05x13 - Thou Callest Me a Dog/Martha's Paper Chase

[bunniefuu]

♪ Martha was an average dog. ♪

♪ She went... and... and... ♪
(barking, growls)

♪ When she ate
some alphabet soup ♪

♪ Then what happened
was bizarre... ♪

On the way to Martha's stomach,
the letters lost their way.

They traveled to her brain,
and now...

♪ She's got a lot to say ♪

♪ Now she speaks... ♪

How now, brown cow?

♪ Martha speaks ♪

♪ Yeah, she speaks
and speaks and speaks ♪

♪ And speaks and speaks... ♪

What's a caboose?

When are we eating again?

♪ Martha speaks... ♪

Hey, Joe, what do you know?

My name's not Joe.

♪ She's not always right, but
still that Martha speaks... ♪

Hi, there.

♪ She's got a voice,
she's ready to shout ♪

♪ Martha will tell you
what it's all about ♪

♪ Sometimes wrong,
but seldom in doubt ♪

♪ Martha will tell you
what it's all about ♪

♪ That dog's unique... ♪

Testing, one, two.

♪ Hear her speak ♪

♪ Martha speaks and speaks
and speaks and speaks and... ♪

♪ Communicates, enumerates,
elucidates, exaggerates ♪

♪ Indicates and explicates ♪

♪ Bloviates and overstates
and... ♪

(panting)

♪ Hyperventilates. ♪

♪ Martha-- to reiterate--
Martha speaks. ♪

MAh, what a fair spot
for an actor to study his lines

and partake of his sandwich!

(phone ringing)

Armin Burbage here.

What?!

No, that's unacceptable.

Spring water and mineral water
are not the same thing,

Mr. Wuzzlegrift.

There are certain things
an actor requires

in order to immerse himself
in the role...

(humming)

(gasps)

A sandwich!

Someone must have
left it behind.

No point in letting it
go to waste.

Ah...

I'm glad we've come
to an understanding,

Mr. Whistlegrass.

I'll see you at rehearsal.

(gasps)

My sandwich!

Was that yours? Sorry.

You ate the play as well?

Huh!

I thought it tasted papery,

but once I start eating,
it's hard to put on the brakes.

A talking dog that eats
Shakespeare.

Either these woods are enchanted
or I've been working too hard.

Uh... who are you
talking to?

Just myself.

I was delivering
a soliloquy.

A soliloquy?

Yes, in a play,
a soliloquy is when

an actor says what
he is thinking out loud

so that the people
watching the play

know what he is
thinking, and...

Why am I explaining
this to a dog?

I really am losing my mind.

Well, I guess I owe you a play,
Mister...?

Armin Burbage.

Actor.

At your service.

You also owe me
a sandwich.

Right.

I'll take you to the bookstore
and then the deli.

I don't know, Pablum.

There must be an easier way
to make millions

than putting on a play.

Nonsense.

Hamlet may be
over years old,

but it's one
of William Shakespeare's

most popular plays.

And with Armin Burbage in the
lead role, how can we fail?

(phone rings)

It's him again.

Hello?

It's Weaselgraft,
Mr. Burbage,

not Wizardcraft.

(fast talking on phone)

But I can't make your dressing
room any bigger.

All right, all right, I'll see
if we can knock down a wall.

I'm the producer of this play.

The producer is in charge
of everyone and everything

in the play.

But the only thing I seem to be
in charge of is complaints.

Someone has
to do it, Otis.

(groans)

(Martha yawning)

Good morrow,
hairy jackanape.

(confused bark)

All Hail, good people.

Tis time to fill
mine hollow hungersack.

Praytell, wherefore art mine
victuals wondrous and soupy?

Huh?

What odd words
hath I just uttered?

Verily, they be foreign
even to mine own ears.

Martha, did you eat something
weird yesterday?

Nay.

Why thinkest thou so?

Because when you ate Polish
soup, you spoke in Polish.

And when you ate a musical
score, you sang.

Well, um, let's
take a look at you.

Open your mouth
and say, "Ahhh..."

Ahh...

Alas, poor Yorick,
I knew him, Horatio.

Just as I suspected.

Looks like you've eaten
some Shakespeare.

'Twas merely a play,
seasoned with cured meats.

Oh, brother.

Shakespeare was a playwright

who lived a long time ago
when English was different.

You must have eaten
one of his plays.

Judging from the Yorick line,
I'd say it was Hamlet.

'Tis a most strange affliction.

What cure dost thou recommend?

Plenty of water and rest.

And try not to eat
any more literature.

Come see Hamlet,
opening next week.

Featuring the great
Armin Burbage.

Winklegrits, I want fresh
peonies in my dressing room,

not these scentless weeds.

And my name should be
two inches bigger.

Make it so.

(groans):
I'd like to...

MARTHA:
Good morrow, your ladyship.

The sun doth bless
thy countenance.

Dogs should not be
speaking Shakespeare.

They should say "woof"
and "arf" and that's it.

TD:
I love the way
Martha speaks now.

You haven't heard one
of her monologues yet.

She can go on for hours.

What savory aroma
doth beguile mine senses?

Tis the meat-mongery
of butcher Karl.

Shall we thither to nibble
delicacies toothsome and divine?

Nay, answer not.

For mine baser urges draw me on.

Exeunt severally.

I see what you mean.

(laughing evilly)

Pablum?

I think I've just found a way
to double our profits.

♪ Blithe and bonny,
la la la... ♪

What?

Where is my star?

"New Dressing Room This Way."

Well, it's about time.

♪ Hey, nonny, nonny... ♪

Is this some kind of joke?

Huh?

Who closed that door?

Let me out!

I command you!

Oh, dear, it seems to be stuck,
Mr. Burbage.

I'll go fetch a locksmith.

(whispering):
After the play closes.

Nincompoops!

Are you sure the dog
is up to the task?

Trust me.

She's a natural.

(thunder rumbling)

Alas, no light
through yonder window breaks

and the sky doth release
her heavy tears.

Blow, winds.

cr*ck your cheeks. Blow.

Would that I had a chew toy
to passeth the time.

Martha, could you
keep it down?

Likest thou not my dialogue?

It's not dialogue.

In a dialogue,
two people are talking.

You're just talking
to yourself.

That is a monologue.

Ah, but 'tis a dialogue now.

You talketh backeth.

Yes, but I also tryeth
to do mineth homework.

(phone ringing)

Hark! The clarion.

I shall attend to it, m'lady.

(sighs)

Hail.

Lorraine Castle.

(gasps)

Nay.

Verily?

Zounds!

'Twas a producer.

He wanteth me to playeth
a ham upon the stage.

A ham?

Wait, 'twas something
smaller than a ham.

Ah yes, a ham-let.

I must to the theater hence.

Good-day, fair maiden.

Come see Hamlet,
opening this weekend.

I was just told that
the great Armin Burbage

has been replaced
by a talking dog.

I want my money back.

Oh, but she's
illiant, madam.

A real natural.

You won't be disappointed.

I guarantee it.

Sounds very modern.

It had better be good.

How's the dog doing,
director?

Excellent!

How are ticket sales,
producer?

The run is almost
completely sold out.

And I've doubled the price.

(phone beeps)

(groans)

I have to go.

It's him.

Hello, Mr. Burbage.

Did you get the pizza and books
I slid under the door?

Yes, but you gave me some
horrible study guide to Hamlet,

not the real thing.

Now where is
that locksmith?

Oh, I think
I see him now.

Gotta go.

All right, people.

Let's take it
from Hamlet's entrance,

Act three, Scene one.

To be, or not to be:
that is the question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind

to put up with the slingshots
and arrows of bad luck

or just, you know, bite back
and show them your teeth.

Stop! Stop!

We've rehearsed this soliloquy.

I thought you had it memorized.

I thought so, too.

Excuseth me, Mr. Director.

I feeleth sicketh.

Yay, verily.

(coughing)

And now my Shakespeare
is almost all gone

and the play openeth
in a few days.

What am I going to doeth?

Hey!

This is a dialogue,
not a monologue.

Talk to me.

Relax.

We just have to feed you
some more Shakespeare.

I don't have any here,
and the bookstore is closed.

But we must
get it quickly.

It taketh a day to work

and I've already missed
one rehearsal.

Wait!

I think my dad has a copy
of another Shakespeare play,

The Merchant of Venice.

I know it's not the same,
but it might work.

Wait here.

I put ketchup on it
so it'd taste better.

Didn't have any luncheon meat
lying around?

Martha!

Okay, okay.

(chewing loudly)

A little pulpy,
but not bad.

All right, Martha, let's hear
Hamlet's soliloquy again.

Back, Minions of Zorn,

or I'll pulverize
those tentacles

with this evaporation ray.

(gasps)

Uh, still sicketh.

(coughing)

Cougheth.

I'm sorry.

My dad's a big
science fiction buff.

I thought it said
The Merchant of Venice

but it turns out it was
The Merchant of Venus.

May the cyberworms of Gamalor
devour your heart crystals.

Don't worry.

Helen's at the bookstore
right now.

You still have a whole day
before the show opens.

(panting)

Hamlet!

I need a copy of Hamlet
right now.

Check in Classics.

There might be
one copy left.

Ah.

(chewing loudly)

Blech.

Tastes worse than the bile ducts
of Venutian slugs.

You're sure it was Hamlet?

By William Shakespeare?

Yes, it was right there
on the cover.

All we can do now is wait.

Well? Did it work?

I'm not sure.

She's been really
quiet all day.

This morning, she said she
wanted to rest her voice.

Maybe we should
check on her.

PABLUM:
Ten minutes
to curtain, Martha.

Martha?

Where are you?

ARMIN BURBAGE:
Is that you,
Whipplegrits?

Um, excuse me, have you
seen Martha anywhere?

She's the star of the play.

ARMIN BURBAGE:
What?!

I'm the star
of the play!

Open this door!

Where's that producer?

Letting me languish in there.

Oh, I'll show him!

(gasps):
He's out!

Weaselgraft and Pablum!

You two locked him in there,
didn't you?

Unto the breach,
dear friends.

Charge!

(grunting)

You're on.

Break a leg!

(laughs nervously)

Aha!

Whoa!

(sneezes)

Now, where is this imposter
who is playing Hamlet?

That would be my dog, Martha.

She ate a play,
woke up speaking Shakespeare

and was offered the part
when you were stuck in there.

Hey, this is the copy of Hamlet
we fed her yesterday.

That's not Hamlet.

That's merely a guide

that summarizes the plot
and major themes.

Students use it.

(gasps)

And so the ghost tells Hamlet,

"Hey, you better clean up
this mess,"

which brings up the topic
of existential guilt

for the first time
in the play...

This is terrible!

I want to see Armin Burbage.

(crowd chanting):
Bur-bage! Bur-bage!

Speak the speech,
I pray you,

as I pronounced it to you,
trippingly on the tongue.

(cheering)

Here's my bill.

(gasps)

We're ruined!

Actually, I really liked
being on stage.

Maybe I should eat
some more plays.

Sure, just so long
as there's no dialogue,

monologues
or soliloquies in them.

That'd be a pretty
quiet play.

Exactly.

Get your Town Crier here!

Hello, sir.

Care to read the latest
breaking news?

MARTHA:
"Wagstaff City
Suffers News Drought."

It's a riveting piece

about the recent lack
of exciting stories

and how local papers are
struggling to survive.

No, thanks.

(sighs)

How many papers have we sold?

Just two.

This is the third week in a row
of weak sales.

If we don't get
a good story soon,

I'll have to shut
the paper down.

I don't get it.

Why are people still buying
the Ronald Report?

And when the kid opened
the bag of pretzels,

the bat was still alive.

We have proof.

Look at those
itty-bitty teeth marks.

CAROLINA:
It's because Ronald
and Reginald

don't care about
verifying the facts.

They'll publish anything.

(laughing)

Maybe we shouldn't care about
verifying our facts either,

whatever that means.

No podemos!

We can't do that.

To verify something means to
check and make sure it's true.

And as an editor-in-chief,
I will only publish the truth.

I guess we better hope the truth
gets more interesting.

(thunder rumbling)

Get your rain hats here!

Cheap, recyclable
rain hats!

All right, Skits,
it's up to us.

If we don't find an exciting
story for Carolina,

the paper will close.

So let's get out there
and find a topic.

(growling)

No, Skits.

That's a rake.

A topic is a subject
people are talking about.

(barking)

Yeah, I know a rake is a good
topic for gardeners,

but we're looking for a topic
everyone will care about.

Like crime.

Come on.

MARTHA:
What?

Not even one little robbery?

It's been an unusually
slow week.

We've even had to change
the "Wanted" posters

to "It'd Be Nice to Get"
posters.

Let's try the fire department.

(barking)

(meowing)

(excited barking)

I like Courageous
Collie Carlo too,

but this is not helping us.

Maybe we should ask some
regular folks for stories.

And it's the biggest pumpkin
I've ever seen.

I bet it weighs at least a ton.

And you can
quote me on that.

TD, we've already
done that story, remember?

And the pumpkin was pounds,
not a ton.

Maybe it's gotten bigger.

(barking angrily)

MARTHA:
Weaselgraft and Pablum?

You're right, Skits.

I bet they are up to no good.

Let's follow them.

I wonder what
they could be doing

all the way out here
in the woods?

(growling)

Huh? Looking for a plant

that'll turn people
into obedient zombies?

It's farfetched, but I
wouldn't put it past them.

There it is!

Just what we need!

Aha!

Caught you red-handed,
Weaselgraft.

Drop those mind-controlling
plants.

And if you can give us a quote
we can publish,

that'd be great too.

These aren't
mind-controlling plants.

They're wildflowers.

It's his mother's
birthday.

Are there mind-controlling
plants around here?

No, there's no...

Forget it.

We could make millions
off such a plant.

Spread out!

Well, we tried our best,

but I don't think we found
anything Carolina can...

(loud thumping)

What was that?

(gasping)

(friendly roaring)

Big Minnie!

So this is where you live.

Charmingly rustic.

(shutter clicks)

(roaring)

What, no pictures?

Why? You look great.

Love the hair.

(grumbling)

You want to protect
your privacy.

Oh, okay.

We'll delete the photo.

When we find someone
who knows how.

I wouldn't worry, though.

Most people don't even think
you exist.

(roaring)

Oh, bark cookies?

Don't mind if I do.

(chewing loudly)

Crunchy.

And so rich in fiber.

"I've got you cornered, Lewis."

"Ah! Unhand me, Clark."

MARTHA:
It's going to be
the biggest story ever.

An intimate interview with Big
Minnie in her very own home.

And we even have a photograph
to prove it!

(barking)

Oh, yeah, I did say
I'd delete that photo.

(barking)

Right, Big Minnie said she
wanted to protect her privacy.

(sighs)

I guess we'll just have to keep
looking for another story.

(phone dialing)

Get over here, quick!

We just got our next big scoop.

Well, dogs, whaddya got?

Okay.

TD's pumpkin
may have gotten bigger.

That's it?

You want that old story
to be our big topic,

our main event splashed
across the front page?

Uh, maybe not.

But for the Gardening section.

We don't have
a Gardening section.

Right, I forgot.

This is terrible.

It's : and we don't have
a feature story to print.

We're sunk.

Um, well, we did have
another topic,

something that would make
a great feature story, but...

What? What is it?

Spit it out!

(groans)

I can't.

My friend is very private.

Hmm...

And what if I gave you
a piece of ham?

I am not going to betray
my friend for a piece of ham.

I see.

Well, I respect
your integrity.

How about
the whole sandwich?

(groaning)

Must! Resist! Editor!

Oh.

We know where Big Minnie lives.

We were just with her.

How's that for a story?

Hey! A deal's a deal.

Why should I believe you?

Big Minnie's just some
fairy tale, right?

No, she's real.

Can you verify this story?

You bet I can verify it.

Show her the photo, Skits.

(gasps)

Where was this
picture taken?

On the north edge
of Dog Head Lake,

in the woods
beyond the picnic tables.

But we can't run the story and
you have to erase that picture.

Big Minnie said, and I quote...

(roaring)

Which means "I like my privacy"
in monster.

We'll change her name.

And we won't be specific
about where she lives.

Don't worry,
it'll be fine.

Big Minnie is real.

This is the biggest
story ever!

Suddenly I'm not
hungry anymore.

(snickering)

CAROLINA:
And we won't be specific
about where she lives.

Well, you might not
get specific, but I will.

Did you see the photo
of Big Minnie?

No, so I can't confirm
the facts of the story.

(laughs)

"Confirm" means
make sure it's true.

Reginald, when have we ever
confirmed our facts?

Excellent point.

Well? What are you waiting for?

Start writing.

Why do I have to write it?

Because I'm
the editor, Reginald.

Editors edit.

Reporters write.

We'll scoop Carolina
by putting a free copy

on every doorstep
tomorrow morning.

When people read the story
in my paper first,

Carolina's paper
will just be old news.

Then there'll only be one kid's
newspaper in this town: mine.

And that's a fact I can confirm.

(laughing evilly)

(yawning)

All done.

I'll print it in the morning.

(snoring)

CROWD:
Hey, Minnie!

(roaring)

(tapping)

What are all these people
doing here?

They're here to see Big Minnie.

Everyone figured out that
"Large Louise" in your article

was really her.

Then it was only
a matter of time

before they discovered her home
in the forest.

(roaring angrily)

(people screaming)

What's she's saying?

She says this is
all your fault.

Big Minnie, I'm really sorry.

I didn't know this would happen.

You better run.

She said that?

No, I said that.

(screaming)

(roaring)

(gasps)

(doorbell rings)

Huh?

We've got trouble.

(gasps)

Big Minnie found out?

I told you we shouldn't have
published that story.

I didn't.

Really? Why not?

Because the Town Crier
has integrity.

Integrity means you always try
to do the right thing,

like respect people's privacy.

Technically, Big Minnie
is a monster, not a person.

I know, but she has a right
to privacy too,

and as an editor with integrity,
I have to respect that.

But there's a certain paper
that has no integrity

called The Ronald Report,

and they stole our story
and published it.

(blows raspberry)

That doesn't look a thing
like her.

Maybe not, but they wrote
about where she lives.

And they've left free copies
on people's doorsteps.

(gasps)

We have to get
those papers back

before people find out
where Big Minnie lives!

Skits, wake up!

It's an emergency!

(barking)

(barking)

(barking)

(barking)

Burt, Rinty,
you take East Wagstaff.

Cisco and John,
you cover the Tenderloin.

All right, everyone,
get those papers!

Mush! Mush!

(dogs barking)

Uh, hi!

Just cleaning your porch.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Look at all this litter.

People are starting to wake up.

I had to buy this one
off of Mrs. Clusky.

We need more paws
on the job.

But where to...

Oh, that's it!

Martha, you're a genius.

We just want to behave
with integrity

and do the right thing.

What do you say?

Will you help us?

(snorting)

Honey, I'm calling in sick!

That's it.

The last one.

Oh wait, those are
the last ones.

Thanks, Gia.

See you at the zoo.

Hey, you stole
all those free papers.

Well, you stole our story.

A story that an editor
with integrity

would never publish anyway.

And that's why no one
buys your paper.

"Integrity."

"Confirming facts."

"Verifying your sources."

Don't you get it?

People just want to be
entertained.

What are you doing?

You'll see.

Hello, News Hotline?

Have I got a tip for you.

(gasping)

Here, on the north edge
of Dog Head Lake,

you are about to witness
history in the making.

Behold, the home of Big Minnie!

(growling)

What?

Where's Big Minnie?

What have you done with her?

Get off!

I'm telling the truth.

And I can confirm it.

Just ask her.

She has a picture.

(camera beeps)

What picture?

She deleted it.

Right after the dogs
and the giraffe

stole all my other papers.

Just ask that dog,
she'll tell you.

(confused barking)

You have to believe me.

I'm telling the truth.

(whispering):
This way.

I'm sorry you had to move homes.

I'm just glad we could reach you
in time to warn you.

(growling softly)

She says that's all right.

The south edge of Dog Head Lake
has great light,

and this is a bigger cave.

And thanks for giving us
another story.

"How to Make a Gourmet Meal

out of Things You Find
in the Forest."

I think it'll be riveting.

Is there anything we can do
for you in return?

(growling)

Publish the paper online.

It'll use less trees.

Hi! Did I miss anything?

or check out your local library

for the Martha Speaks books.