05x20 - Do You See What I See?

[bunniefuu]

( phone ringing )

Hello?

Hello?

That's weird. They hung up.

That's the second time
that's happened today.

Did you hear a cell door

clanging in the background?

No.

Then it wasn't my mom.

Hey, look, I found an old
box of macaroni for dinner.

Whoa, whoa-- let me see

the expiration date on that.

I think it's in Roman numerals.

Have anything better?

Tater tots...

A freezer-b*rned pot pie...

and a UFO-- unidentified foil object.

Do you realize, in the ' s

they thought this was a well-balanced meal?

Well, in the ' s they also thought

that hiding underneath your desk could

save you from a nuclear att*ck.

That only works if the desk
is feet underground

and made of a titanium alloy.

And speaking of nuclear fallout

I survived another dinner with my parents.

Ooh, and saved us from fossilized macaroni.

Hand over the leftovers.

The entire evening was a nightmare.

They maligned every aspect
of my character and my life.

That's awful.

Oh, your mom put raisins in the kugel.

I don't even know why I continue going.

These Sunday night dinners
are becoming a sadistic ritual.

It's important to have family traditions.

Do you taste this kishka?

It's to die for.

It's the same thing every time I go home.

My father hoks me about forgetting

this paranormal nonsense

and switching my major to accounting

while my mother shovels
food into my plate and says

"Why don't you come home more often?"

It wouldn't hurt.

You'd think my father would realize

I'd rather stick needles in my eyes

than join the family business.

Well, what are you saying?

That there's no room
for a paranormal researcher

at a CPA firm?

That's about as good
as my father's latest joke--

changing the company name

to Goodman, Goodman and Not So Goodman.

That's funny.

Or cruel.

You know, depends on your point of view.

♪ Life's changing around me,
and I'm gonna make it mine ♪

♪ I'm reaching out and living
by my rules... ♪

♪ Time's moving way too fast ♪

♪ I wanna make it last... ♪

♪ 'Cause I'm out on my own now ♪

♪ And I like the way it feels. ♪

For your next astronomy paper

you're free to choose

your own topic.

It should be double-spaced, ten pages.

Due next week, and no

there is no bonus assignment
for extra credit.

Never hurts to ask.

This should be a breeze.

I can spit out ten pages just
downloading NASA's website.

And one other thing--

No downloading NASA's website

or any other scientific mumbo jumbo

that you get off the Internet.

I want it totally understandable. Simple.

In layman's terms.

Which is why you'll be presenting it

orally to the class.

I don't believe this.

First we can't download our reports.

Then she expects us
to actually understand them.

What kind of wacko approach to teaching

is this, anyway?

This is quite a quandary.

You have to intelligently
discuss a complicated topic

yet it has to be understandable

to the lowest common denominator.

How do we do that?

I just thought of a way.

Is Aunt Hilda here?

I got to run my astronomy report by her.

You want to talk to Hilda about science?

Dear, that's like asking Hirohito

where to get a good pizza.

I, on the other hand, have three doctorates

in intergalactic studies

and am personally credited
with discovering moons.

Well, my professor says

that my report has to be so clear

that even the simplest
person can understand it.

Better wait for Hilda.

She's on a date with a witch from Venus.

She met him through that dating service--

Great Hexpectations.

What is all this?

Oh, extra food Miles brought home
from dinner with his family.

They t*rture him
about becoming an accountant

but send him home with gold.

This looks unusual.

Ugh. And not unlike

my Uncle Goliath's kidney stone.

It's matzo ball soup.

So good you just want to say, "Oy."

That's Yiddish for "Yum."

Oy.

That was the most incredible
experience of my life.

So Elliot was nice?

Beats me.

I was talking about his car.

That thing really flies.

Literally-- he's got a flying car, Zellie.

( rocket engines roaring )

UFO!

It looks just like a Cadillac.

So, tell us about your date.

Give us details.

It's a , -cylinder,
hydrogen-fueled turbo

with the coolest chrome
fins on the afterburners.

Oh. You mean Elliot.

Well, let me just say this.

It's true what they say
about men from Venus.

They have great suspension.

As opposed to those cads from Mars

who leave the toilet seat
up and drink out of the milk carton.

I did it once.

Let it go.

Well, now that we've got a report

on your date and his car

I want to run my astronomy report by you.

Of course. See--

you're not the only one

Sabrina values for her intelligence. sh**t.

"The speed of light is the speed
at which light travels..."

Whoa whoa hoa. Back up,
Einstein-- you lost me.

Maybe I should just give
my report with finger puppets.

Oh, I love finger puppets.

So, you ready to give your presentation?

Actually, I'm ready to give
two presentations.

One is my standard ten-minute
cocktail party icebreaker

about the molecular
composition of sunspots.

The other is really going out on a limb.

I better go with the safe choice.

Safe choice? That doesn't sound like you.

Then I know I'm on the right track.

Miles come on, you got to go out on a limb.

I mean, that's what I love about you.

You're not afraid to take risks.

Really?

Yeah, I mean look at what you're wearing.

"Therefore, it is hypothesized

"that quasars are optical illusions

"created by gravitational lensing

"of the photons emanating from a large mass

at the center of an active galaxy.
The end."

Wow. Who knew you could
deliver a ten-page report

without ever taking a breath?

Although, towards the end,
the lack of oxygen

was causing your left eye to wander.

I'm just happy it's over and I never

have to think about quasars again.

Thank you, Roxie, or should I

be thanking your Internet service provider?

Sabrina, you're next.

Uh... My report is on the speed of light.

The speed of light is fast.

It's really fast.

Like, you know how the cheetah's, like

the fastest land animal.

It's, like, way, way, way,
way, way faster than that.

You said to keep it simple.

I was all set to present
my report on sunspots

including my hypothesis that the disco era

was influenced by a minor solar flare

but then, a good friend convinced me

to go out on a limb.

Last night...

I, Miles Goodman

witnessed an alien spacecraft
traverse the night sky.

( class laughing )

Oy. Not in the "yum" sense of the word.

Surprisingly, it looked like a Cadillac

yet it was stylishly adorned

with chrome fins on the afterburners.

Why can't Aunt Hilda take
the bus like everyone else?

It was incredible.

There it flew, flashing a red light

that I can only interpret
as a left turn signal.

I got another interpretation--

you're a nut job.

( class giggling )

I know what I saw.

I-I-It was a flying car.

Or maybe it was a rubber-padded spaceship

coming to take you away.

I'm sure it wasn't a medical
vehicle, because there weren't

any international markings for Red Cross.

You're so loopy, Goodman.

Maybe what you saw looked like a spacecraft

but was really a weather balloon.

Afterburners on a weather balloon?

Now who's loopy?

Still you.

Aunt Hilda, we need to talk.

Nothing good ever comes
after that sentence.

Miles saw your boyfriend's flying car.

See?

He gave a report on it in Astronomy,
and was totally humiliated.

I had to cover with some stupid
story about a weather balloon.

You called a top-of-the-line fully loaded
Venusian cruiser a weather balloon?

Look, the point is, if you're going
to date people from other planets

you have to be discreet.

Isn't that what I've always taught you?

Wait a minute,
that's what you've always taught me.

I'm sorry. I just got carried away.

I've just never dated a guy
with such cool wheels before.

Aunt Hilda, you dated the guy
who invented the wheel.

Oh, Miles.

Do you have a moment?

Uh, yes, but make it quick.

I'm the target of mass mockery

and unless I'm fast on my feet

I may inadvertently get pantsed.

Well, this won't take long.

I wanted to ask you for the recipe

to your mother's delectable
matzo ball soup.

I'd like to help you, but my mother
swore she's taking it to her grave

along with my bubee Esther's antique brooch

which I interpret as a direct
slap to my Aunt Ceil.

Oh, but I must have that recipe.

Surely you could get it for me.

Believe me, Zelda,
I would do anything for you

but my mother keeps that secret
recipe in her girdle drawer

and no one goes in there.

Unfortunately... not even my mother.

I'm really glad you decided
to go out with me again.

I... I wasn't sure that you liked me.

Don't be ridiculous, Elliot.

I'm very fond of you.

Now, where's the turbo?

I don't think that you're
ready for that yet.

Besides, I think we should wait until we reach
a less congested area to kick it in.

Or we could kick it in now

and get out of this congestion faster.

I know-- "Driving is a privilege.

Safety first." Blah, blah, blah.

Hilda, I'm beginning to think
the only reason you're going out with me

is because you like my vehicle.

That's not true.

I think you're a very sweet, sensitive guy

and I'm lucky to have found you.

I feel the same way about you.

I can't believe I have to redo my report.

Sure, it was a little factoid heavy

but I didn't go off like a crazy person

about a flying Cadillac taking
the carpool lane to Pluto.

Miles isn't crazy.

Yes, he is, and I'll tell
you who's even crazier:

his good friend who told him

he should make a fool of himself.

His good friend had the best of intentions.

I'm just guessing.

( phone rings )

Hello?

Hello?

Another hang up. This
is getting a little freaky.

I mean if the lights go out, and someone
walks in here with a Kn*fe...

( both shrieking )

That's the best reaction I've had all day.

Sorry, we thought you were
the psychotic hang up caller.

Yeah I wish.

Professor Hutchins just
called me on the carpet.

She said, "Science has nothing to do

with little green men
in souped-up spaceships."

Then she said I'm "an embarrassment

to the Paranormal Studies program."

What's embarrassing is there
is a Paranormal Studies program.

The point is... that when the head

of the Paranormal Department
calls you a freaking fruitcake

it's time to reevaluate
the rest of your life.

Miles, you're not crazy.

You're just as sane as anyone.

That's not much comfort coming from you.

You're the one who told
me to go out on a limb

and then told the class
I saw a weather balloon.

I was just trying to come up

with a more plausible explanation.

Then other words I'm a freaking fruitcake.

Miles, I didn't say that.

Do you or do you not believe

that I saw a spaceship-- yes or no?

Well... I believe that...
you think you saw one.

So you think I'm delusional?

No, I just think there
are millions of possibilities.

No, there's only one.

I'm going to forget all this
paranormal nonsense

and become an accountant.

Miles, you can't do that.

Watch me.

My father will finally get his wish.

From now on, it's going to be
Goodman, Goodman and Goodman.

( sighs )

Oy.

I can't believe Miles decided
to be an accountant.

He's always wanted to be a paranormal
researcher all of his life.

I mean, even as a toddler, he was convinced

that Bert and Ernie were
visitors from another planet.

I just wish those two would come out

and put that rumor to rest.

Look, Sabrina

I think this Miles thing

is good news for you.

Now he won't be nosing around

looking for supernatural phenomena

and you won't have to worry about

being exposed as a witch.

No, I just have to worry about

having k*lled a man's spirit.

Oh, please, who hasn't done that?

I just wish I could have
looked Miles in the eyes

and told him that I know
he saw that spacecraft.

Then maybe he'd still
be following his dream.

Sabrina, you had no choice.

You couldn't tell Miles the truth.

Just like I can't tell Elliot

I'm only dating him for his big block.

What? It's an engine.

Hey, great news.

I just sold my freshman
accounting books to Goodman.

That's horrible.

Not for me.

And, frankly, changing his major's

the best decision Miles ever made.

Having your dreams crushed
is your idea of a good time?

Let me guess-- in Peter
Pan, when Tinkerbell dies

you're the only guy not clapping
to bring her back to life.

That little fairy drove me nuts.

Sabrina, you have to look at it

from a pragmatic point of view.

There's not a lot of job opportunities

for guys with a BS in UFOs.

That's true.

On career day, you rarely see

a paranormal recruiting booth.

And better Miles comes
to this realization now

rather than spending $ ,
on an education he'll never use.

I guess you're right.

College is a time that should be spent

doing the thing that prepares
you for your life ahead.

We're out of toilet paper
in the men's room.

I'm on it.

( phone ringing )

Hello?

Hello?

This is really getting old.

Not unlike this kugel.

It just doesn't keep like the kishke.

So, Miles, you seem to really be

getting into those accounting books.

You got to love debits and credits.

They're all perfectly logical

and spelled out in black and red.

Don't you miss the thrill
of the unexplainable?

What I don't miss is the pain
of being ridiculed.

When you tell people you see
a seven, they believe you

instead of calling you a nut job.

You know, Miles, I know
what you're going through.

I mean, I know what it's like to have
people think you're different.

Yeah right, what would you
know about being different?

Well, there happens to be

a lot about me that you don't know.

Like?

Like I tend to

talk too much about myself.

Back to you.

Face it, Sabrina

you know nothing about being different.

You're just a nice, normal,
well-adjusted person.

( phone rings )

Look, knock it off, psycho!

I don't have time for your...

Oh, sorry.

Miles, it's Garth.

He wants to know if you want to go

to the Sci-Fi Club screening
of Blade Runner tonight.

Tell him I'm busy.

He says they're going to watch it backwards

and look for hidden meaning.

Sorry, Garth, but I'm
joining the real world.

Are you sure you want to do this?

I mean, you used to really
enjoy going out with those...

Freaks?

Sabrina, I know I've made
the right decision.

I can definitely see myself

being an accountant for the next years.

, if I go with my father's extended
workday plan.

Well, maybe you can, but I can't.

Wait a minute, of course I can.

Uh...

Prove me wrong and allay my fears

Show me Miles in years.

Here's your tax return, Mr. Willoughby

and you'll be happy to know
I was able to write off

your entire safari to Africa.

And, if the Feds ever ask

Mr. G. Raffe and Mr. L. E. Phant

are your Serengeti sales reps.

Miles, you're a genius.

You saved me again.

Well, it's easy when you do what you love.

Great, I was wrong!

Miles is happy being an accountant.

And why not?

I mean, he's successful,
he's got a nice office

big desk, picture of the wife and kids...

Is that Roxie?

Just need your John Hancock on this.

Will you excuse me?

Sure.

( screaming )

( knocking )

Sorry to barge in

but I can't let you ruin your life.

Sabrina, my life is just beginning--

a new life enriched with the joy
of long-form deductions.

No, you're going to hate deductions.

They are going to make you miserable.

I know this for a fact.

How do you know-- what'd you do?

Look into a crystal ball

and see my future?
Something like that.

Look, part of being Miles Goodman

is you know collecting stuff like this.

Radioactive isotope from a Russian warhead.

Oh, are you insane?

Yes, you are.

And that is my point.

See, anyone that collects stuff like this

is not meant to be an accountant.

That's why I'm giving it away.

By the way, I'd wash
my hands if I were you.

Several thousand times.

Dipotassium phosphate.

Dipotassium phosphate.

Sodium silicaluminate.

Sodium silicaluminate.

And schmaltz.

Schmaltz.

This should do it.

Voila!

If my calculations are right

I will have just replicated
the exact molecular structure

of Mrs. Goodman's matzo balls.

Prepare yourself for gastronomic nirvana.

Brelch!

if this is nirvana, I'm Hadassah Lieberman.

Oh, Sabrina, good, you're here.

I need a second opinion.

Try this.

What do you think?

Make them smaller, have
Tiger Woods autograph them

and you've got the hottest
seller at the PGA tour.

I don't understand what went wrong.

This matzo ball is a chemically
perfect clone.

Zelly, you're missing one key ingredient.

What?

Something I learned about

in my little village of Anatevka-- love.

Okay, before he breaks out in a chorus

of "Sunrise, Sunset," I need
to talk to you about Miles.

If only I could tell him
I know he saw that spacecraft

he'd give up this crazy idea
of being an accountant.

But you can't tell him.

That would be admitting
that you have special powers.

Exactly.

Hmm. This is a conundrum.

Not to mention a confounding
and perplexing problem.

I just wish there was some way
I could validate Miles

and let him know he's not alone.

Well, I'm off for my next flying
lesson with Elliot.

Tonight he's going to show me

how to properly grip his throttle.

That's what makes the big block fly.

And don't worry, we won't
let anyone see us.

Although, seeing is believing,
if you catch my drift.

Caught it, and am already
formulating a plan.

Oh. That's great.

You're making us a new croquet set--

just in time for summer.

( thudding )

MILES: I should be practicing
my ledger entries.

I'm really struggling
with those European sevens.

Well, Miles, you said you'd help me

identify constellations
for astronomy class.

Besides, you can still do
your accounting on the roof.

I'll suggest that to my father.

Perhaps this year, our firm
can prepare tax returns

on the steeple of the Old North Church.

It's : .

They should have been here by now.

Who?

Uh... geese.

You know, they-they, uh, they...

they're very punctual with their migration.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

Look!

Oh, my God, do you see that?

Absolutely-- Now,
that is the Big Dipper, right?

Not the constellation, the spaceship.

Please tell me you see that.

Wow! It is a spaceship!

Unbelievable!

It's beautiful.

A technological miracle.

Although the driver appears
to be slightly inebriated.

Oh, that's probably just
a problem with the big block.

That's an engine.

I know that.

I can't get it into fifth gear!

Uh, that's 'cause this only has four.

( gears grinding and clanking)

Not anymore.

Hilda, I've been trying
to find the right time

to tell you something

but maybe I should just, uh, spit it out.

Spit all you want.

Just don't fog up the windshield.

The truth is I'm married.

Want to see me do a donut?

HILDA: Yoo-hoo!

Well, you've taken this
better than I thought.

But you have nothing to worry about.

I'm getting a divorce.

That just stinks.

I thought you'd be happy.

The Pluto Highway is closed.

How am I supposed to open up this puppy

if I have to take surface streets?

Hilda, I am trying to talk about us.

Are you listening to anything I'm saying?

Of course I'm listening.

( horn honking ) Way to signal, Dipwad!

Well the good news is

that I'm coming out of this
marriage in great shape.

I get the house and everything in it.

All she gets is this car.

( tires screeching )

Sabrina, seeing that spaceship

confirms everything I've ever believed in.

And I know I'm not deluding myself

because you saw it, too... right?

Of course.

I can't wait to tell Professor Hutchins

and this time I have a witness.

Miles, maybe we better keep
this between the two of us.

You know what they say:

"Double your sighting, double your scorn."

Perhaps you're right.

And all that really matters

is that someone else in the world
knows I'm not crazy.

As long as you don't go into accounting.

I could never do that.

My passion for the paranormal
is too strong.

I'm glad to hear you say that.

So, you ready to go inside?

Not yet.

Remember the other day, when you said

you were different from everybody else?

Did I say that?

I was probably just trying
to make you feel better.

No, Sabrina...

I finally figured out how you're different.

I mean I was shocked at first

but then I realized
all the clues were there

from the very beginning.

Miles, you've got to promise
not to tell anyone.

Okay, you could really
put my life in jeopardy.

Don't worry, Sabrina.

I'm not going to tell everybody

that you have a crush on me.

I have a crush on you?

Oh... yeah.

I have a crush on you.

Big time.

But as long as we are roommates,
we must never act upon it.

I understand.

I'll do whatever I can to be
a little less desirable.

It's working already.

Oy!

What a great word.

( phone ringing )

Hello.

Oh, good it's you.

I just want you to know

that I'm contacting the FBI.

They're going to track you down.

You're going to be sorry you
ever dialed this number.

Sabrina?

Harvey?

You're the one who's been calling here
and hanging up?

Sorry about that.

Every time I heard your voice, I froze up.

Well, I'm glad you finally thawed out.

Look, ever since I saw you

in Florida, you've been on my mind.

I really feel bad about the way I acted

after I found out you were a...

A witch?

Yeah, that.

But in my defense, you
did turn me into a frog

and a beast and a Canadian Mountie.

Don't forget about the time
I made you pregnant.

How can I? I still have stretch marks.

No, but even considering all that...

you've always been a really
good friend to me

and the reason I'm calling
is that I want to apologize.

Thanks.

That really means a lot to me.

Yeah, well, that's pretty
much what I called to say

and now I've pretty much said it, so...

Hey, is that a Cadillac
flying through the sky?

I'm going to k*ll Aunt Hilda.