- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe - — for www.addic7ed.com —
LOUISE: School pictures.
Let's see if I slipped another one past 'em.
And fourth grade will forever be the year I had a goatee.
- Here's mine. - Ooh. The mousse is loose.
I teased those bangs till they begged for mercy.
Tammy, your lips are so puffy.
Yeah, duh. I timed my shellfish allergy just right.
Damn, J-Ju, are those glossy, or are you just glowing?
Thanks, Zeke. You look fine.
Gee, simmer down! (laughs)
Hi, Jimmy Jr. Can I get one of those?
Oh, sure, Tina. I guess I should take one of yours, then.
Uh, absolutely. Here you go.
JIMMY JR.: This is a happy face with glasses
drawn on a Post-it Note.
Good eye. I, uh, don't have any pictures. Sorry.
Oh, that's okay.
Taking mine back.
Ugh, I can't believe I missed picture day again.
It's happened every single year,
so at least you have a streak going.
Damn flu season.
You sure you're well enough for picture day, sweetie?
I'm fine. (retches)
- You sure you're well... - (retches)
- You sure you're... - (retches)
I made it! I finally made it!
- I'm having my picture taken. - Here we go.
(retches)
(sighs) I feel like I'm passing through Wagstaff
without leaving a mark.
Other kids have school records, plaques.
What's my legacy going to be?
There was that time you got tangled in a jump rope
for five hours.
You were our school's Baby Jessica.
FROND: All students, let's get ready to assemble!
(sighs) Let's go.
- Aah! - Legacy stuff.
JIMMY: Hey, Bob,
what you cleaning up over there, your drool,
over my classy new awning? (chuckles)
Yeah, I noticed, Jimmy.
You wanted it that ugly, I guess?
It's big and shiny, like your bald spot.
- (laughs) - Ha! Male-pattern baldness.
I've got it, too, I think.
It's made from old Ferrari bumpers.
I couldn't care less, Jimmy. I'm yawning.
(yawns) I'm yawning at your awning.
- (bell jingles) - What's going on?
Ooh, nice awning.
- Shiny. - (Bob groans)
Hey, Bob, you want my old piece of crap one for your dump?
(quietly): Bob, free awning.
Lin, he's insulting us.
Oh, yeah, he is. I don't even notice anymore.
First piece of business: Peter Pescadero has won
the Wagstaff checkers tournament.
I will now present him with this trophy of a giant checker,
which is definitely not a hockey puck from lost and found.
Damn, that's a nice checker.
Now for the big news.
Today I'm announcing a surprise forced retirement.
You sons of bitches. This is how you spring it on me?
I'm not going anywhere.
- No, no, no, Ms. Labonz, not you. - Oh.
I'm talking about the Wagstaff school song
that we Whalers have sung for decades
without fully appreciating how some of the words
were a bit... raw.
♪ We're the Whalers, we hunt in our whale boats ♪
♪ We row across the water, and then begin the slaughter ♪
♪ With our harpoons, we stab them in the throats ♪
♪ We hack them into pieces, and then we go to recess. ♪
I always thought it was kind of jazzy.
I proposed to Principal Spoors via e-mail
an all-school song contest to choose a new song,
and I took his non-reply as a yes.
So, on Friday, all you aspiring songwriters
will perform your songs,
and the winner will be determined by
this applause meter, purchased by me on eBay
when I was on pain medication after oral surgery.
- Gross. - The most clap-worthy song will become
the official anthem of Wagstaff,
and its writer will become immortal.
We'll sing it forever or till this place is
inevitably turned into condos.
Plus, you'll get your name on this plaque.
(gasps) Plaque. Condos. Immortality.
Man, this kid Tina Belcher really left her mark.
Yeah, it's 140 years later and we're still talking about it.
Also, barrettes are still cool.
(robotic voice): Tell me about it.
Guys, I'm gonna go see a girl about a song
- that I'm gonna write. - GENE: Mm.
- And that girl is me. - Mm.
All I have to do is write an amazing song
about Wagstaff, and I'll have made my mark.
Like Peter and his checker.
Or Mark. He made that mark.
Remember, students may use the music room
during their free periods to work on their song.
So use it or lose it, people.
Uh, Mr. Frond, so are kids really going to pick
the winning song?
Yes. It's in children's hands, literally.
Their clapping decides.
- (Louise laughing) - What? What?
(quietly): You fool.
Nothing. I just thought of something funny.
Have you ever heard of knock-knock jokes?
It's, like, who's there, right?
And it's always just something funny.
- It is. You're right. - Okay, bye.
Can you believe it?
About knock-knock jokes? I mean, they're not all funny.
The one about the interrupting cow makes me uncomfortable.
No, I'm talking about letting kids write the songs
and pick the winner.
We're obviously gonna choose the dumbest, most offensive,
most wrong song for kids.
We're also terrible drivers.
So I'm thinking we write something about pee. Or poop.
Or both. The original power couple.
Gene, do you think you could come up with
a really idiotic melody to go with dumb words?
Have you not heard my song "Diaper Day Penis Parade"?
Wait, you guys are entering, too?
You're competing against me?
Hey, let a thousand dumb songs bloom.
Quick, give me a pencil.
I need to write this down before I forget.
(imitates flatulence)
Uh, can I get some more water, Lin?
I guess I'm still sweating from those stairs I climbed
- two hours ago. - It is getting hot in here.
Look at my pits.
There should be a lifeguard on duty in there.
Yeah, what's... Oh, my God.
It's Pesto's stupid awning. It's reflecting the sun at us.
You know what's happening, the visually pleasing curves
are making a concave mirror.
They're not visually pleasing curves!
Yeah, they're visually pleasing and deadly.
- Like the Death Star. - (gasps) The Death Star!
Bob, you're like an Ewok.
Wait, why am I an Ewok?
- No reason. Hairy. Excitable. - I'm going over there.
- You're a feisty little Ewok. - (entry bell jingles)
Jimmy, your stupid awning is blasting my restaurant with sun.
Slow down. All I hear is "Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi. I'm Bob."
I'm serious, it's reflecting the sun right at us.
Ha, hilarious. Maybe it will cook your burgers better.
Ha. Solar power. It's the future.
Come on, don't-don't make me report this to the city.
What city, Cry-baby-delphia?
Not a real city. I don't think.
No, I'm gonna complain to Ugly-awning-achusetts.
- Which isn't a city, but... - It's gotta be a city, bro.
Fine, Stupid-awnings-sylvania.
Damn it, I can't think of any cities right now.
- Chicago. - Do not tell him Chicago.
This isn't over, Jimmy.
I think it is. Get sunscreen.
Za-oom!
Okay, setting up my songwriting studio for maximum creativity.
Herbal tea, incense from that gas station,
and an eraser. Not like I'm gonna need that.
Here we go. "Wagstaff." That's a good start.
Now what? Wagstaff. Nope, already got that.
Huh. Remember, it's just a song.
It only has to be good enough to immortalize me.
Okay, too much pressure.
Dial it back and just give it a minute
for the words to flow.
Crap, I got nothing. (coughs) Damn incense.
LOUISE: ♪ And the poo poo and the pee pee ♪
GENE: ♪ And the pee pee and the poo poo ♪
♪ When the poo poo and the pee pee... ♪
Hey, guys, how's the songwriting?
The title is "Poo Poo, Pee Pee,"
and all the lyrics are "poo poo, pee pee,"
so we're killing it.
Some of the guys in the band prefer "Pee Pee, Poo Poo."
Oh, my God, that's so much better.
Um, hey, do you guys have a rhyme for "Wagstaff"
sitting around that you're not using?
"Dad's crack." Can't go wrong with that.
I do like that.
Hey, T, if you want to give up,
you could join us.
Your tone-deaf voice might be just the color
we're looking for in our harmonies.
That's very flattering, but your song isn't even about Wagstaff.
Oh, I'm sorry, I guess her highness
doesn't go pee pee and poo poo at Wagstaff.
This is what school's really about, honey!
(bongos droning)
(indistinct chatting, singing)
Nagstaff, Ragstaff, Flagstaff. Flagstaff, that's it.
Damn, why isn't this stupid school in Flagstaff?
I'm hearing some crud, some crapola and some ai-yi-yi.
It's a privilege just to be in the room with so much dumb.
And a little inspiring.
Hi, Gene. You're in the contest, too?
My song has a really big note. A high "D."
I've never hit it before, but I'm gonna hit it.
I'm also trying to hit a high "D" in math,
but I'm not gonna hit it.
So what's going on with your song, Rudy?
Well, my doctor advises me against singing,
so I've been working on a little sing/talk number,
like that song "Love Shack."
It's on my dad's "Getting Pumped Up for Date Night" mix.
(inhales)
You should see him dance around the condo.
Hello, songwriters.
I'm going to be going around the room
checking on your progress, so bring it on.
- Or should I say sing it on? - No.
My song name-checks every kid in school
in locker order, 'cause who's not gonna clap
for their own dumb name? (scoffs)
♪ Willa Prentiss, Hogarth Haber ♪
♪ Lily someone, she's my neighbor. ♪
My song is just the word "whoa" over and over.
'Cause I like when songs do that.
♪ Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh-oh... ♪
- I hate it. - Whoa.
-♪ Locking my locker, playing some soccer ♪ - (Zeke imitating guitar)
- ♪ Walking the halls, doing it all ♪ - Windmill!
♪ Wagstaff, Wagstaff, you're our school ♪
♪ I wanna be inside of you. ♪
No, no, no, no, no, no.
It's called "The Wagstaff School!"
I'm gonna hit it. (off-key) ♪ School. ♪
I'm gonna hit it. ♪ Schoo... ♪
I don't know what you're trying to hit, but stop.
Okay, it looks like the sun's just about to hit the awning.
- Here I go. - Yay, it's working. What a great system.
Yay. So how long do you think I gotta stay here?
Well, till the sun moves. Like, a half hour.
Oh, okay. I'll just, uh, reschedule some stuff.
Oh, no, Teddy, you have somewhere to be?
No, just a job. It's-it's fine.
I'm happy to do this for you.
I mean, there is such a thing as tape, but, uh...
- Well, then, don't stay, Teddy. - No, no, no.
Though this cardboard is starting to get hot, you know.
- Forget it, Teddy. Forget it, please. - Oh, my God,
it's really heating up, it's really heating up.
Let go, Teddy. Drop the cardboard.
- No, I can do it. - Put it down.
It's just a few more minutes
until the Sun moves around the Earth.
Right? Ow, ow! It hurts so bad!
- Okay, let it go, Teddy. - I'm burning up!
- Drop it. - (Teddy screaming)
Why are you doing it? Let it go.
- Aah! - Oh, my face.
So I'll pick up some tape, then, right?
♪ Sign says school's open, fools ♪
♪ 'Cause kids rule at the Waaaggstaff. ♪
♪ And the poo poo and the pee pee. ♪
Okay, wearing my mentor hat here.
Your songs are crap.
I'm realizing that children aren't good songwriters and,
- oh, my God, one of these is gonna win. - LOUISE: Ours.
I can't have another incident with one of my proposals.
"Bring a Stranger to School Day" was a disaster.
I'm gonna get so fired.
I miss my stranger.
She had chicken in her pockets.
Oh, Tina, I didn't hear your song.
Or maybe I blotted it out.
Yeah, I haven't really gotten very far with mine.
I think I'm gonna withdraw.
Great call. See ya.
(sighs) I really wanted to make a great song.
I just wish I could have found the right words to do it.
- Found the what? - The right words.
Uh, Tina, why-why don't you show me what you have?
We'll riff. Maybe I can help you get unblocked.
Uh, okay.
♪ Wagstaff, something, something ♪
♪ Flagstaff... ♪
So, basically, I'm hearing
"Wagstaff, fair Wagstaff,
your hallways shining bright." Nice.
Oh, did I say that?
(stammers) Less what you said than the way you said it.
- Okay. - Keep going.
♪ School things, people... ♪
- Um... - Did I hear "Counselors,
steering students right"? You're in the zone.
I guess it helps to have someone else write stuff down.
(whoops) Take a break, Sondheim.
- You're giving me writer's cramp. - Wow, that's so much.
- You wrote a terrific song. - Oh, my gosh.
- Um, what's this word? - Stalwart.
I didn't even know I knew that one. Damn, I'm good.
♪ Where the sloppy Joes are hearty ♪
♪ Everyone has a hall pass and no one is tardy... ♪
I'm still kind of working on the tune.
Wait. A couple hours ago you had no song,
and now you've got nine verses
and a soulful bridge?
Yeah, I mean, haven't you ever had something
corked up inside you and it comes out all at once?
I am going to say yes.
Well, some of the words are kind of wordy.
Yeah, I'm a word... um, lady person.
- Smith? - Who?
- Hmm. - Oh, I like that tune. Can I use it?
♪ Where the sloppy Joes are hearty... ♪
LINDA: These newspapers look okay,
right? Like the bottom of a hamster cage but on a window?
- It's cozy. - Whoa. You guys read about this serial killer?
I mean, it makes us look a little abandoned.
Like, more than usual?
- No. - You're closing?
- I'm so sorry. - Nope, still open.
But the newspaper...
Yeah, but we wrote on it "Still Open."
I thought that was ironic.
Hi, I'm with Shore-to-Door Realty,
checking out the space.
So this used to be a restaurant?
Ooh, it's gonna need a lot of work.
- That's it. - (all screaming)
Wow, great light.
COURTNEY: ♪ School ♪ (clearing throat)
♪ School, school... ♪
♪ Sonia Livadopolous, the Gomez twins Juan and Gus... ♪
Uh, hey, Tammy, I noticed that your song with the names
of all the kids at school doesn't have my name.
It's hard to fit them all in, Jocelyn. Get an easier name.
I tried. It takes 30 days.
Listen up. The big contest is less than 24 hours away.
The A.V. club is setting up the sound system
in the gym as we speak.
Unsung heroes, those guys.
Buy them a milk at lunch if you get a chance.
Yes, our stalwart crew.
Stalwart. Where have we heard that word before?
I think Dad had a stalwart removed from his big toe.
No, Tina's song.
Remember, it's not too late to drop out.
I overheard some bullies talking about how writing
the school song isn't "cool" and then something
about a knuckle sandwich, so bear that in mind.
Hey, tell us about your songwriting, Tina.
Like, who are your influences?
There... uh, there's some Sheryl Crow.
- Mm. I hear it. - Counting Crows.
- Oh, yeah. Definitely. - Crow-sby, Stills & Nash.
'Cause you know who I'm hearing?
Philip Frond. In every line.
I mean, he gets a couple of shout-outs in it.
No, I'm saying you didn't write your song.
What? Maybe you're jealous, 'cause my song's about something.
Yours is about pee and poo and mine's about...
being punctual and respecting school property.
Leave me alone.
Wow. She even runs like Sheryl Crow.
- (bird chirps) - BOB: Yes!
The buns are attracting seagulls.
Once they start pooping, shininess gone.
I'm glad you told us that really long story
about seagull poop on your truck, Teddy.
Yeah, for the first ten minutes I didn't know
- if it was going somewhere, but it was. - Kind of.
- Just keep standing there so Pesto doesn't see us. - That's right.
I-I'm just a guy waiting for a bus. A block from the bus stop.
I don't know where the bus stop is 'cause I'm new in town.
But I got a suitcase full of dreams and...
Oh, God, my buns are rolling off.
I said to wet them so they'd stick.
Who wants to eat wet hamburger buns, Bob?
Yep. Yours are all rolling off.
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Perfect Wet Buns.
Uh-oh. Pesto's looking.
- Crap. Go, go, go. - Oh, here's my bus.
Hey, Mr. Frond? I was just wondering, um,
did I write my song or did you?
Does anyone really write a song?
I mean, sure, I wrote the song,
but you wrote your name on it, so we both wrote something.
Damn it. I'm a fraud.
But a good fraud.
Whatever gets picked will be the school song
for the next hundred years, probably.
Should it really be about poop?
Or whatever the hell Rudy's doing?
(sighs) If we don't do the song, I'll be forgotten.
That's right. Like dust in the wind.
Ooh. I'm gonna write that down.
Okay, fine. But to win we've got to get the most applause, right?
Oh, we will. The stuff about clearing cafeteria tables rocks.
No, Louise is right. Kids are just gonna clap
for the dumbest song with their dumb hands.
So we add some applause somehow?
Like a recording of applause?
Yes. We hook it into the sound system.
Like how I added a laugh track
to the faculty comedy jam last year.
There's a boys basketball game tonight.
I could record some applause there.
Tina, I think we found an applausable solution.
(soft cackling)
Are we bad?
We're not great, but we mean really well.
(whispers): So are we good?
Yeah, the clapping's on this tape.
Low-scoring game. Took a while.
Zero-zero in the second half? Stop throwing up bricks!
Tina, stop yelling at us.
I will when you give us something to clap about!
Sink a bucket!
There was a three-minute standing ovation
when they finally scored. Coach Blevins cried.
You sing, I press play, our song wins,
we never speak of this again. Have fun.
So, what were you talking to Mr. Frond about?
Oh, just the basketball game.
- Giving him the old hoop scoop. - No further questions.
In these seats next to me are contestants.
In these contestants are songs.
They sing, you decide.
This is the Wagstaff School Song Contest.
Oh. I thought someone would cheer at that.
Let's get started.
♪ Called the Wagstaff School. ♪
(whispers): She's hitting it.
- (coughing) - Oh...
♪ You're a school ♪
♪ I want to be inside of you. ♪
Pow! Kish-ah. Spoing.
(applause)
♪ Kids lining up inside just to get milk. ♪
Well, I'm not the highest.
But it's an honor just to compete
against your friends in a fair contest.
- Oh, God. - What was that about?
Oh just, uh, pre-performance jitters.
- Tina, relax. - Yeah, you need to chill out.
♪ Jeremy Dylan, Megan McGrath ♪
♪ That kid I copy from in math... ♪
(chuckles) Come on out, Jimmy.
Bob, what's going on? What are you doing?
We fight fire with fire, Lin.
Did you rip our bathroom mirror off its hinges?
It's how we take out the Death Star.
I offered to neatly unscrew it, but Bob couldn't wait.
Sun's perfect. When Jimmy comes out, I'm gonna torch him.
(cackles)
Bobby, you're going to the dark side a little bit.
I'm gonna bring him to his knees!
There's Jimmy. Now!
My eyes!
Jeez, Bob, why did you get Trev?
- His innocent eyes. - You said it was Pesto!
I can't see... The sun's in my eyes.
It's in my eyes too, Bob! I hate you, sun.
You came between me and my friend. And you killed Trev.
You maniac, Bob.
This Linguini could have been hurt.
I-I'm so sorry, Trev.
It's okay. My vision's coming back.
Ow. Ow. Ow.
Jimmy, truce. Come on.
We got to do something about the awning.
- Nope. Never. - But Jimmy, you don't even like it.
- Would you shut up, Trev? - Wait, what?
- Tell them. - All right. It's...
It's kind of sweltering under it. And echoey.
And during that storm yesterday, some people thought
it sounded like the end of the world.
I only stuck with the awning 'cause you hate it, Bob.
I'm allowed to be happy sometimes, too.
That's so dumb. Put back the old one.
Then what am I supposed to do with this?
Eat the cost and feel really bad about it? Hopefully?
You know, Jimmy, you got that crusty old trough urinal
in your bathroom. You could use this instead.
Turn an awning made from Ferrari bumpers into a trough urinal?
Oh, ho, ho, ho. That is the classiest thing I've ever heard of.
I can't wait to urinate all over it.
- I'll go get my tools. - Yay!
I want to pee on it, too.
(panting): ♪ Ricky Brown, Toby Nero ♪
♪ Caroline Shapiro ♪
♪ These were the names of all the kids at Wagstaff... ♪
(sighs)
♪ Plus Jocelyn. ♪
That's me!
(applause)
We're up after Tina, Gene.
Lot of turds today, but our song is still the stupidest.
- What if I forget the words? - You won't, Gene.
You live those words. You are those words.
Now for the winn... the next contestant,
Tina Belcher.
(groans)
Tina, don't be shy.
- (groaning) - Tina?
- (whispers): What's going on? - Your name's Tina. Pretty sure.
It's not my song. It's Mr. Frond's.
We know, Tina. It's not gonna win anyway.
Yes, it is. The applause meter's rigged.
- What? - (gasps)
Tina, your mic awaits.
I just wanted to win. To make my mark.
You know, if it means that much to you, go ahead.
- (moans) - "Pee, pee, poo, poo."
I just remembered the words.
You had them all along.
(sighs) Everyone,
I entered this contest to get a plaque. But I don't know...
Who really cares if future kids and cool robots know who I am?
Maybe what matters is how I am in the present,
with the people around me right now.
The spoken word stuff is kind of my thing, but whatever.
Anyway, if I didn't do the song I prepared,
um, all by myself,
and did something from the heart, it might sound like this.
- Oh, no. - Oh, no.
♪ Wagstaff ♪
♪ The only word I have so far is Wagstaff ♪
♪ I thought something... ♪
She deserves this, but, man, it's really hard to watch.
And listen to. Should we help her?
How do we even do that? I mean, throw a blanket over her?
♪ Wishing I'd thought this through a little more ♪
-♪ Wagstaff ♪ - ♪ And the poo, poo and the pee, pee ♪
- ♪ And the pee, pee and the poo, poo ♪ - What are you doing?
- Teaming up with you. - We're helping.
- Are you? - Don't think about it.
And ignore all the people who look like they hate this.
♪ Wagstaff ♪
♪ Poo, poo and the pee, pee and the pee, pee ♪
-♪ Wagstaff ♪ - ♪ And the poo, poo and the poo, poo ♪
-♪ Wagstaff ♪ - ♪ And the pee, pee and the poo, poo ♪
- ♪ Poo, poo ♪ - ♪ Pee, pee. ♪
(applause)
Five. We got a five.
Okay, our new school song is,
"Wagstaff, You're a School, I Want to Be Inside of You."
Oh, my God. Don't tell your parents.
- Rock and roll! - (whoops)
Thanks, guys. Sorry if singing with me kept you from winning.
You know what? I'm not sure we were ever gonna beat those two.
Yeah, it's dumb eat dumb out there.
Here's your plaque. It's not engraved yet.
Never will be. Uh...
- (applause) - Uh-oh.
- Oh, boy. - What's that? - That's our public. Come on,
let's give them what they want. One, two, seven, eight!
-♪ Locking my locker, playing some soccer ♪ - (imitating guitar)
-♪ Walking the halls, doing it all ♪ - ♪ Windmill ♪
♪ Wagstaff, Wagstaff, you're a school ♪
- ♪ I want to be inside of you ♪ - ♪ Wagstaff ♪
-♪ And the poo poo and the pee pee ♪ - ♪ And the pee pee ♪
-♪ And the poo poo ♪ - ♪ And the poo poo and the pee pee ♪
♪ And the pee pee and the poo poo ♪
- ♪ Going to the bathroom ♪ - (imitating guitar)
♪ Going to the bathroom ♪
♪ Buying my lunch ♪
- ♪ Eating a bunch ♪ - ♪ Windmill ♪
♪ Wagstaff, Wagstaff, you're a school ♪
- ♪ I want to be inside of you ♪ - ♪ Wagstaff ♪
- (Zeke imitating guitar) - (Jimmy Jr. scat singing)
♪ Wagstaff ♪
♪ Then another thing about Wagstaff. ♪
- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe - — for www.addic7ed.com —