02x10 - Harriet the Writer

[bunniefuu]

After everything went kablooey
at the trial,

I couldn't sleep.

I felt too ashamed.

The raw onion I ate didn't help.

So, before the sun came up,
I decided to go outside

and take my first look
at the fall harvest moon.

Every year, I make a wish
on that wild, orange moon.

None of them ever came true,
except the one I made that night.

My notebook!

I thought it was gone forever.

It obviously wasn't a trap

because a safe didn't fall on me
when I picked it up.

So who had dropped it off?

Maybe it didn't matter.

All I cared about was that it was back
and that there was a ton of writing to do.

The weird thing was
my brain was on the fritz.

So I decided to do what I always did
when I felt stuck.

I went on an emergency spy mission.

The $10,000 tower

It's full of power and money

Why can't I think of anything?

It's because I'm too dangerous, Harriet.

Everything you write in me
just hurts other people.

It ain't pretty, kid.

But Ole Golly said I never had to
apologize for telling the truth.

Uh-huh. And how'd that work out for you,
Goldilocks?

That splinter feeling
in my stomach suddenly started jabbing me.

It was like it was telling me
something I already knew

but was too scared to admit.

I can't be a writer.

I just wanna be
You just wanna be

We just wanna be

I am gonna be who I wanna be

My autonomy

No, I won't cut my hair

And I'll wear whatever

I like it when I get to be myself

I don't wanna be
You don't wanna be

We don't wanna be told what to do

As I watched people heading off to work,

I began to wonder.

If I wasn't going to be a writer,
what could I be?

Harriet the window washer?

Harriet the florist?

What about Harriet the hot dog man?

Harriet? What are you doing out here?

Just thinking.

If I wasn't a writer,
what else do you think I could be?

Well, there's lots of great opportunities
out there

for someone as smart as you.

You could be a doctor.

I can't stand the sight of blood.

What about a teacher?

I'm allergic to getting hit by spitballs.

How about an astronaut?
You could go to the moon.

Dad, I get nauseous when we get in the car
to go to Grandma's.

We're just trying to help.

I know. I just wanna be alone, okay?

Harriet, this came in the mail yesterday
while you were out with your mom.

Ole Golly?

Harriet, you'll remember
that I told you many times

Keats once said,

"Truth is beauty, and beauty is truth."

And I'm glad you used your notebook
to tell your truth.

Naturally, those notebooks should not
be read by anybody else.

But if they are, then, Harriet,
you're going to have to do one thing.

And you won't like it.
You will have to apologize.

Apologize?

Remember that writing is
to put love in the world,

not to use against your friends.

It wasn't what I expected to hear,

but I knew exactly
where her words of wisdom would take me.

Janie, I'm sorry.

The mean stuff I wrote in my notebook,
not apologizing last night, everything.

You're not a mad, bad scientist.
I was just jealous.

Jealous?

I'm a pretend writer
whose words hurt people.

You're a scientist-scientist who's trying
to make the world a better place.

I don't know about that.

I was trying to synthesize
a new kind of energy source yesterday,

and I accidentally vaporized
my nostril hair.

I'm so sorry, Janie.

Forgiven.

Buffalo?

Thanks.

Were you the one who dropped off
my notebook last night?

Yep. You without your notebook is
like Albert Einstein without his violin.

I used to think that too.

I don't wanna be a writer anymore.

What?

There's a million other things I could do.

My mom thinks I could be a teacher.

Well, at least you could send yourself
to detention.

Hey, Sport! Got a second?
I wanna talk to you.

Wait!

I had to talk to him.

So I decided to use
my ace spying skills one last time.

Will Sport Rocque please report
to the principal's office immediately?

Rope burn!

Just give me a chance.

I can't believe you.

Could I interest you in some pizza?

With a side order of a sincere apology?

Hi.

Would you leave me alone?

- Stop.
- Wallace, give me a break.

Safety doesn't take any breaks, Sport.
It's always on the job.

Thanks, Wallace.

No thanks required.

I'm a hall monitor, Harriet.
It's my job. It's what I do.

Sport, I just wanna say--

I don't wanna hear it, Harriet.
It's too late.

If you won't accept my apology,

will you accept this?

It's a balance sheet of all the pluses
and minuses of our friendship.

Plus 20? For me teaching you
how to always win at Rock Paper Scissors?

Plus ten for me checking the spelling
on your English papers.

Plus 100 for giving you
that 3D baseball card of Mickey Mantle.

Lot of pluses here, Harriet.
Lot of pluses.

Some minuses too.

Minus 820 for writing mean stuff
about my best friend.

But when you look at the numbers,

I think you'll see this friendship's still
a pretty good deal.

No, it's not. Your math is off.

Look, you didn't carry the two here
and the three here.

Look, our friendship
actually adds up to minus 180.

Just tell me what to say, and I'll say it.

Would love to, Harriet,

but you'll just write it in your notebook
and use it against me.

Let him go, Harriet.

I think Sport needs
a little space right now.

Let him breathe.

Maybe Sport didn't wanna hear my apology,

but I hoped my classmates would.

I know you all hate me
like a vampire hates the sun,

and I don't blame you
for a Transylvania second.

Ellen, come on!

How am I supposed to do this scene
with one drumstick?

I haven't memorized my lines.

Maybe because all you do all day is
chew your dumb hair.

Congratulations, Marion.

You've just won another first prize
for being the lousiest,

rottenest person of the year.

Tell me, Pinky, what's it like
being the star of the weirdo circus?

Well, at least people like
to go to my house to hang out,

and not just because of my mother's cake.

I couldn't believe it.

The cruddy things I wrote
had turned everybody against each other.

Children, please.

Fall Harvest Day is about
working together,

bringing in the crops,

enjoying the sweet, sweet bounty
of the season.

Sport, Janie,
you two need to come together.

You're my tip-top tater tot team.

We were, until I found out
that Janie gave Harriet her notebook back.

- You did what?
- How could you?

Why?

She's my friend.

I thought we were friends.

Children, let's take a deep breath

and blow away
these dark and stormy clouds.

Harriet, I thought I saw you
peeking through the curtain.

What's wrong?

Everybody's fighting because of me.

Oh, no, they're not.

Actors are famous for being
a tad moody at times.

Are you chewing your hair again? Ugh.

Leave me alone.

Help.

Ms. Elson, I wanted to thank you
for making me be the onion.

For a little while, it made me feel
like I had a lot of layers.

You do have a lot of layers.

No. I don't.

I only have one layer,

and it's stinky, and it's mean,

and that's why I have to quit.

- What?
- The play will be better without me.

Well, what about all the new lines
and songs you wrote

that make the side dishes feel
like heroes, Harriet?

Just go back to the original play.

It'll make Marion happy,
and she's the star.

So, anyway...

Harriet, no.

The sharp, sassy taste of the onion
balances out the flavor

of all the other dishes.

We need your savory flair.

On the way home,

it seemed like everyone was
giving me the hairy eyeball.

Even the pigeons.

Like you're all so perfect?

There's a reason people call you
rats with wings.

I started notebook number one
when I was seven years old.

Even then, I wanted to be a great writer.

Sixteen notebooks later, I knew the truth.

I was gonna end up being
Harriet the hot dog guy.

Can we talk this over?

There's nothing left to say.

Harriet. So nice to see you.

Why are you dressed like an onion?

School play.

Why are your dogs dressed
like the Beatles?

We've all got a bad case of Beatlemania.

Right, guys?

It's my best-selling dog outfit yet.

You okay, hon?

I guess.

Well, how's the writing going?

I'm not going to be a writer anymore.

What? Why not?

Ole Golly says a writer is supposed to
put love into the world.

All I do is judge people.

Well, did you judge me?

Yep.

And?

I wrote that you were lazy.

Then I thought you were
just a big scaredy-cat.

Well, after you did some more spying,
what did you think?

I thought about when I tried to change
from eating tomato sandwiches

to tomato-and-cheese sandwiches once

and totally chickened out.

And how changing your whole life was
probably a million and five times scarier.

It's hard to be brave.

But you did it.

It's the Dog Beatles!

- Got to go.
- Bye, Mrs. Plumber.

Good luck.

I started thinking about
other people on my spy route,

like Mr. Withers and his 26 cats.

I thought he was a spooky hermit guy
at first.

Then I found out that his mother died

and it made him so sad that
he just wanted to hide from the world.

And what about Carlos?

I thought he was
the dreaded bodega burglar.

Then I found out that
he was just protecting his parents' deli.

Hello, lady...

Hello, lady onion.

And now we're friends.

I realized I judged everybody
on my route at first.

Then I dug a little deeper
and found the truth.

I gotta write this down.

My notebook!

Garbage truck, wait!

My notebook is in the garbage.

Stop!

"Truth is beauty, and beauty is truth."

That's what John Keats once said.

The only thing is
you just have to dig for it.

If I could do that with strangers,

why couldn't I do it with my friends?

All right, young thespians.

Can you feel a tingle in your toes?

It's almost showtime.

Okay, let's use that energy.

Good morning, everyone.

Will you join me
in welcoming the sixth graders

as they perform the Fall Harvest Feast?

We are the yams.

A taste so sweet to munch.

We are the tater tots.

Bite-size, but big on crunch.

My pungent flavor makes me shout.
I'm a-- I'm a...

"I'm a brussels sprout."

Oh, yeah. I'm a brussels sprout!

Not to fear. The main course is here.

You guys switched sides.

We did?

Now everything's gonna be backwards.

Hey, watch it.

Do you see Harriet?

Never mind.

May I have your attention, please?

Presenting
a death-defying tale of love and loss.

Sound and fury.

Folly, falsehood and forgiveness.

I present to you, "The Onion's Lament."

I am an onion.

A stinky, unlovable vegetable
who makes people cry.

Yams, I wrote that you two should join
the weirdo circus.

But then I dug to a deeper layer

and saw how fearless you are
about being yourself.

I realized...

any weirdo circus that Pinky
and Purple Socks are in

is one I wanna join.

Deal with it!

I wrote in my notebook that

people only went to Carrie Andrews' house
because of her mother's cake.

Then I dug deeper.

People may go to Carrie's house
for the cake,

but the reason they stay is
because of Carrie.

Really?

I wrote this about Marion.

This is brutal even for me.

But that was just my top layer talking.

The one that's still mad
that in third grade,

Marion dumped me as a friend.

Then I dug deeper.

Just like fall turning into winter,
a friendship can turn cold too.

But just like with the seasons,
it's normal.

It's natural,
and it's not anybody's fault.

I wrote something for everyone.

Rachel is like her lollipops.

Hard on the outside, chewy on the inside.

Beth Ellen,
I really wish we could be friends.

Me too.

I saved the most important message
for last.

The reason I was so hard on you is
because I was jealous

that your dad thinks you're grown up
enough to take care of him.

My parents won't even let me
take care of our goldfish.

Not that I blame you.

I fed them spaghetti once.
It did not turn out well.

I know my parents sometimes wish
I was more like you.

Don't worry, sometimes I do too.

And after what happened with the notebook
and Ole Golly moving away,

I kinda do feel older and wiser.

But I still want to bring
my stuffie to school,

play town
and drink chocolate egg creams all day.

I know you want me to grow up faster,
but I'm really good at being 11.

And besides, when I do finally grow up,
you'll say,

"You were so gosh darn cute
when you were little."

So I don't think we need to rush it.

So, Sport...

I forgot what I was going to say.

Bravo, bravo, brava, bravissima!

I love this job.

From now on, I quadruple swear
to always dig deep

and put love into the world.

Everyone, take a page.

I kept my promise
when I joined the school paper

and wrote a story about Wallace Walker.

Like everybody, I thought he was a goober

until I figured out he was a hero.

The splinter feeling in my stomach
eventually went away.

But I still missed Ole Golly like mad.

Luckily, the most important thing
she taught me will live inside me forever.

If you want to be a great writer,
you have to know everything.

And to know everything,
you need to see everything.

And to see everything,
you need to be a spy.

I just wanna be
You just wanna be

We just wanna be

I don't wanna be
You don't wanna be

We don't wanna be told what to do

And I try my best to do good
In the neighborhood

I smile real nice

And I strive to tell the truth

I just wanna be
You just wanna be

We just wanna be

I don't wanna be
You don't wanna be

We don't wanna be told what to do

I am gonna be who I wanna be

My autonomy

I just wanna be
You just wanna be

We just wanna be

No, I won't cut my hair

And I'll wear whatever

I like it when I get to be myself

I don't wanna be
You don't wanna be

We don't wanna be told what to do