01x04 - Touched By an Angel-a // Puppy Love

[bunniefuu]

♪ My name is Angela

♪ Hey, hello!

♪ Welcome to my very own show ♪

♪ I'll introduce my friends to you ♪

Oh no! It's Ninnypoo!

♪ Shoobee-doobee-doo wap-waa.

♪ My name is Angela

♪ And you are not

♪ Nanette Manoir is a stuck up jerk face snot ♪

And now to today's story, starring me.

And NOT starring Nannete Manoir.

Remember children, stalactites hang tightly

while stalagmites stand mightily.

It is Nature Science.

And me and my friends and some other people I will not

mention, are studying caves.

Ah yes, have you ever seen anything as impressive as

those stalactites?

Uncle Nicky's Eternal Spitball?

Uncle Nicky's Eternal Spitball has been on our

ceiling since before I was even born.

Uncle Nicky used to eat paste,

so it's never coming down.

I hope you're wrong as usual, John.

The sooner that hideous aberration of school

property you and a certain someone call a "spitball"

comes down, the better.

You mean the sooner you're allergic to your own brain,

the better, Nanette Manure.

I heard that Angela.

And you must confess, it wasn't very nice.

That was the point Josephine Praline.

But if you harbor such feelings in your heart,

you'll never be touched by an angel.

And if you're never touched by an angel,

your life will be nothing but trouble.

Sure, Josephine.

Whatever you say.

Hallelujah!

It's a sign from above!

Ewww. It's also disgusting!

I'll say it's disgusting.

And in defiance of school rules as well!

But it's Uncle Nicky's!

Mrs. Brinks: Don't be ridiculous!

Now dispose of your repugnant handiwork at once!

And while the rest of us are re-discovering the joys

of macramé, you will be cleaning erasers - again!

That wouldn't have happened if you had been

touched by an angel.

I wonder if all signs from above come with a mandatory

sentence of eraser clapping.

But it wasn't a sign from above.

It was a sign from a spitball.

It fell on my desk.

It was an accident!

And that was just an accident too!

Whoaaa!

Just an accident!

Angela, there's a footprint on your sandwich!

Accidents happen.

Watch out for the mud puddle!

Ha ha! Almost had an a -

Accident?

What a recess!

If I didn't know better, I'd say I was jinxed!

Josephine: You're not jinxed, Angela Anaconda.

You just need an angel.

Josephine, is that you?

Yes, my child, I am with you.

And your guardian angel would be too if you could

learn to love your enemies.

Oh brother. Not this again.

It's true, Angela.

Unless you're touched by an angel-

I know, my life will be nothing but troub - aaaugh!

What in the name of Lady Godiva??

Angela Anaconda, I'm sure you know what this means.

It's not fair!

Why am I the only one who ever has to clap erasersl?

Huh?!

Did I just see what I think I thought I saw?

Hey Josephine, wait up!

Josephine: If you want to be touched by an angel,

you have to learn to be kind and good.

Angela: I can do that!

You must learn to love your enemies.

No problem!

Even your Nanettes.

Ninnie-Poo!? Oh, brother.

Sorry, not interested!

But if you can't be nice to Nanette,

you'll never be touched by an angel.

Maybe I could just get a rabbit's foot.

Wooahh!

Or not.

You hafta do what?!

You heard me, Johnny Abatti.

I have to be nice to Ninnie-Wart.

Otherwise I'm doomed to a life of trouble my whole life.

An interesting theory, Angela Anaconda.

Perhaps you should start by calling her by her real name?

I can eat and eat and eat and never gain an ounce,

unlike some people I know.

Then again, 'Ninnie-Wart' has a nice ring to it.

Oh poo! Cook forgot to remove the crusts on my cucumber

sandwich again!

You hear that?

Now's my chance!

Hmmm, a stepped-on mayonnaise and jelly

sandwich, with crust.

Umm, mmmmm!

Don't even think about it.

Aaaah. I'm blinded by my lunch!

Here you go, Nanette.

A crust-free lunch just for you.

Spaghetti??

The only pasta that touches my lips is angel hair.

This may not be angel hair, but how about a nice

spaghetti wig!

Well, she started it!

It's raining.

Now my perfect curls will be wilted

like the last rose of summer.

This time try offering her something she wants.

Something she needs.

Like an umbrella, yeah!

Hey Nanette-

Angela Anaconda, you almost put out one of my sparkling eyes!

I was just hoping to save your perfect curls.

And they do so need saving.

Of course, I'd do the same for you if I had an

umbrella, and you had perfect curls.

I'm sure you would, Nanette.

Didn't anyone ever teach you the proper way to hold

an umbrella?

My toes are getting all wet!

Thank you. Now watch and learn.

See?

That's how you hold an umbrella.

That's why I'm dry and you're wet.

"That's why I'm dry and you're wet."

Just kidding.

Toodles, Mummy.

Hi Nanette.

I practiced all night and now I know how to hold an

umbrella just like they do in France

where you are most certainly from.

Well in case you haven't noticed, Angela Anaconda,

it isn't raining.

But what about the sun's harmful rays!

You don't want to get a freckle on account of your

sensitive skin and all!

They're so clean!

I should discipline Miss Anaconda more often.

Nanette: Mrs. Brinks! Mrs. Brinks!

Angela won't stop chasing me with her unruly and rather

pedestrian umbrella!

Angela Anaconda, what has come over you?!

But I was only trying to act nice.

Josephine: Angela, Angela, Angela,

when are you going to learn?

It's not enough to act nice to Nanette,

you have to be nice in your heart.

Are you talking about the same Ninnie- Poo as me?

Don't lose faith, my child.

Here. Make a list of all the things that are nice

about Nanette.

Just find one thing and an Angel will find you.

Okay, but I think that what you're asking for is a miracle.

It's really hard to write lists about nothing and

there is nothing nice about Nanette.

Well, if it isn't Angel-Josephine!

Take my hand, Angela Anaconda,

and together we shall find the Nanette that has been

forgotten: the nice Nanette.

Observe.

Innocence playing.

Angela: I know that's me, but who's THAT?

Josephine: Little Nanette. Isn't she sweet?

Excusez-moi, but I'm afraid this zone has been set aside

for the construction of a new freeway for my Santa

Barbara Susie's new convertible.

She's just a baby.

Ah, here she is.

The merciful and caring Nanette.

What beautiful flowers, Mrs. Moran.

But seeing as they spoil your view of the parking lot,

I'm sure you'd like me to have them.

Fine.

The people in this place, it's always "me, me, me".

Uhhh.

At least she left something?

Look. There's a nice Nanette, innocent in her dreams.

Angela: I bet she snores.

Hello, Nanette, I am an angel.

I don't care if you're Mother Theresa.

You're ruining my beauty sleep.

Now Scoot!

But, I'm here to show Angela-

ANGELA?! That does it, I'm getting security!

Alfredo! Alfredo!

I change my mind.

You were right.

There isn't anything nice about Nanette.

So now I guess I'll never be touched by an angel.

Yes, well, it could be worse.

You could be just like her.

Hmmm. That's true.

At least I'm not like her.

Hey! That's it!

I did it, Josephine! I did it!

I actually found a lot of nice things about Nanette!

I knew you would, my child.

"She's not a twin, she doesn't have a clone,

there's only one of her."

Well, that's not quite what I had in mind, but it'll do.

Does that mean I'll be touched by an angel?

Perhaps you already have been.

[bell rings]

Phew! Ahh.

Today is the day the Brinkses open their pool

for the summer, and we're here in the tree house on account

of we might be able to tell if they are swimming without

clothes like we think.

I think we should eat the cupcakes I brought right now.

'Cause, you know, the sight of the Brinkses naked,

might make us lose our appetites.

I brought allergy-free rice crackers for everyone.

They always settle my stomach.

Shhhh!!!

D'ya see anything?

Nothing yet, but I think I heard something.

Nanette Manoir, what are you doing here?

And why is your gardener attacking our tree?

He's not attacking your precious tree,

Angela Anaconda.

He's putting up a trés important community notice.

My valuable pure-bred French poodle Oo- La-La

has gone missing!

The poor little thing is outside somewhere and he

doesn't even have his booties on!

He could step in dirt!

Booties?!

No wonder he ran away.

He's "Perdu."

Which is French for "Lost," in case you didn't know,

Angela Anaconda.

In case you didn't know, "Scram" is English for

"wish you'd get lost, Nanette Manoir."

Want me to try my special whistle?

[whistles]

Thank you anyway,

but I'm afraid he only responds to the sound

of my melodic voice.

And by now he may have wandered into a really bad

neighborhood!

That's why we're hanging up signs around where you live.

Oh, I'm just so worried about my poor,

defenseless little pup!

Nanette, don't cry.

We'll help you find him.

Johnny, we got special business to do, remember -

"Operation Beached Whale?"

[splash] [distant laughter]

Did you hear that?

That's the sound of blubber hitting water!

I hope they're wearing good sunscreen.

Come on Angela, what if your dog was missing, huh?

My dog wouldn't run away.

My dog is loyal.

By the way, my father is offering a two hundred

dollar rewardó_for whoever finds my Oo-La-La.

Let's go. -Count me in!

Here doggie, doggie, doggie!

Well, I guess the Brinkses will still be naked tomorrow.

Come on! Let's go find that poodle!

Come on doggie! Where are you?

Ow!

Oof!

[giggling]

Ooh! Ahh!

I can't believe that we wasted a whole day trying to

find a dog that we couldn't find!

Yeah, no reward money and no bare Brinkses!

And none of your cupcakes, either.

And all because of Nanette "ruin-our- day" Manoir.

"My poor little doggie is wandering around

without his booties- "

[barking]

In MY backyard!

I'm rich! I'm rich!

C'mon Oo-La-Blah.

I want my two hundred dollars,

and you want to go home. Right?

Okay then, maybe you'll understand this.

Comenvous with moi, blah blah blah.

I know, let's play a game.

No dog can resist the rope!

That's it! Just hold on and follow me!

Fine.

Stay here with King- if King can stand it.

I'll go get your unfortunate owner.

[doorbell rings]

Nanette: Just leave the quiche on the porch

and charge it to my tab.

Angela? Since when do you work for Chez Poulet?

I don't.

And I'm not delivering your dinner.

I'm delivering your precious little poodly-thing.

Really? I don't see my dog.

That's 'cause he's at my house.

Oh, please.

My dog would sooner visit the city dump than visit

your house.

Not that there's much of a distinction.

Two hundred dollars... two hundred dollars...

two hundred dollars...

I heard that!

You should be ashamed of yourself, Angela Anaconda.

Showing up here trying to cheat me out of the reward

while my poor Oo-La-La's still out there somewhere,

lost, alone, and booty-less.

Eughh!

But that's what I'm trying to tell you.

He's not LOST!

I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to take advantage

of me in my time of deep despair.

I'll show you deep despair.

I heard that, Angela!

Now kindly leave before I call security.

Okay, what we need is proof that Oo-La La-De-Da

is in my backyard.

I hope this doesn't involve a pooper- scooper.

Here, look.

Well what are you waiting for, Johnny?

Start snapping!

I get it.

Provide Nanette with photographic evidence,

and she'll have to give you your reward money.

We could just take a picture.

Are you sure we're not gonna get in trouble for spying

on them?

Gordy, they're just dogs.

They have no constitutional right to privacy.

That oughta do it.

I don't think they were smiling,

but Oo-La-La was sure wagging his tail, you know?!?

I wonder what Nanette's gonna say when she sees these.

[SQUEAL OF HORROR]

My eyes!

Curse my eyes!

Wait - there's more!

What is it, Princess?

Yes, tell Mummy and Daddy.

She dognapped my poodle and now she's trying to

blackmail me!

Look - there are the photos for proof!

But I wasn't blackmailing!

I don't even know what that means.

Angela Anaconda, I thought you were my friend!

But I found your dog!

I only took the photos on account of she wouldn't

believe me!

Oh Mummy, Daddy, now she's calling me a liar!

There, there, Baby Doll.

Tell Mummy how to make her little Peach feel all better.

You name it. Anything.

Oh, I don't need anything, but you could make a

donation to my favorite charity -

the Orphan Children's Decoupage Fund.

Father: That's my girl. Always putting others first.

Huh?!?

But wouldn't you rather have that pretty little frock we

saw in the window of Le Chic Boutique?

Say!

We could use the reward money to buy it for you!

Kay.

Angela! Angela! Angela!

And don't forget to send someone to rescue my poor,

precious Oo-La-La.

Of course, Pumpkin. Right away.

Alfredo! To the Anaconda's!

Chop, chop!

And be sure to bring plenty of disinfectant with you!

Au revoir, Angela Anaconda - which is French for "Go home!"

Look on the bright side, girl- you won't have to

hang out with that snobby dog anymore.

King, no!

Come back!

Come back!

Wait! King!

Come back!

Noooooo!

Uh oh!

I remember when first we met.

It was love at first sight.

You were always there for me,

in good times and bad.

You always played fair.

Hey, what's she doing here?

Get lost, Ninnie-Poo!

We don't want to play with you!

Or at least I thought so.

Maybe it's better this way, my former best friend.

Maybe you were meant for the snooty life.

All I want is for you to be happy.

Even if it's not with me.

I just can't leave without one last goodbye.

Oo-La-La dear, to celebrate your return,

I had Cook whip up your favorite - a cheese and

asparagus soufflé.

Made with Roquefort. That's French for -

Cheese that smells like shoes.

'Bye King, it was great knowing you, girl.

Ah! What are you doing here?!

Mummy! Daddy!

That mangy mutt is in my house!

No! No! No! Eating off the floor?!

He learned this from you, you insufferable mongrel!

Ahh!

KING! You've come back!

C'mon girl, let's go home!

Mother: Howell! Call the fumigators!

We have fleas!