Of the leash
-
For a pair of pants
His favorite pastime
For the last time
-
Why can't I be a normal kid like any other?
Now, doodle bug, listen to mother.
I hate dogs.
I do not wish to be a dog.
Yes!
We now return to "The Weepy And The Sorry."
I'm sorry, Emberly.
I'm so very, very sorry.
She slapped him.
I can't believe she was so violent.
Yeah, that Emberly's a feisty one.
She hit him again.
You never loved me, Bryce. Never!
Give it to him again, Emberly.
Emberly, you know it's not true.
Oh, it's true, all right.
Yeah, we heard what you told Blake Breckinridge yesterday,
you lowlife!
I've always loved you. Always.
Liar, liar, expensive pants on fire.
You're too good for this bum, Emberly.
Mommy's home.
Yaah!
Psyche!
Mommy's home.
Ha ha ha.
Très, très amusant.
You should be ashamed of yourself, scaring us.
And especially during my story.
Watch out. My mom's right behind me.
Yeah, right.
Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, I don't think so.
Mommy's home.
-Yaah! -Yaah!
Ha ha ha!
Whoo! Oh!
I know it's wrong to frighten dumb animals,
but it's just so much fun.
So what's it going to be today, master o' mine--
a brisk walk in the park, the old fake ball toss?
That never gets old.
Well, um, you see, I--
Leonard, honey, you don't want to be late.
O-Okay, mom. I just have to change first.
W-Well, see you later, fella.
Something is very wrong with Leonard.
I'm not talking to you.
Yeah, shove off.
Now I'll never know if Emberly takes Bryce back.
All they ever do on these insipid TV shows
that you waste your time watching
instead of bettering yourself with a good book
is rehash all the insipid stories
from yesterday's insipid show!
Now can we talk about Leonard?
First you've got to tell me what "insipid" means.
I try, Bill. I really try.
Leonard is acting very strangely.
I had the leash out, all ready to frolic,
and he just mumbled something about changing
and slinked away.
Don't you see?
Leonard's never not taken me for my walk. Never!
Gee. Someone has an awfully high opinion of himself.
Yeah. The first time the kid doesn't want to toss
you a tennis ball covered with drool,
and suddenly he's gone wacko.
Leonard, let's go. You're going to be late.
I can't find my hatchet.
Well, if you put your hatchet in the same place every time,
you wouldn't lose it.
Did you look under your length of rope?
Got it. Ready to go.
I just hope you're not late for the initiation ceremony.
Hatchet? Rope? Initiation?
Are you naysayers ready to say nay to naysaying
and join this yea-sayer in saying yea?
-Huh? -Huh?
Okay, disregard that last remark.
You'll have to pardon me.
I'm really not myself today because my best friend
has suddenly joined the forces of evil!
Ooh, this is bad.
This is very, very bad.
Good heavens.
Spot, what do you think is up with Leonard?
I don't know. He might be in league
with any sort of degenerate, hideous villains.
What? What?
Carnies.
-Yaah! -Yaah!
-Who? -Who?
Carnies! Show folk!
The fiendishly foul, dentally challenged denizens
of the traveling carnival circus.
Bands of barefoot brigands
who travel by night, kidnapping young innocents
and brainwashing them to keep
their evil thrill-ride operating machine oiled.
Oh, come on. That's ridiculous.
Maybe it is,
and maybe, at this very moment, our sweet Leonard
is getting a tattoo of a monster truck
and arm-wrestling cyclops boy for first dibs
on the hurl-a-whirl.
What are you waiting for?
Save him! Now!
I'm way ahead of you.
Scott Leadready is on the case.
But you don't know where Leonard is. He's miles away by now.
You're forgetting something.
I happen to be a dog.
I've-- I've followed Leonard's trail
to this remote wooded area
on the deserted outskirts of town.
I want to go on the swings!
Okay, okay, I over-dramatized a tad,
but come on, I'm worried about Leonard.
It's Leonard!
A gang of carnies has got their seldom-washed hands on him.
Oh, boy. I'm so scared.
I love you, bacon.
I'm coming to save you, Leonard!
Leonard!
Scott? What are you--
back off. Off, I say!
You'll not harm this poor boy again,
you foul minions of the cotton-candy circuit.
Okay, who let the blue fuzzy kid in?
Um, Mr. Kenickie, this is my friend Scott,
and he was just leaving.
Well, friend or not, son, civilians aren't allowed
in Junior Boy Ranger headquarters.
You know that.
This is Junior Boy Ranger headquarters?
That is what he said, Scott.
And if you don't mind, we're right in the middle
of a good citizenship ceremony!
Junior Boy Ranger headquarters.
Here we go.
Oh, oh, oh! I've heard tales
of this magnificent palace of boyhood adventure,
but I never dared to hope I'd one day be here--
the sturdy grandeur of the gray concrete walls,
the glimmering brass of the Junior Boy Ranger flagpole,
the wondrous sight of strapping lads
in crisp, neatly pressed uniforms,
thrilling to ghost stories around the campfire,
tying complicated knots that will never be used in real life.
It's-- it's a dream come true!
Um, Scott,
we have a good citizenship ceremony
to start, and--
Leonard, you be a good citizen right now
and let me talk to your buddy, okay?
Scott, I'm troop leader in charge Kenickie.
I'm sure you've heard of me--
Steve Kenickie Life Insurance? On Elm Street.
Next to the dry cleaners? Oh, come on, across from--
anyway, would you be interested
in joining the Junior Boy Rangers?
Oh, would I? Would I?
That reminds me of a joke, a totally insensitive joke
a Junior Boy Ranger should never tell.
Still, the answer is yes!
Yes, I do want to join the rangers.
Ha ha, yes. Ha ha.
I'm a little nervous. Sorry. Yes!
Great. Well, it shouldn't be too hard.
You just have to pass our ranger-requirements test, and you're in.
Here's your Junior Boy Ranger manual,
and here's some information on the full range
of life-insurance policies I offer,
just in case your dad cares about what will happen to you
if he meets with a sudden accident.
Well, have fun.
Sir, yes, sir!
Boy, oh, boy.
Ahem. So...
How come I didn't tell you I was going
to my Junior Boy Rangers meeting? Well--
Tut. I understand. You were afraid I'd come in
and do better than you, just like I did in school.
Ha ha ha!
Boy, you're really taking this hard.
Spot, I didn't tell you because I knew you'd want to join.
I didn't want you to be crushed
when you found out you couldn't hack it.
Me? Not hack it? Ha!
I scoff at you. Hear me scoffing?
Ha! I can hack anything.
Look, Spot, there's a reason
why it's called "Junior Boy Rangers"--
because it's for boys. You're a dog.
There are some things that dogs just can't do.
Ha ha ha! Whoo!
Ha ha ha ha!
Things dogs can't do.
In case you're forgetting,
I am an unnaturally talented dog,
and just because I have a wet nose
doesn't mean I can't be a Junior Boy Ranger.
I have just as much right
to wear the old yellow and lighter yellow as you do.
Okay, that's a pity look. What?
Scott, my Junior Boy Ranger's uniform
is purple and green.
So, purple and green, yellow and lighter yellow--
it's no big deal.
Oh, why do dogs have to be colorblind? Why?
Actually, dogs do have some color vision.
They just don't have as many color photoreceptors
in the retina as humans.
I got an achievement badge on how the eye works.
Great. Cheated out of a shot at glory
by a few measly photoreceptors.
It's not just that. There's a lot of dog things
that could cause trouble for you.
Like what?
I'm not sure if you know this,
but when you camp out, there's trees everywhere.
Don't take it so hard.
There are a lot of things that you do great.
Yeah, like sniffing other dogs' tails.
Pardon me if I don't hire an airplane
to write that in the sky.
Wait up.
I'm sorry. I didn't realize
you wanted to be a Junior Boy Ranger that bad.
You mean my little glimmering- brass-of-the-flagpole routine
didn't spell it out for you?
Anyway, I'm sorry.
And if you really want to join,
I'll help you get in any way I can.
You will? Oh, thank...
On one condition.
...you.
You can't interfere with my preparations
for the Maplewood little-car race.
I really want to win it this year.
Agreed!
You won't regret this, Leonard.
And that statement was not ironic foreshadowing.
I guarantee it. That wasn't one, either.
Look out, world,
there's a new boy ranger in town!
Ahem. Uh, ha ha.
Yay.
"So you want to become a Junior Boy Ranger."
"So you want to enter the Junior Boy Ranger
Maplewood little-car race."
"So you want to learn how to regurgitate creamy corn."
What? Only you guys are allowed
to read to yourselves?
Hmph.
Leonard, I need your help.
I can move the rear axle
a little more forward this year.
I've whittled down my ranger requirements
to the final 10, but I'm not totally sure
if they'll give me in trouble in the...
Og-day epartment-day.
I mean, number five is
"help a senior citizen in your community,"
which is a snap, but if said senior
has a cat, then all bets are off.
Any time you feel like keeping your promise
and helping me, just jump in.
You promised you wouldn't interfere
with my getting ready for the race.
Okay!
Look, Scott, I've been helping you all week.
Now it's my time to get ready for the race.
I have to make a better car this year.
I can't decide which requirements to choose.
I told you it wouldn't be easy.
Oh, no! No, don't trot out the old
"you can't do it 'cause you're a you-know-what" bit again.
I'm proud of who I am and what I'm capable of.
This is one... dog...
Who can become a Junior Boy Ranger
without any boy's help.
I even bet I can complete all 10 of my requirements
before you finish your precious wooden doodle bug.
You're on. And don't call it a doodle bug.
Good! I'll show you I don't need any help,
and I-I-I don't need help with this, either.
Thank you. Thank you.
Hey, that's not sincere applause.
Brave and true
In everything we do
We're forever bound
As our minds are sound
To face adversity
Aah!
With ingenuity
A well-oiled machine
Of the purple
Brave and true
In everything we do
We're forever bound
As our minds are sound
To face adversity
With ingenuity
A well-oiled machine
Of the purple
Guess what, Lenny.
I've only got one requirement left--
"do a good deed without asking for a reward."
That seems to defeat the purpose, but what the hay?
How goes the big racecar, bunky?
Ah, how sweet, albeit pathetic.
Now, where does he keep his paintbrushes?
Ew.
Where doesn't he keep his paintbrushes?
This boy could use a lesson or two in organization.
"Ew" again.
Not the cutest rear-axle assembly I ever saw.
Oh, well.
Wait a minute. I'll do my good deed
by helping Leonard with his car.
I'll just spread the genius around a little,
bring him up to my level.
This just needs to be adjusted a bit around the flanges.
Mm-hmm, add a tiny dab of paint
to make it look spick-spot.
Maybe a nice...
Yellow.
Just a jot more yellow, and voilà.
Perfect.
Now to clean up.
A Junior Boy Ranger is always neat.
The cap for the yellow paint goes on the yellow-paint bottle.
Green? Heh heh.
Oh, here's the yellow.
Indigo?
Oh, that's--
that's a fancy name for yellow, isn't it?
Isn't it?
Okay, don't panic, don't panic.
Just-- just find the yellow.
Aah! Okay.
Okay, just wipe it off. You can do it.
Now where's that car?
It was-- it was just here a second ago.
Aah! Aah!
Come back here! Come back here! Come back here!
Yaah!
Hey, you, come back here!
Ha ha ha! Well, well, monsieur.
I love these old classic cartoons.
I can't believe they're so violent.
Yeah, they don't make them like this anymore.
Now I've got you, you lousy squirrel.
Hey, whoa. How come the squirrel's still alive?
His head's way over there.
'Cause it's a cartoon.
-Gophers can't really talk, you know. -Oh, yeah.
I think it's coming from in there.
You're hearing things, pal.
There ain't no mouse in here.
Only one dead dog.
Very funny.
Spot, do you know what you've done?
Of course I know what I've done.
You've ruined Leonard's racecar.
I know I've ruined Leonard's racecar.
And the big race is this morning!
I know the big race--
The big race is this morning?
Oh, no!
My car! It's ruined!
What happened?
Well, Pretty Boy and I were watching
a particularly amusing episode
of "The Loony Gopher Show," and--
This is all my fault, Leonard.
Leonard, this is kind of awkward.
Could you take me down from here?
Aah!
Thank you.
This is all my fault, Leonard!
I wanted to do my last ranger requirement
by helping you,
but I got the colors confused and my tail in the way.
You were right. A dog can't be a boy ranger.
I have no business wearing...
The one color and the other color.
Ohh...
Don't be so hard on yourself, Spot.
So you figured out you've got some limitations.
Big deal. It's too bad they ruined
the one thing I care about most, but what can you do?
Easy for you to say. Your dog hair isn't glued to a block of wood.
No, but my limitations are everywhere, too.
I was obsessed with making a great racecar,
but I had no clue how to do it.
You may not know this,
but I'm not very well-organized.
Uh, yeah, I noticed.
Ahem!
I got limitations, too,
but shutting up isn't one of them.
Maybe if you mopes concentrated
on what you're good at and worked together,
you could fix that car in time to get to the race.
You're good at organization.
You're good at telling red from blue.
Let's do it!
Man, there's a whole lot of fur on here.
Tell me about it.
Ladies and gentlemen, the final results
of the Junior Boy Ranger
Maplewood little-car race are in,
and soon we will know the winner of the grand-prize package,
courtesy of Steve Kenickie Life Insurance.
On Elm Street. Next to-- oh, forget it.
Well, we had 27 beautiful Maplewood
little-car-race racecars here today,
and when we take away the ones I, unfortunately,
had to disqualify for too much parental help,
we're left with our two finalists.
Coming in second is Ian Wazaloseky...
And his Yankee toenail clipper.
Ew!
Don't be so grossed out. They're not my toenails.
Ew!
And our winner today, with a record time,
is the team teammates car...
Created by Leonard Helperman
and our newest junior boy ranger, Scott Leadready II.
Is my face turning red, or is it just me?