04x12 - Dear Diary

[bunniefuu]

♪ Maybe the world is blind

♪ Or just a little unkind

♪ Don't know

♪ Seems you can't be sure

♪ Of anything anymore

♪ Although

♪ You may be lonely

♪ And then one day
you're smilin' again ♪

♪ Every time I turn around

♪ I see the girl
who turns my world around ♪

♪ Standing there

♪ Every time I turn around

♪ Her spirit's lifting me
right off the ground ♪

♪ What's gonna be?

♪ Guess we'll just wait
and see ♪♪

Dear diary.

Today I went to school.

Came home.

Had meatloaf.

The meatloaf had onion, celery,

green peppers
and little red things in it.

As you can tell,
my life is even more boring

than my meatloaf.

Catching up
on the whole week, Cherie?

No, this is just today's entry.

Oops!

Do you mind?

Mind what?

Now the gravy on my meatloaf
was really exciting.

No, it wasn't. It was brown.

I'm trying to concentrate.

I'm sorry.

Cherie, you've been
writing forever.

You're gonna get finger fatigue
and brain drain.

Well, it's better
than motormouth.

Now please, I've only written
eight pages single-spaced.

That's seven and a half pages
more than I've written.

Stop trying to read my diary.

I'll be glad to as soon as
you tell me what you're writing.

I can't tell you.
It's personal.

So?

You've told me
personal things before.

That was before.
This is now.

Now is different than before.

That's why
they're separate words.

I definitely saw the name
Jimmy in there.

Are you writing about my Jimmy?

He's not your Jimmy.

You know I like him and that
it's almost nearly certain

that he likes me.

What did you write about him?

Punky, reading
other people's diaries

is a federal offense.

You want me to call the FBI?

Look, a duck!

Where?

You sneak! Come back here!

"And when Jimmy asked me
about Punky,

I had to tell him that--"

- Give me that!
- You had to tell Jimmy what?

It's none of your business.

It is, too, my business.

It's about me and Jimmy.

It's my diary.

Yeah, but it's my life.

Yeah, but it's my handwriting.

Come on.
I'll let you read my diary.

All nine volumes illustrated.

Yeah, with stick pictures
of Brandon.

Give up, Punky.
I'm going to sleep.

Okay, we'll go to sleep.

- Fine!
- Fine!

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight!

Put it back, Punky!

We're simply running out
of closet space, Brandon.

But the problem is,
the older I get,

the harder it is to part
with the treasures

I've accumulated.

"Memories,
a precious baggage

that mortal man
doth carry ever."

I think Shakespeare said that.

It was Joan Rivers?

Look, Brandon.

I started my hat collection
with this.

What do you think?

Well, I like it.

You have no sentiment.

I'm gonna get more of my hats.

Henry?

Be right with you!
Grab a seat!

If I can find one.

These things
are impossible to play.

Brandon, those lessons paid off.

Henry, I don't have all day.

They got a two-for-one sale on
at the hardware store.

You wanna go? You're cheap.

I can't. I'm busy right now.

Hi, Henry.

New summer outfit?

It's part of all the memorabilia
that I'm considering

getting rid of.

You're actually throwing away
all your junk?

Well, some of it.
But my hats mean so much to me.

I got this one
on my first tour of duty

as merchant seaman in Zanzibar.

Lord.

And I got this tam-o'-Shanter
when my ship sailed to Scotland.

Lord.

Then on to Marseille, France,

where I got
this beret.

- Lord.
- That's right.

I got this yarmulke
in Jerusalem.

Shalom, baby.

Henry, get rid of 'em.

They're just taking up
valuable space.

Only a packrat
would save old hats,

swizzle sticks
and this monstrosity.

Monstrosity?
I'll have you know

this is an original
Chingyang-Yangching oil lamp

made of cow poo bamboo.

Morning.

Well, it's about time
you got up.

Are you feeling okay?

Yeah, I just had
a little trouble

getting to sleep last night.

Where's Cherie?

She went upstairs
to finish writing

something in her diary.

Really?
You wouldn't happen to know

what she's writing about,
would you?

No, I have no idea.

Of course,
you do have a right to know.

I mean, you are her grandmother
and she is under .

True, but a diary
is personal and private.

You really believe that?

No, but Cherie won't let me
read it either.

So, Punky,
what are your plans today?

Cherie and I are gonna meet
Margaux at the mall.

And then?

And then we'll, like, hang out!

I see.

Betty, how would you like
to have a cup of coffee

and, like, hang out?

Sounds good to me.

In fact, I'll give you
a couple of, donuts

and then you'll really hang out.

Hello.

Hi.

Ready to go to the mall?

- Yep. Here's your stuff.
- Thank you.

So should we walk
or take the bus?

- Doesn't matter to me.
- Doesn't matter to me either.

Cherie, are you mad
about last night?

Well, you really shouldn't have
tried to read my diary.

I know.

I just saw Jimmy's name
and went crazy.

Okay. I understand.

So I promise I won't try to read
your diary anymore.

Alright!

Unless you want me
to check your spelling.

Forget it.

- Fine.
- Fine.

I'll just go say goodbye
to my grandma.

I can't help it.
It's about Jimmy.

He'd want me to know
what it says.

Let's go!

You're not bringing all that
stuff with you, are you?

No, I'm gonna take it up
to my place.

That way
you wouldn't be tempted

to sneak another look
at my diary.

Cherie, I told you
I'm over that.

I'm glad. Be right down.

I'll just put the diary
in the keep box for safekeeping.

Don't you dare bark a word
of this to anyone.

Henry, this stuff is junk.
Get rid of it.

Maybe you're right.

I know I am. And start with
that stupid grass skirt.

This?

If you don't,
I'll take a weed whacker to it.

Henry, ask yourself.

Do you own this stuff
or does it own you?

Alright, alright.
I am being obsessive.

I'll get rid of both boxes.

And don't forget this.

What? My genuine
Chingyang-Yangching

made of cow poo bamboo?

Learn to let go, Warnimont.
Come on.

Okay.

I know how you feel, boy.

It's like losing an old friend.

But trust me.

Once all this stuff is gone,
nobody will ever miss it.

What's the big rush?

I've gotta read Cherie's diary
before she gets back.

That's untrustworthy
and despicable.

- You're in it too.
- Quick! Where is it?

Hi, girls.

- Where's Cherie?
- We split up at the mall.

She's gonna meet us here
in a little while.

Where are the boxes?

I finally convinced
this old packrat

to part with all that junk
he was collecting.

All of it?

Both boxes?

I hate to admit it,
but she was right.

Out with the old,
in with the new.

Out?
You threw out the keep box?

Everything.

May it rest in peace
in the dumpster.

- Isn't it great?
- No!

Come on, we've gotta hurry up.

Cherie will be back at : .

Come on, crawl in.

You can't possibly
be talking to me.

You're the only other one here.

I am not
one of "The Little Rascals."

You said all I had to do
is be the lookout

and that's all I intend to do.

Whatever you say.

Wow! How did this giant diamond
get in here?

Diamond?

That is not a diamond.

It's a flash cube.

You tricked me, Brewster.

Margaux, if I don't get
Cherie's diary back,

she's gonna k*ll me.

And let's face it, you can't
afford to lose any friends.

There's a point.

Help me sort through this stuff.
Pretend it's a scavenger hunt.

What's that noise?

It's probably
just a passing truck.

Or incoming garbage.

This is it!

Hands down, this is the most
disgusting situation

you've ever dragged me into.

- Margaux, I'm sorry--
- No, wait!

I remember the time
you forced me to hijack a pig.

And the time
I was covered in rash

from buying
your beauty products.

But this?
This is definitely

your most disgusting caper!

Look, Margaux, I realize that...

There's a familiar sound.

Hey, Margaux.

Who did your hair?
Chef Boy-ar-dee?

Just remember one thing, Punky.

I'm rich.
I can afford a hitman.

Hey,
here's Mr. Griswold's trash.

How do you know that?

Here's his mail.

Poor guy, Henry says
he's a confirmed bachelor.

So he's lonely
a lot of the time.

Not all of the time.

Okay, let's find that diary.
We haven't got much time.

Alright!

Here's the diary!

This better be good.

"And when Jimmy asked me
about Punky,

I had to tell him that
she's two-faced and snobby!"

Ooh, this is good.

"She's also boring, dumb

and the worst dresser
in Chicago."

She's got you nailed there.

I can't believe this.

She's supposed to be
my best friend.

She doesn't leave much for
your enemies to say about you.

No wonder she didn't wanna
show it to me.

I'm going upstairs and give her
a piece of my mind!

You go ahead, I'm gonna go home
and get steam cleaned.

Come on!

Come on! Got it?

Okay.

You!

My gosh, what happened?

Don't try to change the subject.

You! You!

You, you, you, you!

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about this!

A banana peel?

No, no. I mean... this!

My diary!
How'd you get that?

Doesn't matter how I got it.

It's what's in it
that bothers me.

That's really low, Punky.
Some best friend.

Don't give me best friend!

Would a best friend write this?

"And when Jimmy asked me
about Punky

I had to tell him that
she's two-faced and snobby."

Or would a best friend
write this?

"She's also boring, dumb

and the worst dresser
in Chicago?"

Punky--

Or would a best friend
write this?

"And worse of all,
you're incredibly nosy

and that's how I know
you're reading this right now."

Keep reading.

"And since I knew
you wouldn't leave it alone,

I made this fake diary
to teach you a lesson."

Boy, is my face red.

Yeah, what is it?
Spaghetti sauce?

You wanna read the real diary?

No, I shouldn't really.

- Okay, suit yourself.
- But if you insist.

"And when Jimmy asked me
about Punky

I told him that...

She's much too good
for you..."

She's the best
possible friend

anyone could have..."

She's loyal...

She's trustworthy and..."

Gee, Cherie, this is so good,
it's embarrassing.

I'm a ten.

Actually, you're .

You're continued
on the next page.

I'm sorry, Cherie.
I feel terrible.

And I've learned my lesson.

I'll never let my curiosity
turn me into a monster again.

Good, Punkenstein.

But there's one thing
I don't understand.

If it was so good all along,

why didn't you want me
to read it?

Well, you know, writing
all that gushy stuff,

it was embarrassing.

You're the best.

- Punky.
- What?

You're getting spaghetti sauce
on my ear.

- Sorry.
- Hello, girls.

Punky, what's happened to you?

You look like you've been
in the dumpster.

It's a long story.

Come in.

Hi, everyone.

Come on, Cherie.
Let's get cleaned up for dinner.

My Chingyang-Yangching lamp.

Not anymore.

Now it's my Chingyang
Walla-Walla-Bing-Bang lamp.

- What do you mean?
- Well, you threw it away.

I just happened to find it
in the dumpster.

Now it's Betty's lamp.

You viper, you talked me
into throwing it away.

You schnook! You fell for it.

I've been havin' my eye on this
beauty for years.

Give me that lamp!