02x07 - The Age of Harriet

[bunniefuu]

With Ole Golly gone,
I thought I'd be a basket case.

But weirdly, I was feeling great.

You know when you first get
into a new car,

and you smell that new car smell?

It kinda felt
like my whole life had that smell.

To give myself a final test,

I decided to open the door
to Ole Golly's old bedroom.

If I didn't start weeping
and pulling my hair out,

that would mean I was ready
to begin the age of Harriet.

Thank you very much.

Good morning, Harriet.

Top of the morning to ya, Harriet.

How's my favorite daughter
this fine morning?

You can always tell
how worried your parents are about you...

Don't worry
about your famous tomato sandwich.

...by how weirdly chipper they are.

Super Mom is on the case.

Actually, Super Mom,
I like it on the diagonal.

Of course.

How could I forget? Just--

Practice makes perfect.

Mom, it was a great 5,027 sandwich ride
with Ole Golly,

but now it's time to move on
and try something new.

Like hot lunch.

That is a great idea.

I've got a million of them.

Gotta go.

Can't beat that new life smell.

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

I decided I needed a theme song
to launch the age of Harriet.

Kaboom.

Are you okay?

Never better.

"Never better," never better?

Or never better, "I miss Ole Golly,

and I'ma start crying
and screaming like a loon?"

What are you doing?

Trying to touch my nose
with my tongue.

Never done it before.

Good morning, my brave young thespians.

Cool! I did it.

Class has begun, Harriet.

Sorry, Ms. Elson.

As you all know,
Fall Harvest Day is almost here.

Time for us to celebrate
with our annual class play.

Now, who has an idea?

Why bother?

Every year, Ms. Elson asked
for suggestions,

and every year she always picked one
of Marion's crummy ideas.

Everyone had a theory
for why Ms. Elson couldn't say no

to Marion.

- Two words. Mind--
- Control.

I heard that Marion bribes her

with Tater Tots.

Why are you asking me? I don't know.

Why would you think I would know?

Actually, I heard that--

Hi, Marion. I was just keeping
the seat warm for ya.

I think we're done now.

Let's do something with pirates. Or bears.

How about Madam Curie
and her husband discovering radium

and true love?

Or pirates and bears.

Since the holiday celebrates
the coming of winter,

why don't we do something
about keeping warm?

Yeah, we could do a salute to mittens.

Or when you stand above a subway grate
when the train goes by,

and that warm wind blows up your pants.

That's what I was gonna say.

- Same--
- Wavelength.

Anyone else?

What can I say?
There's a first for everything.

Yes, Harriet.

Since we always have a big roast chicken
for dinner on Fall Harvest Day

and we're studying the Trojan w*r
in history,

what if we make a big Trojan chicken
that the Greeks gift to the Trojans?

And just when they're ready to chow down,
they all get sneak attacked.

I could see it now.
My play would be a hit at school,

then go to Broadway,

then Montreal
where Ole Golly would see it.

Marion, stop keeping us in suspense.

I suggest we honor the holiday
by being all the things we eat

at the Fall Harvest feast.

It's topical, original,
and besides,

I already wrote the whole play.

Clearly, Ms. Elson had not heard the news

that this was the age of Harriet.

Brava, Marion.

I'm guessing you'd like
to play the roasted chicken.

Perfect.

Rachel and Beth Ellen,
I see you two as the drumsticks.

Mr. Matthews and Pinky,
you can be the yams.

Carrie, I see you as a brussels sprout.

Janie and Sport would make
wonderful Tater Tots.

Harriet, what would you say
about being the onion?

I would say, "No,

and no. PS. No."

Oh, no. Harriet, that's ridiculous.

Onions are beautiful.

They're stinky, and they make people cry.

There's a lot more than meets the eye.

What are you trying to do?

Ms. Elson told me
that to truly be an onion,

you have to learn to fall
in a rolling way like an onion does.

Is this for the Fall Harvest play?

No, I'm being an onion just
for the heck of it.

I was just asking.

What's going on here?

She's being an onion.

A good director would say
that to be an onion,

you have to feel like an onion.

Do you feel like an onion?

Not in the least.

Honey, you need to feel like an onion.

I don't want to be an onion.

And it's a good thing.

How many parts are written
for onions these days?

You're so smart.

Let's see you fall
in a rolling way like an onion.

Don't mind if I do.

Are you feeling like an onion?

I'm trying to,
but closest I can get is a scallion.

Sorry.

If you think it's so funny,
why don't you give it a try?

Maybe I will.

Now that I've been an onion,

I wonder what it would be like
to be a table.

Or a bathtub. Or another person.

I wonder what Ole Golly would say to that.

Ole Golly kinda looked like a bird
with teeth,

but I think I really look a little
like an onion.

After that disaster,
I decided that to fully onionize myself,

I needed to do more research.

Because I have a higher sulfur content,

the yellow onion is known
for having a more complex flavor.

Because I have a low sulfur content,

the Bermuda onion is famous
for having a much sweeter taste.

Don't listen to those doofuses.

If you want a sweeter taste
and a more complex flavor,

you got one choice. The--

- The Bermuda onion.
- No, the--

Yellow onion. In your face.

No, the Vidalia.

Then, I got some books out at the library

and learned all kinds
of fascinating stuff.

Did you know that New York City used
to be called the Big Onion?

Because it was a place
where you could peel off

layer after layer
without ever reaching its core.

Or that the ancient Egyptians
worshipped the onion.

And believed its spherical shape

and concentric circles
symbolized eternity.

The more I read,

the more I began to understand
one of Ole Golly's famous quotes.

Dostoyevsky said,

"If you love everything,

you will perceive the divine mystery
in all things."

The next day
when we got our costumes,

I wondered
what Dostoyevsky would have said

if he had seen me
in my ridiculous onion costume.

At least it had a secret pocket
to hide my notebook.

And it didn't make me itch like a maniac.

Or Carrie Andrews'
brussels sprout costume,

which seemed okay except
for one bizarre detail.

Why does this thing smell
like brussels sprouts?

Pinky and Purple Socks arrived
in their matching yam costumes.

You look "yam-tastic."

You look "yam-tabulous."

Rachel and Beth Ellen
came as drumsticks.

I'm gonna fall. Catch me.

Right. Sorry, Beth Ellen. No arms.

As you might expect,

Marion's chicken roast costume was
by far the most fabulous.

What? Doesn't everyone have a great aunt
who makes costumes for Broadway plays?

First of all, let me say,
you all look good enough to eat.

Good enough to eat.

You gonna help me up,
or do I have to put you on the list?

Rachel had a long list
of all the people

she was going to eventually
get revenge on.

Mr. Horatio.

Thanks, Mr. Horatio.

You're welcome.

Yeah. Okay, I got you.

There we go, Rachel. No harm done.

Help.

For our first rehearsal,
let's begin by asking ourselves,

"What's the first step in learning
to become our characters?"

For me, it's really about digging deep
and getting to know my character.

My, Harriet,
aren't you just the master thespian?

Actually,
I think that's good advice, Harriet.

Let's all spend a little time
getting to know our characters.

Sorry, Beth Ellen, didn't see you there.

Careful now.

The chicken needs her drumsticks.

Get off of me.

By the end of our first week
of rehearsals,

I became the unofficial leader
of the side dishes.

I know we're only side dishes.

But if we stick together,
we can make a difference.

Deal with it!

Ms. Elson,
Harriet is writing new lines for my play.

It's a great script, Marion.

I just think that the side dishes
can have more of a voice.

May I have a look?

I see where you're going, Harriet.

The roasted chicken is the star.

But without the side dishes,
there'd be no Fall Harvest feast.

Exactly.

Do you mind if I use that line
in the speech I'm writing?

It's kinda brilliant.

Well, it's yours.

Well played, Harriet M. Welsch.

Well played.

Fixing Marion's script
was a lot harder than I thought.

Hello, Harriet.

Ole Golly.

How was Montreal?

I learned some French.

That means, "How's the writing going?"

I'm nervous.

I've never shown my writing
to anybody else before.

What if it stinks?

The author Samuel Beckett said this
about life, but it applies to writing too.

"I can't go on. I'll go on."

So, stick with it.

No, don't go.

I need you to pull
off my blanket every night

and tell me it's time to go to sleep.

My parents never do that.
Plus, I miss you.

Au revoir, Harriet. Au revoir.

That's French for...

Goodbye.

I knew I was way too old
to be doing this.

But it was an emergency,

and the only cure was pretending
I was five years old again.

Ole Golly wasn't going
to save me,

and neither was
being five years old again.

The training wheels were off
for good.

The only person who was going
to save me was Harriet M. Welsch.

"Friends, Romans, and vegetables,
lend me your ears."

Dumb.

"Why be side dishes
when we can be front dishes?"

Front dishes?

Well,
we started as "potaters"

On the train to tasty town

We danced with graceful graters
And were fried till golden brown

When it comes to crisp confections
We wear the golden crown

I didn't know
where that song came from,

but I definitely wanted
to see where it was going.

Let us show you the way to tasty town

Ms. Elson, while I kindly agreed
to let Harriet write a few lines,

I did not agree
to letting her turn my play

into a musical.

Marion, I understand why you're upset.

And it is time to do something about it.

The emotions you're feeling right now,
anger, resentment, jealousy.

Try to climb aboard one of those feelings
and see where it takes you.

But, Ms. Elson--

Acting is a journey, Marion.
Don't be afraid now.

Now, Harriet. Let's take it from the top.

I want all the side dishes
to come in at the chorus.

And a one,
and a two, and a three.

I must have done something right
because the next day,

all the side dishes were working
on their characters.

I yam what I yam.

Would you boys stop yammering, please?

You want Tater Tots?

Well, we started as "potaters"
On the train to tasty town

We danced with graceful graters

- And were fried till golden brown
- You're holding up the line.

When it comes to crisp confections
We wear the golden crown

Let us show you the way to tasty town

I am a brussels sprout.

Gross.

How could you want to be something
that smells like rotten eggs?

The rotten egg smell associated
with brussels sprouts comes

from improperly overcooking the vegetable.

When prepared properly by gently steaming,

brussels sprouts have a sweet,
nutty flavor and a crisp texture.

I am a brussels sprout.

When is this going to stop?

Acting is a journey, Marion.
Don't be afraid.

Harriet.

Just-- You are pathetic.

Ms. Elson,
Harriet is trying to take over my--

Marion, you're here. Perfect.

You're just in time

to rehearse a new scene
that Harriet wrote.

"Pee-yew, brussels sprout.
You smell like rotten eggs."

"The rotten egg smell associated
with brussels sprouts--"

This has gone too far.

I am not the villain.
I am the main course.

You are not getting away with this.

Marion.

Okay, everybody.

I've asked you here for a top-secret,
Marion-free rehearsal of a new song

- for the end of the play.
- Nice try, Harriet.

Look who's here.

Just wanted you all to know
we are quitting the play

unless we go back to the original script.

Maybe the play will be better
without Marion.

I knew Janie was right.
Without a roast chicken,

our Fall Harvest Day play
would be a dead duck.

Marion,
you know we can't do it without you.

You should have thought of that
before you decided to hijack my play.

You may all think that
Harriet M. Welsch just wants

to make the play better.

But the truth is,
she just wants to get revenge on me.

That's not true.

Really? So, you're not still furious
at me for not being your friend anymore?

That was a long time ago.

You know, I wanna say,
"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

But you're not wearing any pants.

So, I'll just go with,
"Liar, liar, lame onion costume on fire."

You're the liar.

Said the liar.

I am not a liar!

Sorry. It was an accident. Are you okay?

You all saw it. She attacked me.

Do something!

- Well, what do you--
- Just go.

Run, Harriet!

What are we supposed to do
when we catch her?

I have no idea. I thought you knew.

Where did she go?

Split up!

It couldn't be, could it?

You know that new life smell
I was talking about?

But Marion had my notebook.

The only thing I could smell was fear.

Well, since you claim you're not a liar,

everything you wrote about us
in your little notebook must be true.

No one reads my notebook but me!

Here's something about me.

Just like that, the age
of Harriet officially bit the biscuit.

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