♪ Magic is real here ♪
♪ Far away from home ♪
♪ Anything can happen ♪
♪ When witches make the rules ♪
♪ Monsters are cool ♪
♪ The moon is our friend ♪
♪ I wanna stay with you ♪
♪ On Summer Camp Island ♪
Oh. Hey, Oscar!
Oh, shoot. Are you guys heading out?
I was gonna invite myself over for tea.
Have at it. Mortimer's staying home.
Whoa!
Hey, Mortimer.
I'm inviting myself over for tea.
Good timing!
I just made myself a pot of chamomile.
Sounds "taste-tea!"
Hmm. Where's Hedgehog?
Oh, she's at Alexa's sports party that I wasn't invited to.
Oh, Oscar, I'm so sorry.
Hmm?
Go ahead, bud. Let it out.
It's fine, Mortimer. I'm not sad.
Me and sports are
Really? Mm-hmm.
I've already made peace with the fact
you're not always going to get invited to the party.
It's not an indictment of my worth.
Wow, you're so emotionally tuned for your age, Oscar.
I wish I had that attitude when I was at Harvard.
I remember this one time -- yeesh!
I got rejected for the second time
to the Moss and Scones Society.
You should've seen my face reading that letter.
Ohh.
Actually, I can just show you for real.
Come this way, Oscar.
Warning -- It's smelly in here.
Whoa!
I don't think this place smells at all, Mortimer.
This pantry is bonkers.
My jars are over here.
Your jars? Yep.
These are all memories of my past.
"The founding of Trenton, 1784."
I remember that.
"Camping in the Pine Barrens with Jasper and Hester."
Ahh, takes me back.
"First date with 'C'"?
It's in the past.
Okay, okay. What's this one?
"Sad at Harvard."
Oh, that's the one we'll be using.
Each of these jars contains a combination of scents
from a specific time and place in the past.
You smell the scent and you are transported back.
So time travel!
Yes! But only to the past.
Cool!
Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We're just auditing the past, so don't get too involved.
Got it.
Wow!
Welcome to Harvard circa 1800s, Oscar.
How could you be sad at a place like this?
See what I mean?
Your face isn't as intense as your impressions,
but your lack of expression is somehow even more heartbreaking.
As if any moment, everything you're holding in
is going to completely fall apart.
Aah!
Save those tears for when we get back.
Oh, right. We're just auditing.
But this is pretty sad, Mortimer.
Yeah, it's sad. But the past is the past.
What're you gonna do? Ah-choo!
Oh? We're back already?
Hey, Mortimer, which memory can we try next?
Sorry, Oscar. Maybe another time.
Time travel always makes me a pinch...wistful.
I think I'm gonna head home too, Mortimer.
I need to lie down for a sec and steady my heart.
I hate to see Mortimer so sad.
What's the easiest way to help him?
Oh! I know!
I'll got back in time and make him feel better
about not getting into Moss and Scones.
I'm sure either Mortimer won't mind.
And I'm sure Melvin won't mind me borrowing his footie pajamas.
Gotta blend in.
All right.
It's not an indictment of your worth Mortimer.
I'm sorry, what? The invite.
Or not getting invited to the party.
It doesn't say anything about you.
I never said it did!
I'm just...rereading it for factual errors.
Hmm, yes, well, that's a run-on sentence.
Third paragraph could be cut out entirely, in my opinion.
This is none of your business anyway, stranger.
Stranger?
Come on, Mortimer. We're friends.
That can't be. I don't have any friends.
Okay, let's rewind.
I'm from the future. We're friends there.
Ah, okay. Well, that makes way more sense.
I always thought I'd live my life alone till the end.
So only my prime years will be wasted in isolation!
That's not what I was hoping you'd get out of that.
But good. We're all on the same page now.
And speaking of pages,
future you told me about this letter
and how it made you feel sad.
Mmh!
Let me stop you right there.
I'm not sad. But Mortimer...
You must be speaking about another Mortimer.
It's a common name. Common mistake.
But it clearly says "sad."
You're sure you're not feeling sad?
I'm not sad.
So nothing's going on, like, at all?
I said I'm fine.
You just love staring at ponds longingly?
I just come here when I want these waterlogged fallen leaves
to know that they were here,
that they were seen,
they existed and that they will be remembered.
Basically it's like doing laundry for me.
Nonemotional, routine errand like laundry.
I do it just about any time
I get one of these rejection letters.
There must be so much you're keeping inside, Mortimer.
So much sadness. Mmh!
What are you, some kind of child-witch of sensitivity?
You're gonna get us both in trouble if you keep this up.
You're from the future.
You should know emotions aren't allowed.
Now, leave me be. I'm going to class.
Not allowed?
Okay, class, today we shall continue our lesson
on the Great Repression.
Ahem, you're all very lucky to have been born during
the Great Repression, when we all get to live
cleanly, efficiently, and effectively,
with little to no risk of feeling-induced blunders.
The previous wretched epoch was like a protosociety.
Something much more rudimentary and crude.
"Crudimentory."
The social climate was one of emotional expression
and instability
which culminated in the London Square Tantrum,
where the townspeople united against child-witch Mildred!
Mildred...
It took us more than a century
to figure out what to do about our emotions,
and we finally found the perfect solution, which is...
We stuff them down inside and never express them.
That's not good.
We now know that emotions are a slippery slope
to tantrums, which are a direct route
to hands becoming feet and other disasters.
Don't eat your feelings.
Is there something being discussed
of a certain emotional density in the middle of the class?
I think what you're saying is wrong and bad!
Emotions are normal, and it's important to express them.
Oh!
Young man, regain your composure,
or people are going to think you're a child-witch.
Well, slap my ears and call me Mildred.
Get out of my class!
Oof! I'm sorry! I will pick them up.
Hey, I bumped into you and made you spill all your paper
on the wet floor.
Aren't you mad?
Yeah, you're upset, right? Pound me! Jab me!
Bring out the nasty, rotten feelings!
That's it.
Viva la emoción.
All right, time to learn more.
Time for the next class.
Oh! A highway bandit!
Knave! Leave our stagecoaches be.
Aah!
Mortimer, it's me.
Oh.
Sorry for the dramatics.
I was going for more "sad" than "creepy"
but then you fainted,
and I couldn't find the light switch in here
and it turned into a whole thing.
I am neither creeped out nor sad.
But there's no way that's true!
You got dumped by your crush, the Moss and Scones Society.
That sounds devastating.
I can't think of anything worse actually.
Wouldn't you say?
Wouldn't you say there's something?
A little lump of something?
Something stuck in your craw?
And wouldn't you say your eyes feel just a little bit misty?
Right there.
Ahem.
Ah. I couldn't do it.
I'm sorry, Mortimer. I failed you.
I failed past you, and I failed future you.
I'm not supposed to give you any spoilers,
but in the future, you're my friend.
You're everybody's friend.
And you're really important in the world.
But in the future, you're still really sad
about not getting into this club.
So I thought I'd help you out
and be as good a friend to you as you've been to me.
Wow, Oscar, that's so sad.
Almost as sad as me not getting into Moss and Scones!
That's it, buddy. Let it out.
I'm so sad!
I know. It's been tough.
Well...
I didn't get into that club.
I've been in the Mortimer Club my whole life.
I'd love to expand!
I think I can help you with that.
Mortimer. Yes?
We have a problem.
Something very dear to us has gone missing,
nowhere to be seen on this island.
Oh, dear.
This could be very bad for us.
This could disrupt the very fabric of our reality,
and an object of our love could be in very real danger!
Huh?!
I'm talking of course about my footie pajamas.
I cannot find them.
Warning -- It's smelly in here.