Toast is up.
That's odd. We weren't making toast.
Oh, no!
It's a chain letter.
There are no metaphors in the Other Realm, are there?
Other Realm chain letters are the worst.
If we don't immediately send strong iron chains
to 20 other people, horrible things will befall us.
Okay, so which of my dearest friends do I hate the most?
Stop right there.
Bad luck is not brought on by silly superstitions
like chain letters.
You're right. They're brought on by black cats.
That is a hateful stereotype.
It's brought on by midgets in dresses.
Give me that.
We are gonna throw this chain letter away...
and nothing horrible will happen.
I'm sure this is just a coincidence.
( upbeat rock theme playing )
If the in-flight movie's bad,
I'm jumping.
A "B"? What did you get?
A C-minus?
Wow. This is the first time
I ever got a better grade than you.
Yep. It's my paper.
"Your characters are undeveloped,
and your plot seems contrived."
Of course it's contrived. I made it up.
Hey. I got a C-plus. What did you get?
She got a C-minus.
Sabrina got a C-minus?
Sabrina, the genius, got a C-minus.
I always feel the minus part is personal.
I've never gotten a C-minus in my whole life.
( slow, lethargic theme playing )
( chortles )
( bell rings ) I got to talk to Mr. Franco.
And remember to floss.
Mr. Franco, I wanted to talk to you
about this C-minus I got on my paper.
I'm sure you'll do better next time.
Well, I'm horribly upset about it this time.
I've kind of grown accustomed to getting A's.
They really cushion the blow when I get a pimple,
or I have to climb the rope in gym class.
Sabrina, everyone gets a C once in a while,
and no one can climb the rope in gym class.
It's there to humiliate people.
I should have trusted my instincts and taken Metal Shop.
Hey. I got to get to gym class.
We get to climb the rope today.
( muffled speech )
So to recap...
You have done nothing to respond to this chain letter?
You both held your tongues. Excellent.
You will find the best way to stop a chain letter
is to simply ignore it.
( both mumbling )
Let's let the professionals track down the culprit
and bring him to justice.
( speaking incoherently )
You can't lose faith.
Because if I must say so myself,
I think all of us are doing a pretty good job.
Ladies.
( muffled speech )
Oh. Ah.
Well, we can't catch everybody now, can we?
( rock theme playing )
Sabrina...is something bothering you?
You look like I do when I've accidentally eaten apricots.
Heh. Your larynx hasn't collapsed, has it?
No. I'm just working hard on this story.
I got a C-minus on the last one. I heard.
I'm working hard to prove it was an aberration.
Oh, then, I'm sure this one is wonderful.
Uh, let me hear some.
Okay. Well, it's supposed to be a genre piece,
so I picked romance.
"Clare looked at Robert,
"and Robert looked at Clare.
"Clare and Robert were looking at each other.
"Clare didn't want to fall in love,
"but nothing in her crazy life made sense,
and she lost all feeling in her thumbs."
You don't have to be good at everything.
Well, if it isn't "C-brina."
Perhaps you can improve your grades
by studying in detention.
Detention? What did I do?
Even John Grisham has to pick up his trash.
Hm, missy?
Or should I say, Miss-C Minus?
( laughing )
More sugar for your tea?
Oh. Oh! This is more awkward
than when we had lunch with The Elephant Man.
Please let me send the chain letters
and get rid of these annoying curses. Please.
No! We are taking the postmaster's advice
and not giving in.
Fine. Then get your big, fat hand
out of my way.
You get your big, fat hand out of my way.
Oh! Oh!
Ow!
You broke my big, fat nail.
Hey, shouldn't you be working on your story?
I'm trying to find some stupid inspiration
to write my stupid story.
I recommended she watch this spy movie.
Is this movie helping you at all?
Well, so far, it's about a very handsome spy
who drives a sports car with machine guns in the headlights,
beautiful women, an evil scientist with an eye patch,
more beautiful women,
and a plot to corner the uranium market.
But I'm only ten minutes in.
Maybe you'd be more inspired
if you had the classic accouterments of a writer.
Gin, night sweats and a bad marriage?
I was talking about my old manual typewriter.
It always used to inspire me when I was in college.
I think it's still up in the attic.
Well...
I'll try anything.
Beats sitting around here with Salem yelling,
"Bring it on, baby," every time there's a woman on the screen.
Okay. Here goes nothing.
Hopefully, a well-written nothing.
Let's see.
International spy, Derek Kink,
has been given the assignment of stopping--
I need a villain
--Dr. Bad.
Fix that later.
Uh... An evil scientist
bent on taking over the world...
Ha! I'm good. Wow.
Soon, my face will be on the side of Barnes & Noble bags.
( thunder crashes )
( laughs )
Hilda!
Go away! I am mailing these chain letters tonight
and getting rid of these wolf ears!
No! Yes!
( siren wailing )
( both howling )
Where were we?
Yes! No!
I aced my story. I just know it.
I might have blown mine.
I wrote a techno-thriller, but I set it in the '20s.
C? But that's impossible!
I typed it on a manual typewriter.
The same kind William Faulkner used
when he wasn't passed out drunk on the veranda.
( bell rings )
Well, if it makes you feel any better,
I've gotten so many Cs, my next one's free.
And if it makes you feel any worse...
I got a B.
Can I talk to you about this?
Sure.
I thought this story was better,
but it had some of the same problems as the first one.
Even though the spy genre was a good choice,
characters didn't seem real.
Didn't seem real?
But I based them all on real people.
I mean, come on, Dr. Bad, an evil scientist
who kills teenagers with detention slips of death.
Sound like a certain "Krafty" vice principal?
You give much thought to that name, "Dr. Bad"?
W-- And-- And "Derek Kink"? Harvey Kinkle.
I mean, it was practically nonfiction.
That's not character development.
A good writer knows everything about her characters:
their history, their strengths and weaknesses,
and what motivates them.
I put it in a nice binder.
Ugh.
Shirt untucked.
I drew straight from life.
SABRINA: Dr. Bad?
Here's your detention slip...
of death.
( laughs )
Oh, no. My characters have come to life.
And that means that student's about to die.
All I did was wear my skates to school.
And Mr. Franco said that my characters weren't real.
I've got to stop Dr. Bad.
( gasps )
( ominous theme playing )
Ah, Lydia.
Lydia Kissenkill,
my favorite double agent. ( giggles )
And this is my newest weapon: Mm.
The pom bomb.
A cheerleader tosses it at someone,
say, a spy...
and then, rah-rah, sis-boom.
Oh, dear. His head came off.
Oh! ( giggles )
It's marvelous what they can do
with a little crepe paper and plastic explosives.
( giggles ) ( cackles )
Oh!
About your crashing GPA.
There's an enrichment program for remedial students.
They have chocolate milk. And once a year,
they take a trip to the zoo.
How did magic get into my story?
I have to get home and talk to my aunts.
Valerie. Vivian.
Oh, right.
Vivian Soontodie,
the beautiful agent who works with Derek Kink.
And UNICEF. We have to meet Derek.
I'd love to, but I really have to get home.
I have a black belt in 24 disciplines
of Oriental martial arts.
Then clearly, I'm coming with you.
Harvey?
Kink's the name. Derek Kink.
Of the European Special Service.
( sighs )
Pineapple smoothie?
Derek, we have to get to our briefing.
Right. And I have to get home.
Oh. Hey, you're making me spill my smoothie.
Ah. Mrs. Doohickey.
No time for niceties, Kink.
We have the special equipment
you'll be needing for this assignment.
These seemingly innocent-looking erasers
when clapped together
emit a poisonous gas.
( magic chimes )
Chalk up another success.
Fortunately, the effects are only temporary.
Well, good luck with your weapons and poison.
I'll just toddle along.
( shrieks )
You okay?
Yeah. Um, that last scream
really cleared up my sinuses.
Are you going to lunch?
Can't. I got to go home and figure out...
why I forgot my lunch.
ZELDA: I don't like this show. Do you have the remote?
HILDA: No. I foolishly forgot to pick it up
before I unexpectedly grew 8 feet.
I'm going to blame the altitude
for your rudeness.
The characters in my story are alive.
Thank goodness my home can be a shelter from the madness.
HILDA: Sabrina, could you speak up?
It's hard to hear you from up here.
The people in my spy story, they came to life,
and they're running around my school.
The only way that could possibly happen
is if you accidentally used Hilda's magic typewriter,
but she got rid of that years ago, didn't you, Hilda?
By "get rid of" you don't mean "kept," do you?
Hilda.
I'm sorry. I know I was supposed to give it away,
but I just-- I love writing romance stories
with myself as the heroine, and then watching them come to life.
It isn't pathetic, is it?
Can we come up with a solution?
There's a group of international spies
running around my school.
And my neck is killing me.
Oh, dear. What kind of an ending
did you write for your story?
Well, it was late, and I was really tired,
so I just had Dr. Bad...
When this bomb goes off,
all the teenagers will be annihilated,
and everyone will think they were killed
in a science lab experiment gone terribly awry.
( laughs ) Dr. Bad,
you are a genius.
An evil genius. ( cackles )
I had him blow up the school.
( both gasp )
When you're working with a magic typewriter,
you can never let your characters die.
Well, I didn't know I was working
with a magic typewriter.
Right. Sorry.
The problem is, when your characters die,
their real-life counterparts also die.
Oh. And I just spent the last two years
foolishly making friends.
I suggest you go up to your room
and rewrite that ending.
Don't worry. We'll help you.
How do you plan for us to get upstairs?
( typewriter clacking )
There. See?
Man, there are a lot of Frisbees on the roof.
SABRINA: I've got the ending.
Dr. Bad is about to blow up the school,
but then decides not to.
Oh, honey, you can't just force the ending.
It has to come from the character's history,
motivated by their strengths and weaknesses.
That's the same thing Mr. Franco said,
and I still find it annoying.
You know, but the good news is,
if you find the right ending, it practically writes itself.
What is my bra doing on the roof?
Uh, the squirrels need a nut feeder.
Sabrina, we can help you write a new ending.
Try this. Um, Dr. Bad has captured Derek
and tied him to a buzz saw.
There's always been an unpleasant edge
to you, Dr. Bad.
I am killing you just to stop the puns.
Suddenly, Dr. Bad turns to Lydia and says...
Turn off the saw.
Why?
Why? Well, the way the courts
have been cracking down on evil geniuses lately,
it just wouldn't be practical for me to kill him.
I'd end up having to pay a legion of lawyers,
which I'm sure would just wipe out my entire retirement plan.
That's a terrible ending.
Thought it was very contemporary.
You have to come up with a believable ending,
or your characters will reject it.
What am I saying?!
Turn the saw back on!
( cackling )
Fictional characters can be such prima donnas.
Can we get back to the ticking bomb
that's gonna vaporize all of my friends? Not to mention
the only candy machine in town that has Nutrageous bars.
Right. Try this.
As the other characters look on helplessly,
Derek Kink and Dr. Bad
are locked in a fight to the death.
Yes, I have found a worthy opponent in you, Kink.
Much too worthy to kill.
How about a square dance instead?
Delightful.
( "Turkey in the Straw" playing )
What? Ugh. That's a much worse ending than mine.
It's an unexpected twist.
Who are you people to judge my art?
No wonder I'm no good at this. Look at my gene pool.
A cat could write a better ending than that.
And will, if you start typing.
Kink had surprised Dr. Bad...
You're through, Dr. Bad.
I-- I--
I would like to ask you to square dance. Oh.
( "Turkey in the Straw" playing )
Salem. Salem.
Okay. I froze.
Uh-oh.
We're changing again.
Oh. Whoa.
Had to plant rosebushes under Sabrina's window.
I figured something out.
Oh, the ending?
No.
I've figured out I'm no writer, I'm a doer.
So I'm gonna go back to school
and solve this thing myself, in person.
There's a little something on your teeth, Zelly.
Hey.
No spots.
No wings.
No webbed feet.
Hilda, we've beaten the chain letter.
I knew I was right to hold out against that silly superstition.
Actually, I sent out 20 letters this morning.
I was not going to apply mascara
to my six new eyes.
Oh, well, I have to admit
it's kind of a relief to be normal again.
I liked being taller though.
I know. You can wear anything when you're tall.
( ominous theme playing )
( gasps )
They're loose in the school again.
I've got to somehow get them together and disarm the bomb.
Vivian!
Where's Derek?
Huh?
Wouldn't a laptop computer be more convenient?
Still can't work Windows 95. Got to go.
if I'm her weird friend,
I must be really weird.
( tense theme playing )
Excuse me. Even the head cheerleader
can't be in the hallway without a pass.
Okay. I am having a h-heart attack,
and I have to fill out a form...
for the hole.
( scoffs )
Talk about a glamour don't.
Cat suits went out six years ago.
( yells )
( screams )
I wouldn't start any long books if I were you.
( laughs )
Oh, no.
Uh, Dr. Bad's wheelchair
started spinning out of control like--
Whoa.
Like a wheelchair spinning out of control.
Run, Harvey.
Oh. Why couldn't it have been a magic legal pad?
Oh. Mrs. Quick.
Mrs. Quick.
Have you seen Libby Chessler?
She brought some sort of lethal laser device
to school today, and nearly killed me.
Huh?
( magic chimes )
Harvey, have you seen Sabrina? She's acting--
Is there an afternoon prom that nobody asked me to?
Lydia.
Oh.
Okay, that was weird.
( panting )
All right.
Don't start whimpering...
until you get to your office.
Don't start whimpering
until you get to your office.
( whimpers )
Oh. Mrs. Quick.
I mean, Mrs. Doohickey. Have you seen Derek?
Who wants to know?
Uh, will you hold this a second?
Uh, a mysterious blonde spy asks Mrs. Doohickey
for help in locating Derek Kink.
Mrs. Doohickey leads her to him.
Follow me.
Ooh.
Next time, write that Mrs. Doohickey
carries the typewriter.
( whimper, shrieks )
Don't hurt me. Oh, God.
Mr. Kraft.
Why are you acting like a freshman?
Because--
You're not armed?
( clears throat )
In that case, Miss Chessler,
you are suspended.
What? Yes.
It's Valerie who needs to be suspended. She kicked me.
Well, that--
That would explain your strange behavior.
Miss Birkhead fries. Come on.
( gasps ) Oh, dear.
Uh, substitute teacher.
I don't think she looks like you at all.
The psychic was right.
I was separated at birth.
Oh.
Ah-yah!
Keep her away from me.
She has poison chalk dust.
I don't even have gum.
What is going on at this school today?
Oh, it's a pretty normal day, Libby.
Although, I did learn I have an exact duplicate.
She just ran down the hall with Sabrina.
You know...every time
anything strange happens around this school,
the trail always leads to Sabrina.
Or to janitor Bob. But we know that Sabrina
is still in the country. Hm.
Come on.
( suspenseful theme playing )
Derek. Dr. Bad has planted a bomb.
An explosive situation.
I know where it is. Come with me.
Dynamite idea.
And you can cool it with the puns.
Look, what happened between us was wrong.
Sabrina's my best friend, and you're her boyfriend, and--
When did you change your clothes?
Couple days ago?
Miss Birkhead...
I am suspending you for attacking Libby.
What? When did you change your clothes?
Mr. Kraft, what did you do with your wheelchair?
What? Oh, look.
There's Sabrina.
Who's that with her?
Someone who looks like...
Harvey?
LIBBY: And you?
MRS. QUICK: And me.
Hi!
I could've been pulling down 80 grand a year
selling gold over the phone.
But no, I had to teach.
Okay.
Turn it off.
Delighted.
What's the procedure here, Mrs. Doohickey?
I only make things blow up.
I don't know how to stop them from blowing up.
I don't know which wire to cut.
Oh, no. My characters don't know what to do.
That's because they don't know why they're doing
what they're doing. Darn character development.
Um,...okay.
Derek Kink's father wanted him to go into the family business:
corn.
But Kink loved science.
Against his family's wishes,
he joined the Bomb Disposal Unit of the FBI.
Does anyone have a pair
of 178-millimeter insulated wire cutters?
( sighs )
( ominous theme playing )
( blows )
I believe you are all my prisoners.
You don't understand. There's only a few seconds left.
If-- If Derek doesn't disarm the bomb,
we're all gonna die.
Then we will all die together.
( cackling )
Sabrina Spellman, This is Mr. Kraft.
Come out with your hands behind your head.
DR. BAD: Don't move.
Well, come on, Kinkle.
A separated shoulder won't hurt you.
( groans )
DR. BAD: Hey!
SABRINA: The wire. The wire.
KINK: I've got it.
This is all going on your permanent record, young lady.
The end.
( both grunt )
Three weeks detention,
starting this afternoon.
( poppy theme playing )
( grits teeth ): Another happy ending.
So I saved the school from blowing up,
and I rewrote my story in detention.
Teacher gave me a B-minus.
It's not an A, but it's not a C either.
I always feel the minus part is personal.
I'm just glad you realized that
because you're not great at something
doesn't mean you can't learn from it and have fun with it.
That's what I always say about dating.
But I never learn anything, and I don't have fun.
Wait a minute.
So you're saying I'm not a great writer?
Well...
you see... ( toaster dings )
Oh, my. There's toast.
Oh, it's from the Other Realm postmaster.
He says they caught the person who started that chain letter,
and he's been dealt with accordingly.
Good. What kind of a foul fiend would abuse the mails?
I was just reaching out to people.
Oh, dear. The postmaster also says that
because we sent chain letters ourselves,
we have to be punished too.
But--
I loved you in The Wizard of Oz.
Fly. Fly.