words that are combined

to make a story.

First we made our own
graphic novels in pencil.

The title of my graphic novel
is "Snakeshark."

"I'm swimming!"

All of a sudden,
he sees a snakeshark.

"Oh, snack!"

A snakeshark is a shark
and a snake combined.

And then at the end,
they make good friends.

"Whoo-Hooo!"

My story's about a girl
when she went to the pet store.

And she wanted to get a dog
because it was

the only one left.

"Mom, can't I get him?"

"No!"

"Please?"

Finally her mom said yes,
she could get him.

"Thank you!"

"Ruff, ruff!"

The picture tells the actions,

and the words just say what
the character is thinking

or what the character is saying.

I think that you didn't really
need to have words in a story.

The title of my graphic novel
is "Dynamite Fishing."

The picture tells
most of the story.

Pht... pow... poom!

This is Justin's graphic novel.

It's called "The Burrito."

"Wow! Too Spicy!"

When he ate it,
it was too spicy.

The fire power burned the king.

And then we worked in groups
to make our own in color.

"Let's go get the golden fish."

"Yeah, right. As if they're
going to get me."

"Ahhh!"

"Never play
with the golden fish!"

"Did he just talk?"

The title of this graphic novel
is "Going Camping."

"Is camp going to be fun?

Or are people going
to make fun of me?"

The graphic novels
can also send messages,

more than just being a story.

"Do you want to be friends?"

"Sure. You're my best friend."

"Thanks."

What's good about it is that you
could take a new, fresh idea

right off your mind and turn it
into a really good story.

And now...

Huh?

All right, mister,
very funny.

Give them back.

Give what back?

You know what.

You stole my socks.

Probably to make a sweater
for your Moronic Bunny doll.

I did not!

In fact, I was just going
to ask you.

Have either of you
seen my socks?

(gasps)
Yours are gone, too?

Quick! Call the feet police!

There's a bootee burglar
on the loose!

Everyone hide your shoes!

He'll be after those next!

Relax.

I'm sure there's a perfectly
logical explanation.

Like what?

I don't know.

(grunting and groaning)

(Pal panting)

I brought everything
I could find.

Is the market still open?

It just closed.

I'm afraid we're too late.

We couldn't stop him.

That greedy amphibian
bought up every single sock.

The sock market has crashed,

and now anybody who wants
a sock has to go to Mr. Toad.

(laughing evilly)

They said I was just a tadpole.

Well, I showed them!

I beat 'em at their own game.

From now on, we're playing
Mr. Toad's game.

(laughing evilly)

(howling)

Come on, Hans!

Move those stubby little legs.

I've got a tree to redecorate.

Mush! Mush!

What will this mean for pets
and their families?

AMIGO:
I'm not sure,

but it's probably not good.

Let's ask the chairpet
of the Footwear Reserve,

Ben St. Bernardky.

Hmm, could be a repeat

of the Great Chilly Toes Scare.

¡Icanastos!

When I was a puppy,
my great-grandpa told me

about the Great Chilly Toes
Scare of .

It affected the entire world.

Socks became very expensive.

Many people could not afford
to buy them.

So they got blisters
and were cranky.

And their feet smelled
terribly.

Normally, smelly feet are
not a problem for dogs.

We enjoy them,
like a ripe Camembert.

(sniffing)

But even a dog
has his limits.

(howling)

Also, because times were
tough, there was no bacon.

Stop! Stop!

It's too terrible!

We must find a way

to get some of those socks
back from Mr. Toad.

But how?

There's someone who might
be able to help us.

TOADY:
We're rich,

but I never get to see him.

With Toad, it's always
work, work, work.

Bring the sock
into the shade, Alphonse.

All this sun dries me out.

(Toady sighs)

Sometimes I miss the days
when I was just D.W.'s pet.

But can you help us?

If we can't convince Mr. Toad

to give back
some of those socks,

it could be bad for everyone.

Toad doesn't listen to me
when it comes to business.

But I promise I'll get
him to meet with you.

Maybe you can convince him.

Well, it's been nice chatting,
but I've got to go.

We're having the Turtlemans
over for dinner

and I have to pick up
the slugs.

Toady said it was a big tree
by the edge of the pond.

Now I wonder which one
it could...

Oh... Found it.

Yeah?

I have an appointment
to see Mr. Toad.

Name?

Pal. Pal Read.

Wait here.

Sorry. You're not
on the list.

But I have an appointment!

His wife, Toady, assured me
that he would see me today.

(groans)

Wait here.

Sorry. You're still
not on the list.

Fine.

Then I will wait right here
until Mr. Toad sees me.

I also just might mark

this territory.

Okay, okay!
You're on the list.

Follow me.

(elevator bell dings)

(rat squeaking)

(elevator bell dings)

Uh, Mr. Toad,
sorry to disturb you, but...

Hey! Who let you in?

Security!

Wait! I'm Pal Read.

Toady said I could see you.

I remember you.

Friend of the baby.

Liked hotdogs.

What do you want?

You got two minutes.

Well, uh, in the interest of
preventing a Chilly Toes Scare,

my colleagues and I feel
you should give back

some of the socks
you bought, and...

Not a chance.

But it's
the right thing to do.

Right, shmight.

Listen, puppy,
it's a jungle out there--

well, maybe it's not a jungle,
but it is a marsh--

and the law of the marsh is:

take as much as you can,
whenever you can.

Now, if you ask me to loan
you a sock, that's different.

Okay.

When would I have
to give it back?

In a week.

Along with ten other socks.

That's ridiculous!

What makes you think
I would ever agree

to such a terrible deal?

What if I throw in
a few wieners?

Oh... you're a cold-blooded
creature, Mr. Toad.

So? How did it go?

(spits)

It wasn't a complete loss.

One sock?

That's all you got back?

Er, not exactly.

This one is on loan.

I have to pay
Mr. Toad back ten socks

by the end of the week.

Ten socks?

We don't have ten socks.

What happens
if we don't pay him?

Well, I think I may have
promised him this house.

He said something
about a toad colony

that he wanted to rent it to.

Pal!

It all happened so fast.

Oh, Kate!

I'm a terrible business-dog.

I've ruined us again.

Don't worry, Pal.

(sobbing)

We'll think of something.

(croaks)

(screams)

Dad! Arthur put a frog
in my slippers!

ARTHUR:
I did not!

D.W.:
Then how did it get there?

ARTHUR:
I don't know.

(sighs)

Never a dull moment.

(croaks)

(screams)

(mug shatters on floor)

But it hasn't been a week yet.

Those toads have no right
to be in there.

Relax.

They're just looking around.

And besides, you and I both know

you won't be able
to pay me back.

The lily pond
will go here, Hans.

Make a note of it.

You don't know that.

Pal and I have a plan.

(chuckling):
Sure you do.

But a deal's a deal,

and unless you give me
ten woolly ones by Friday,

the bullfrogs are comin' in.

So, what's the plan?

I was bluffing.

Oh, dear.

If only we had something
Mr. Toad wanted.

That would give us an edge.

But he already
has everything.

We'd have to create something
he doesn't have and then...

Wait a minute.

That's not such a bad idea.

PAL:
See, then when everyone
else has this new thing,

Mr. Toad won't be able
to resist.

He'll be just like I was with
those wieners the other day.

What wieners?

(gulps)

It's not important.

The point is,
if we can make it seem

like we have something valuable,

then I bet we can get
some of those socks back.

I like it.

But what's... the thing?

Ham bones?

No, it has to be something
we can get a lot of.

And frankly, I'd rather have
a ham bone than a sock.

What about sticks?

There are plenty of those.

True.

But Mr. Toad lives
near the woods.

He can get all
the sticks he wants.

I can't think
on an empty stomach.

Why aren't there
any crumbs here?

It's just... (spits)

Lint!

k*ller:
Why do you want me
to have this lint?

I don't like lint.

It makes my tongue itch.

You don't have to like it.

You just have to pretend
to like it.

It's all so we can open up
the sock market again

and prevent a Chilly Toes Scare.

I keep my socks
under a pillow.

And whose toes are chilly?

Mine aren't chilly.

Hers aren't chilly.

It's boiling in the house!

Look, if you help us,
I promise... to play with you.

(barking excitedly)

But you have to spread the word:
Everyone loves lint.

You betcha!

It's a deal.

CAT:
I use lint as a hat
and my pillow!

Me too!

It's so much softer
than a sock.

Now, this is pashmina lint--

the best.

Don't tell anyone,

but I can get you some
for half-price.

Why don't we have any lint?

The Salamanderos have lint,
the Fiddleheads have lint.

Why don't we have any?

Lint is worthless.

It's not something real,
like socks.

Well, I sat on some at the
salon and it was very soft.

That's all I'm saying.

(squirrel chittering)

What is that?

A lint beret?

Let me see that.

Puh!

Shoddy material.

Falls apart
with the slightest pressure.

Mmm. But it does smell nice.

And it is soft.

Hmm...

PAL:
Today's the day, and
I don't have ten socks!

How will Arthur get
any homework done

with a house full of toads?

Just stick to the plan, Pal.

Here he comes now.

Well, where's
the wool, puppy?

You were right.

I can't pay you back.

The house is yours.

Come on, Kate, let's go
pack up the lint.

Hold on a second.

You've got lint?

Tons of it.

In fact, we were thinking

of trading in some of it
for a bigger house.

You know how it is.

PAL:
Everyone just seems
to love lint these days.

I want it!

I want all of it.

Every last piece you've got.

I'll give you anything.
Anything!

Just give me that lint!

(bell dings)

(animals all squawking
and barking busily)

PAL:
When do you think Mr. Toad
will discover

that his lint is worthless?

Who's to say
it's worthless?

I mean, lint is soft,
and it does smell nice.

Maybe Mr. Toad will be
very happy with his lint.

Very true, Amigo.

One creature's lint
is another's sock.

Unless, of course,
your lint gets wet.

Oh, sì!

Then it is
completely worthless.

Niente. Nada.

Garbage.

(thunder)

You can find Arthur books
and lots of other books, too,

at your local library.

♪ What a wonderful kind of day ♪

♪ Hey! ♪

♪ What a wonderful kind
of day ♪

♪ Hey! ♪