03x10 - Rupert and the Bell

[bunniefuu]

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Yahoo!

Whee!

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Very fancy, Rupert.

Now let's see you do a barrel roll.

One barrel roll coming up.

That's strange.

You're losing control.

(Both screaming)

Rupert, what are you doing? It'll crash!

I-- I've forgotten how to fly it.

What? Well, then bring it down.

(Gasping)

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Go away! Help!

Whoa! Oof!

Whoa!

I've seen better landings.

Terribly sorry. Here, let me help.

No need. Must run. Ta-ta.

You forgot these.

Hm, that's strange.

Hello?

Is anyone home?

Enter.

Hello, professor.

Your guest dropped these on his way out.

I'm afraid we gave him a fright.

He's brought down one side of your tent.

What guest? What tent?

But-- But he just left.

By George, there is a tent in my garden.

Wonder why.

RUPERTPerhaps this is a clue.

"You are cordially invited to the annual symposium

of scientists, inventors and gadgeteers.

With warmest regards, your host for this year, the Professor."

A symposium? And I'm the host?

Oh, dear. It seems to have completely slipped my mind.

I'm not the only one forgetting things.

These papers are mine.

Look here. "Plans for the Boolean box."

This is your photo album, professor.

Now why would--? Look!

You've written his name beside his photograph.

Dennis Finch.

That's the fellow who was just here.

Dennis who?

A morning full of mysteries.

I have absolutely no recollection

of this fellow at all.

I think we've got two mysteries solved.

The tent is for the symposium,

and this must be the Boolean box.

Whatever that is.

Just been wondering that myself.

I have a vague idea it has something to do

with Boolean algebra and sub-dimensional vortices.

But apart from that, I can't remember a thing.

There's only one way to find out what it does.

Nothing in here but a mirror.

Let's turn on the light.

(Electricity crackling)

Whoa!

My word! Bill!

(Grunting)

He's gone.

BILLI'm gone?

Where have I gone?

Are you all right, Bill?

I...I suppose so.

Apart from feeling a little flat and a bit reflective.

Fascinating.

The box appears to be some sort of matter compactor.

We've got to reverse the process.

(Electricity crackling) (Gasping)

BOTHWhoa!

My word. Sabotage.

First my memory and now the Boolean box.

Hello, I was wondering,

is this my house, by any chance?

Oh, no. Not you too, Edward.

PROFESSORWhat a delightful little village.

Nutwood, you say?

Is that where I live? No.

Further on. I think.

Forgetting seems to be epidemic.

BILLHe's right, you know.

What if the professor never remembers

how to cure my condition?

What if you forget I'm stuck in this mirror?

Don't worry, Bill. I'm making a list.

And number one isSave Bill.

There's another drawback to living in a mirror:

Everything is backwards. What's that last line say?

"See the wise old goat."

If anyone knows what's going on in Nutwood, he does.

If he hasn't forgotten.


There you are, Edward. Home.

Thanks, stranger.

Mother?

GOATI suggest you visit

the memory bank.

I'm sure the teller can straighten this out.

The memory bank?

It is the secret place where everyone's memories are stored.

Normally, nothing is lost or forgotten.

Although sometimes a memory can be misplaced.

Like when I forget where I've left my slippers?

GOATExactly.

Then your mother says,

"They are under the bed."

And why does she know this thing?

Because mothers know everything.

Ha-ha. That too.

But sometimes your memory

has been accidentally filed in her account.

So everyone is forgetting

because their memory accounts have been misplaced?

That would seem to be the only possible explanation.

How do we find the memory bank?

Come.

Down there, you will find a secret underground station.

Take the M train.

Don't forget, M for "memory bank."

Thank you. We won't.

I hope this teller fellow

can sort out your memory file, professor.

You'd better jot that down, Rupert.

"Ask teller about memory file."

♪ Interositer connected to the electrosome ♪

♪ Electrosome's connected to the...flange? ♪

♪ And the flange is connected to the... ♪

Drat. What is it connected to?

Back to the old memory file.

Ah, what's this?

A new memory.

"M for 'memory bank.' Ask teller about file"?

So even with his memory all messed up,

the smarty-pants professor is still on my trail.

Well, time to throw the old fox off the scent.

(Laughing)

Hm. (Bicycle bell ringing)

Clear the way! Police emergency!

Look out! (Crashing)

Oh, dear.

Are you all right, Constable Growler?

Strange. I thought you never forgot how to ride a bike.

We haven't forgotten the way, have we?

I don't see how.

We never knew the way to begin with.

Good point.

(Chuckling)

This looks like a secret station if ever I saw one.

M for "memory."

(Grunting)

A self-drive tram car.

How novel. Looks easy enough.

Forwards and backwards.

Unless you forget.

All aboard!

(Bell clanging)

(Dennis snickering)

More like all overboard.

(Laughing)

And all my troubles just wash away.

We should have brought our slickers.

And Dennis Finch passes on the inside.

What a race, ladies and gentlemen.

(Chuckling)

Man the lifeboats!

I get the feeling someone doesn't want us

to reach the memory bank.

"Revel llup"...

Oh, Rupert. Over your head.

Pull the lever.

RUPERT"Pull lever in case of tunnel flooding."

Well spotted, Bill.

Thanks. I think I'm getting the hang

of reading backwards and inside out.

Ah, the professor always was the lucky one.

(Brakes squealing)

RUPERTMemory Bank Station.

All out for Memory Bank Station.

My word. It is grand.

Welcome to the memory bank. Do you have an account with us?

Of course you do. Everybody does. Silly me.

Deposit or withdrawal?

An inquiry, actually.

We're looking for a lost memory.

Mine, to be precise.

The whole village of Nutwood, to be more precise.

Oh, quite right, Bill. I'd forgotten.

What? But that's impossible.

Now, we do make the odd slip.

You know, misfile the car-key memory,

your second cousin's birthday,

dentist appointments, math homework.


But whole chunks of memory for an entire village?

Oh, never.

The memory bank examiner was here only last week.

Everything was in perfect order.

All the memories of everyone everywhere.

Rather impressive, don't you think?

Very.

I believe the Nutwood files are a quarter of a mile down.

Top shelf.

Here we are. The Nutwood drawer.

As you can see, everything is tip-top and--

Oh, good gracious. They've gone.

Nothing here but--

Oh, this is one of yours, Rupert.

A reminder to be home in time for supper...

a year ago last Tuesday.

I don't understand.

The vault is impregnable.

Who could have done this?

What about your bank examiner?

Dennis? Oh I don't think so.

Dennis? Dennis Finch?

You know him, then?

I would if I could remember him.

If you see what I mean.

Oh, my! This is all rather a conundrum, isn't it?

DENNISI thought that solving problems

was your specialty, professor.

Here. This should improve your memory.

He's going to lock us in.

Yes, I am. Don't worry, professor.

Our invention will live on.

But the Boolean box will be all mine.

Oh, my. (Laughing)

Mine!

Oh, no!

It's locked.

We're sealed in!

I'll be the most famous inventor ever.

And you can take that to the bank.

(Laughing)

Hoo-ha!

(Pounding on door)

PROFESSORYoo-hoo.

Anyone out there?

Nothing.

We'll never escape.

Trapped in my own vault.

Not to worry. Rupert and I have got out of tighter spots.

Mind you, I can't recall any at the moment.

If we could reach the lock mechanism,

we could dial the combination from this side.

PROFESSORExcellent.

At least now I know what this is all about.

This page from my memory file explains it.

Poor old Dennis.

What about poor old Dennis?

Years ago, he and I began work on the Boolean box:

The ultimate storage cupboard.

Except we could never make it work and Dennis lost interest.

Dropped the inventing game and took up a clerical position.

He was just recently appointed memory bank examiner.

Meanwhile, I kept at it,

and finally came up with a working model

of the Boolean box.

Yes, I noticed.

When I notified Dennis of the news,

he took it quite the wrong way.

Flew off the handle.

Accused me of stealing his idea.

(Both grunting) Now he's stolen all mine.

A bit of an overreaction, if you ask me.

And as a memory bank examiner,

he was in the perfect position to make you forget all about

the Boolean box and everything else about him.

But you remember now.

So you can turn me back to a three-dimensional Bill.

Sorry, Bill.

I think Dennis still has that particular memory.

Yes, there's the combination thingimmy.

I think you can reach it, Rupert.

Down and to the right a bit.

RUPERTFound it.

Now let's have the combination.

Right. It's, uh...

I can't remember it.

That dastardly fiend's been into my file too.

Ooh! Ooh!

Now I remember why I quit science.

Too dratted dangerous.

All right, professor, old partner.

Nearly finished.

What's next?

(Screaming)

(Indistinct chattering)

(Playing off-key)

What's this all for, anyway?

The professor's science symposium.

This is the "Meet the Scientist Picnic and Gala Entertainment."

I don't call this entertainment.


I seem to have forgotten the filling

for these sandwiches, dear.

I thought they were a little bland.

And there's another thing:

I have the feeling there should be three of us.

Excuse me, make way, genius coming through.

Yoo-hoo. Lilly.

I've finally remembered, after all these years.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.

Anniversary? Who are you, anyway?

BILLYou will be careful.

If I break, it's seven years bad luck.

At the very least.

I'll be careful.

You say it's feet to your desk?

Yes. And the combination is written

on a piece of tape stuck under my chair.

The clever devil Dennis Finch took his own file too.

All I can tell you is his address.

Tumbledown Cottage, Pimsley Vale.

Write that down, would you, Rupert?

I calculate you need a force of three Newtons, Rupert.

A medium-hard skittle push.

Good thing I haven't forgotten my basic physics.

(Chuckling)

Whoa!

Good shot, Rupert.

I see it.

The combination is left-,

right-, left-.

Freedom.

Oh, sweet, sweet freedom.

You're quite useful as a mirror, Bill.

Are you sure you want to go back to normal?

BILLOh, ha-ha.

Track down Dennis Finch.

Recover files.

Return them to the memory bank.

And save Bill.

RUPERTSave Bill.

I'll be coming along, if you don't mind.

After all, the memory files are my responsibility.

PROFESSORGlad to have you.

It's just a matter of getting to Pimsley Vale now.

Here we are.

Tumbledown Cottage, Pimsley Vale.

Are there secret-station entrances everywhere?

Oh, absolutely. Everywhere.

You just have to know where to look.

(Knocking)

PROFESSORDennis. Open up.

Hello. Anyone home?

Here they are. Nutwood's memory files.

Goodness, what a mess.

It's ghastly.

People in Nutwood must be forgetting things

all over the place. Not to worry.

I'll have these sorted and refilled in the memory bank

before you can say tickety-boo.

It looks like Dennis was building his own Boolean box

from my stolen memory.

Obviously he intends to unveil it

at my symposium and claim the credit.

Then he can turn me back to normal.

What if he turns it on?

Oh, dear. We can't have that.

He doesn't know how dangerous the Boolean box can be.

DENNISGather round.

Invention of the decade.

Right here. It's mine. I invented it.

And it's my very own idea.

No one helped me in any way.

What is it called?

The Boolean box.

Very catchy. What does it do?

Well, it-- It sort of, you know, compresses things.

So does a flat rock.

No, no, wait. It's far more advanced than a flat rock.

It marks my triumphant re-entry into the world of inventing.

Watch.

(Machinery whirring)

DENNISAs you can see,

it makes interesting sounds.

Lots of nice lights and things.

Now look inside.

(Both screaming)

(Screaming)

Help!

PROFESSORMy word. RUPERTOh, my gosh.

Whoa! Professor!

We've only moments before we all end up like Bill.

We have to run it off.

Please, professor. You've got to remember.

Let me think.

BILLRupert!

I'm right behind you, Bill.

Help! (Grunting)

Uh-oh.

Oof!

Think, professor. Think!


There. A place for everything,

and everything in its place.

Ah-ha! I remember how to turn it off.

The blue button on the side of the box, Rupert.

The blue button.

(Screaming)

Oof!

Well done, Rupert.

Are you all right, Bill?

BILLFine.

But that was nearly a shattering experience.

(Laughing) DENNISI say, what's going on?

MANFinch, you are in trouble.

DENNISGet us out of here.

(Playing in key)

It's not like Rupert to miss a picnic.

I'm sure he has a good reason, dear.

Oh, Cedric, they're lovely.

(Bicycle bell dinging)

BILLRupert, remember item number one

on the top of your list?

It went something like, "Save Bill."

Sorry, Bill. You're next.

(Machinery whirring) Abracadabra.

(Laughing)

BILLOh, this is much better.

Welcome back, Bill.

It was a bit cramped in that mirror.

I do have a suggestion for the Boolean box, professor.

Yes?

Install a full-length mirror.

Whatever made you invent such an infernal, dangerous device?

I can't take all the credit.

It was a team effort,

right, professor?

Well, yes,

before one of us decided to take all the credit.

But not all the blame, eh?

(Chuckling)

What say we put all this behind us, old bean?

Let's just forget it.

You know and I know I've been wasting my time.

Memory bank examining just isn't me.

I'm returning to the wonderful world of inventing, full-time.

I've got a couple of notions we might work on together.

Just like the good old days.

(Electricity crackling)

What do you say, old fellow?

I believe it may be best for all concerned

if we consider your earlier suggestion.

Yes, yes, what's that?

Well, to use your very words, Dennis,

"Let's just forget it."

And let's not forget that you have a bank robbery

to atone for, Mr. Finch.

MRS. BEARThat was a lovely afternoon.

MR. BEARYes, those scientists

know how to throw a garden party.

Hello, Mom. Dad.

Rupert. What happened to you?

We missed you at the picnic.

Sorry, Mom. I was a little busy.

It just slipped my mind.

Rupert Bear, you'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on.

(Laughing)

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