♪ Born on the wrong end Of the leash ♪
-♪ He was a dreamer ♪ -♪ And a little schemer ♪
♪ A nutty mutt living a dog's life ♪
♪ But when he'd hear the bell for school ♪
♪ He'd start to drool ♪
-♪ One day he says ♪ -♪ I'll take a chance ♪
♪ Trades his leash For a pair of pants ♪
♪ In a glance, school becomes His favorite pastime ♪
♪ I have buried a bone For the last time ♪
-♪ He says ♪ -♪ I want to be a boy ♪
♪ Ooh, he's bad ♪
♪ He's so over just being rover ♪
♪ I gotta be a boy ♪
♪ He says he's just gonna be a boy ♪
♪ Turns out he's a regular Einstein ♪
♪ And Leonard is treading a fine line ♪
Why can't I be a normal kid like any other?
Now, doodle bug, listen to mother.
♪ I want to be a boy ♪
I hate dogs.
♪ I gotta be a boy ♪
♪ This power pup's gonna be a boy ♪
I do not wish to be a dog.
♪ Now this bowser's ready for trousers ♪
♪ I got to be a boy ♪
♪ His nose is wet but you can bet ♪
♪ This teacher's pet is gonna be a boy ♪
Yes!
Leonard, sweetie, it's time for school.
We gotta lickety-scoot.
Hot diggity! P.B. And J.
And a delicious tangelo for dessert.
Or is this an orangine? I can never tell.
Peanut butter and jelly again? I'm a dog!
Sure, George Washington Carver invented
over 300 ways to use peanuts,
but he couldn't come up with just one
that doesn't stick to the roof of a dog's mouth.
Happy?
You're a pal! I owe ya.
All righty then, let's go!
Leaving? What about my breakfast?
Most important meal of the day.
Where's my milk?!
Ugh! Think, kitty, think.
Ah-- the purr thing.
[purring]
Oh-- can't leave Mr. Jolly without his morning milk treat.
Ooh, thank you, thank you, thank you.
Now get out of the way. I'm starving.
I hate when she drives him to school.
Ahhhh.
[burps]
Pardonnez-moi.
Now for a nice midmorning siesta.
[snoring]
[grumbling]
Huh? Huh? What?
Oh. It's quarter to 8:00.
What?
Quarter to 8:00.
That's a wonderful impression of a cuckoo bird.
But if you don't mind, I'm trying to sleep.
I'll give you an impression-- right on your head!
You asked me what time it was.
I most certainly did not!
And there is no need to take that tone
just because you woke up on the wrong side of the perch.
I didn't say a word-- not a chirp or even a peep!
I'm telling you, it was you!
That's ridiculous, absurd, and a little bit mean.
[sloshing]
Oh, sweet sandbox, no!
That horrible, uncouth, almost-alien sound!
[sloshing]
It's coming from me!
Congrats, Sherlock. Cracked another case.
I don't know how you do it.
[sloshing]
Kids, once in your elementary-school career
do you get an opportunity such as I am about to offer you.
I am giving this class the honor of performing
at the annual district school principals' showcase!
You will perform my personal favorite,
the great American square dance!
Square dancing? Ew!
Come on!
What they mean by "ew" is, "we'd be honored."
Yee-haw! A chance to dance in front of others--
in a square!
That's the spirit! And, uh, one more thing--
Nash Brickler, the principal of Southwest East Westland,
will be there, too,
so let's have fun, put on a great show,
and above all, make sure you don't embarrass me,
or you'll regret it for the rest of your lives!
Well, isn't that inspiring?
Okey-dokey, then, let's push back your desks.
Girls in one line, boys in another.
You know what this means?
Red rover, red rover, let the girls come over?
No, this is my chance.
I could be partnered with Leslie Dunkling.
Mmm... not likely.
Rules of random selection
applied to the frequency interpretation formula,
vis-à-vis statistical analysis,
not to mention your unfailingly bad luck,
weigh heavily against it.
Kelsey and Taylor.
Out of the way!
I gotta stand here so I can be partnered
with my girlfriend...
Ruth.
But if I refigure random chance--
insert square dancer Leonard over pi here,
boy-girl cosine here, and...
Move over, Darwin.
I'm toying with natural selection.
And Leslie Dunkling,
you'll be with Leonard Helperman.
Yes!
Nothing a friend wouldn't do for a friend.
Besides, I owed you for that ham slice.
And, Ruth, your partner is Scott Leadready II.
Huh?
Hey! I'm supposed to be with Ruth!
I had myself all lined up!
Thank you.
You did until Scott Leadready slipped into your space.
Nice work, you sly dog, you!
[snarls]
Me, a dog? I don't know what you're talking about.
Just a figure of speech, Tallulah!
He stole my Ruth!
And, Ian Wazselewski, as odd boy out,
I'm making you honorary caller.
Finally, my oddness has paid off!
Okay. What do I get to do?
You get to stand by the record player and do nothing.
What's a record player?
Okay, everybody, a few basics-- caller here.
That makes the closest couple the head couple.
To their right, the second couple.
That makes this the third couple, and this the fourth.
Be warned, Scott Leadready II--
you'll regret the day you came between me and the girl I love!
I'll be watching your every move!
You won't see me...
'Cause I'll be lurking!
How will that be any different than usual?
Girls are called "ladies," and boys, "gents."
Lucky for us.
Watch and learn. Shall we?
My mom and Principal Strickler? How embarrassing!
Hit it, Mr. Wazselewski!
[square-dance music plays]
♪ Grab your partner by the hand ♪
♪ Swing her 'round this great big land ♪
♪ Corral your dogie with your right ♪
♪ Twirl her 'round with all your might ♪
[finale plays]
You better keep your distance!
It's a square dance. You have to hold hands.
Otherwise, it's break dancing.
Sorry, Leonard. I-I-I just can't.
Oh, no.
What's the matter?
My hands got all sweaty.
Is it the dancing? You don't know how to dance?
Or are you nervous about Leslie?
I think it's all those things.
Why couldn't you be a dog like everybody else's dog
and stay at home?
Why'd you have to go to school? Why'd you have to pair us up?
Hold up, there, pilgrim.
I got you into this mess. I'll get you out.
[snoring]
[growling, sloshing]
Hey, stick a sock in it. I'm going crazy here.
I can't sleep, I can't hear my soaps!
Believe me, I'm trying to keep it quiet,
but nothing I do helps.
[growling, sloshing]
[sloshing]
Okay, that's the last straw.
Here, chew on this grass.
I understand it's good
for anything with four paws and fur.
[mumbles]
I feel worse!
Of course you feel worse. You just ate grass.
Try this cod-liver oil.
Sailors swear by this stuff.
Oy!
Now I know why they swear. It tastes awful.
[growling]
I was saving the big guns for last.
Here-- nibble on these sunflower seeds.
It's an old family remedy.
Mmm.
Hey, I don't hear a thing.
That's better, right?
I'm quiet!
I'm quiet.
[rumbling]
[burps]
But I'm sick!
I think your problem is all in your head.
It's in my hands.
Work with me here.
[German accent] What would Sigmund Freud,
the father of modern psychiatry, do in this situation?
Ein rorschach test...
[sighs]
["The Blue Danube" playing]
...or what you would call "the inkblot test."
What does this look like?
Leslie.
Und this?
Leslie running away from my wet hands.
Und this?
Me, dancing by myself.
That's it!
I have the answer to your problems!
What? What? Can you help me?
Ooh, sorry. Your time is up.
[normal voice] Ha ha! Just kidding!
You just need confidence on the dance floor.
Then your problem will go away.
Of course, I can help.
Dancing is in my blood.
I am dance!
When man stumbled from his cave and discovered fire,
I was there.
When Terpsichore the muse inspired the Greeks,
I was there.
So was Helen of Troy.
Ooh, what a babe!
When King Henry VIII got married,
I was there-- all six times.
He loved to dance!
Wherever families come together to celebrate weddings,
oh, I'll be there!
What better way to keep from talking to the new in-laws?
Hear that rhythm?
It's the rhythm of life-- like a heartbeat.
Leonard, stop thinking about dancing.
Become the dance!
[show music playing]
Ow!
Sorry-- sorry.
[grunting]
No problem. You're light as a feather.
It's all right. I've got three more.
What if I step on Leslie's foot?
Ow! Ow, ow!
Ugh! You clod!
I'll never dance with you again!
Oh, you won't be worrying about stepping on her foot.
You'll be too busy listening to the caller.
Wouldn't want to be do-si-doing when you should be promenading!
Or allemande left instead of right.
I didn't even think
of all the other things that could go wrong!
Oops-- me and my big mouth.
Trust me, kid, you can do it!
Mmm.
[growling]
That's it!
Time to get to the bottom of this colonic cacophony.
Heartbeat's fine.
How old are you? 60? 70?
What? I'm not that old.
Cat years-- I'm taking cat years here!
You're not as young as you used to be.
What did you eat today?
Oh. Well, uh, the usual--
milk, cream, cheese, cream cheese,
ice cream, ice milk, buttermilk...
But I don't see what that--
wake up and smell the cholesterol, cheese brain!
You're lactose intolerant.
That's why your innards make loud, embarrassing noises.
Lactose intolerant? Don't be ridiculous!
How could I be intolerant of something I love so much?
[growling, sloshing]
Great balls of gouda, you're right!
What can I do?
Just say no to milk, cheese,
and all milky, cheesy byproducts.
Oh!
So let me get this straight--
you're suggesting a life without dairy?
Exactly.
Ooh, the vapors!
And so, sir, you can see
why I need to be excused from square-dancing.
Oh, Leonard, Leonard, Leonard...
In all my years as principal,
that is the best excuse I ever heard.
And I'm sure if you were to submit it
to the make-an-excuse foundation,
they would gladly make you their poster child.
Now get this through
your fourth-grade, video-game-besotted brain--
no one graduates from this school
without square-dancing!
Do I make myself clear?!
[square-dance music playing]
♪ Bow to your partner, Reach for their hand ♪
♪ Spin 'em in a circle to the Beat of the band ♪
♪ Promenade all around the hall ♪
♪ Head on home, and do-si-do all ♪
♪ Grab your partner by the hand ♪
♪ Swing her 'round this great big land ♪
♪ Corral your dogie with your right ♪
♪ Twirl her 'round with all your might ♪
[gasping]
[gasps]
Huh?
Leonard!
Leonard, wake up.
Huh?
I was square-dancing with Leslie,
and everything was fine until we touched hands.
I-I started sweating and--
It's okay. You were having a nightmare.
Not a whimpering, obedience-school,
show-up-late-for-the-final-exam, haven't-been-there-all-semester,
kick-your-legs kind of nightmare,
but a nightmare nonetheless.
Maybe it was all a bad dream.
None of it happened.
There is no square-dance showcase!
I'm not dancing with Leslie!
My palms were never sweaty.
[Mrs. Helperman] Rise and shine!
Got a great big surprise for my great big square-dancing boy!
Hey, maybe this is a hackie, clichéd psycho-thriller film,
and you'll wake up a second time.
Do-si-do your tush out of the bed!
Nope, it's reality.
So, what do you think, honey?
Isn't it the bee's knees?
Uh...
And look-- I made you a matching shirt
from the leftover material.
Ha ha-- waste not, want not.
Mom, how could you do such a thing?
I thought matching homemade outfits would be nice.
Only geeks wear homemade square-dancing shirts!
Oh, Tallulah...
Only the coolest people
wear homemade square-dancing shirts.
Oh, Mr. Jolly-wolly, I almost forgot your treat!
Remember, you can't have this stuff!
I know I shouldn't drink it,
but it's sitting there right in front of me,
calling to me-- it's begging me to drink it!
I can't let you.
You know what it will do to your stomach-- and my ears!
Those horrible, offensive sounds!
But look at me!
I'm wasting away. I'm just skin and bones!
You're skin and fat.
[evil voice] Get out of the way,
or I'll go right through you!
That's it.
I have no recourse but to revert to aversion therapy.
This is gonna hurt you more than it's going to hurt me!
What do you think of your precious milk now?!
It's bathwater!
You want to drink feather-soaked bathwater?!
It's disgusting!
Hey, why are you looking at me that way?
Get away from me!
Aaaaah!
[growling, sloshing]
[ringing]
Okey-dokey, Principal Strickler,
we're ready to rehearse.
Excellent, Mrs. Helperman.
You can do this, Leonard.
You are a picture of confidence.
Say, "I'm confident."
I'm confident.
Confident...
I'm confident. I'm--
[squeals] Sweating like a pig.
Ugh.
Okay. Plan "B"-- we attack the symptoms.
This should keep your hands dry...
And springtime fresh, hour after hour,
because you are a woman on the go.
Sorry. It's your mother's antiperspirant.
I was in a bind.
What the heck-- you're in the pits anyway.
Oh, no-- clammy hands!
Plan "C"-- hypnosis.
Look deep into my eyes.
You are sleepy.
You're not in Mrs. Helperman's fourth-grade classroom.
You're in the foreign legion, marching--
marching in the dry desert heat.
Sapped of every ounce of liquid, you're parched.
When I snap my fingers, you will awaken,
and your hands will be dry.
Anything?
Nope.
Nothing's working. What am I gonna do?
Hey, pal, don't get down on yourself.
We're only up to plan "D."
There's 26 letters in the alphabet.
Ergo, 22 letters remain.
I don't have time for 22 plans.
The dance is tomorrow!
That's okay.
I couldn't come up with 22 plans anyway.
I do have one plan.
I was saving it for last.
It's crazy, but...
Just crazy enough to work.
What is it? I'll try anything.
It's called the truth.
You're gonna have to face Leslie and tell her the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
That's your plan?
"I'm a sweaty-palmed, square-dancing freak."
Not exactly the words I'd use,
but you get the gist.
Oh, everybody looks so hoedownedly dapper!
Whoa, partner! Let me corral that cowlick.
Mom!
Scott, what a cute shirt.
It matches my dress.
You have the same taste in western wear that I do.
Places, everyone!
Listen, son, I know you're nervous, scared,
got a lot riding on your shoulders,
feel like you wanna crawl into a hole and die.
So I'm gonna tell you what my principal said to me
the first time I stepped out
in front of a square-dancing crowd.
I think it'll help.
Mess this up,
and I'll hold you back for the next six years!
Remember, Leonard,
the truth shall set you free.
This may sound strange
coming from a dog pretending to be a boy,
but until you let the world see you as you really are,
sweaty palms and all,
you'll never be happy.
I guess you're right.
I've gotta tell the truth.
I've got to tell the truth.
Leslie...I have something to tell you.
Leonard, I have something to tell you.
You do?
The reason I never wanted to hold your hands is...
Because I'm embarrassed.
I-I never danced with a boy before,
and my hands got all sweaty.
I thought you would think I was yucky.
You? Yucky?
Oh, no, Leslie. I'm yucky.
I'm the yuckiest kid in the class.
The reason I avoided holding your hand
is 'cause my hands are sweaty.
You're not just saying that to be nice,
are you, Leonard Helperman?
No, my hands are really sweaty.
I've tried everything,
but I guess I'm so nervous, my hands just sweat.
Mine too!
-Yay! -Yay!
Ha ha! Yeah!
Can you believe it?
I'm not the only one with sweaty palms.
Leslie's got them, too.
I guess you've learned something important, Leonard.
In that sea of sweat, there is an island,
and that island is called "you are not alone."
Perhaps now you'll understand why no man is an island.
[feedback]
Ladies and gentlemen, fellow principals,
I present the East Westland fourth graders
of Mrs. Helperman's class,
who will demonstrate a classic American folk tradition--
the square dance!
[square-dance music plays]
♪ Bow to your partner, Reach for their hand ♪
♪ Spin 'em in a circle to the Beat of the band ♪
♪ Promenade all around the hall ♪
♪ Head on home and do-si-do all ♪
You're finished, Scott Leadready II!
Behold the wrath of Ian Wazselewski's scorn!
♪ Let go of that girl, She's full of germs ♪
♪ Wiggle on the floor like a Bunch of worms ♪
♪ Spin Scott Leadready till he's dizzy ♪
♪ Muss his hair and make it frizzy ♪
[snorts, laughs]
♪ Allemande left and stick out your tush ♪
♪ When Scott comes along, Just give him a push ♪
[audience gasps]
[gasping]
[weakly] Keep dancing.
The show must go on!
[cheering]
[square-dance music plays]
Son, you are gifted.
Never before have I witnessed such an exquisite call.
You have a brilliant future in the dance we call "square"!
Be strong, Jolly.
Ugh! Ugh! I want it.
But I mustn't! Oh, please give me strength!
[grunting]
Oh, dearie-- he really doesn't like it.
I guess my little soy milk experiment didn't work.
Soy milk? Are you kidding me?
No wonder my tummy was upset.
I don't drink milk from beans.
Moo!
Ah, ambrosia-- sweet nectar of the gods!
Mmm.
Nothing-- not a sound.
Whoo-hoo! Hallelujah!
Peace at last!
Well, guess we'll have to get that extra weight
off my little purry-wurry with a diet.
Huh?
Ohh!