Of the leash
-
living a dog's life
the bell for school
-
For a pair of pants
His favorite pastime
For the last time
-
regular Einstein
treading a fine line
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.
ready for trousers
is gonna be a boy
Yes!
118...
119...
Spot, you got to be tired of this by now.
Oh, a dog may tire of rawhide chewies,
he may tire of baying at the moon.
But as sure as our phylum is canis familiaris,
we will never tire of the grand, old game of fetch-it.
Throw.
I don't get what you see in this stupid game, anyway.
It's just the same thing
over and over and over and over and--
Yeah. Ain't it great?
I wasn't finished-- and over and over and over.
The problem is, Leonard,
you seem to be missing the subtleties of this fine sport.
Observe--
the thrower rears back-- click!
The fetcher hones in on the ball's force and probable trajectory.
Zap! The thrower heaves it. Zip!
The fetcher hurdles himself after it, tracking like radar!
Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Wait! He's misjudged it!
Scurry, scurry, scurry, stretch!
He tries to get traction!
He slams on the brakes, makes a leap backward, and grabs it!
The crowd goes nuts-- ahhh!
Oh, baby, it doesn't get any better than this!
Right. Then he trots back and drops
a spit-soaked, filthy, disgusting ball
on the thrower's shoe.
Oh. I see what you're saying. You want a little taste.
Me? Gimme a break.
I'm not gonna run after some dumb--
Go!
That was great! Throw it again!
Well, I don't know.
It's getting kind of boring
throwing it over and over and--
Go!
Good boy.
Man, there's nothing good to do.
Yeah. We've done it all.
Played it all.
Yeah, picked it off and eaten it all.
Hey, how about a game of capture the flag?
Did it.
Dodge ball?!
Did it.
Foursquare?
Did it.
Saliva tag?!
"How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
seem to me all the uses of this world"--
"Hamlet," Act 1, Scene 2.
Man, that's deep. What does it mean?
It means I'm so bored now,
even a drink of water sounds more interesting.
Where does he get all this stuff?
It's called "reading," fellas!
Um, you know, yesterday,
I was kind of playing a sort of fun new game.
Leonard, you have an idea?
Don't say it! Don't say it!
You can't risk looking like a dork
if they all think it's a dumb idea.
Don't listen to him. You got a fun, new game.
Put it out there. Go for it!
Yeah, but if it comes from you,
everyone will think it's totally lame,
'cause you never think of anything good.
Yeah, he's right. You're such a loser--
hey, wait. Now you've got me talking like you.
Come on, take a shot.
What's the worst that can happen?
Fetch-it ball.
Did you just sneeze?
No, Leslie, I didn't sneeze.
I just suggested a new game we could all play.
Who just said that?
Hurry up!
I can't hold him much longer!
Fetch-it ball?
Sounds cool.
How do you play it, dude?
Oh, well, um, it's really easy.
One person throws the ball,
and the other person chases it and brings it back.
Are they on different teams?
Sure, why not?
We'll have the thrower team and the fetcher team.
I call thrower!
I got fetcher!
I call first fetch!
Guys, guys, everyone's gonna get a chance to throw and fetch,
'cause the teams switch sides
every inning-- quarter--round?
This game has inning quarter round periods?
Yeah, but we just call them "roundies" for short.
Come on. Let's go play.
-Yeah! -Yeah!
Okay, now, if you fetch the ball before it hits the ground,
it's worth, um, 5 points-- oh, and a free fetch.
But if it bounces, then you lose your free fetch
and take away one point for each time it bounced.
I'll show you. Tyler, throw me the ball.
Ahh!
Ugh!
That's called a "headie."
The fetcher gets 10 points for that,
plus a free throw back to the thrower,
who has to fetch it now.
Ready?
Faking's fair. Go!
-Fetch that ball! Hey! -Fetch that ball! Hey!
-Fetch that ball! -Fetch that ball!
He's no fetcher! Find a better catcher!
Ahh. Well, that was a long, but boring drink.
Fetch it! Go, man!
Oh, botched fetch.
My Nana can fetch better than you.
Oh, yeah? Bring her on! I can outfetch her any day!
Come on, everybody.
Let's just call a refetch and get on with the game.
Do my eyes deceive me? What in blue blazes--
Can it possibly be?
Perhaps I should shut up and just go find out.
Hey, hey, what up? What are we doing?
Playing fetch-it ball.
That's what I thought. I love this game!
Yeah. Leonard invented it all by himself.
Can you believe it? He had the coolest idea
anybody ever had on this whole playground ever!
Leonard invented it?
Well, good for Leonard.
He finally got himself a little bit of recognition.
Yeah, for your great idea.
Leonard! Leonard! Leonard! Leonard!
Scott! Scott! Scott!
You're the one they should be cheering and huzzahing.
Why, weak Scott, I do believe you're jealous.
Me? Jealous? Don't be ridiculous, strong Scott.
I'm nothing like jealous.
I don't have a jealous bone in my body!
Of course I'm jealous!
I have every right to be jealous!
Are you with me?! Are we jealous or what?!
Don't listen to him.
Don't give in to such a petty human emotion as jealousy.
Too late.
Oh, man, we were just starting to have
the best recess game of our lives.
That's okay, Leslie. Everyone, we can play again after school.
Yeah!
And maybe we'll challenge those big, bragging fifth graders
to a little fetch-it ball match--
see how good they are at our game.
You mean your game, Leonard. You deserve all the credit.
Oh, gee--I mean, gosh-- I mean, gee.
Well, well, well.
You go for a little drink of water,
and you find out who your real friends are.
Oh, Scott, there you are.
Shoot, you missed the whole game.
But that's okay. We're playing again later.
You want to be on my team?
Oh, gee. I don't know. What if I'm not any good?
I mean, fetch-it ball is your game,
isn't it, old Mr. Leonard Doubleday--
or is that "double cross"?!
What are you talking about?
Abner Doubleday-- 1818 to 1893--
the noted civil war general commonly credited
with inventing our all-American pastime--
the great game of baseball--
in Cooperstown, New York, circa 1839.
But in reality,
history shows that the vaunted Mr. Doubleday
did not know a baseball from a kumquat.
The truth is that baseball really evolved
from the English game of rounders
and was adapted into the game we now know and love
by the little-known, unheralded
Mr. Alexander Cartwright.
Abner Doubleday! Abner Doubleday! Abner Doubleday!
Who's that?
I never heard of him.
My point exactly.
And how do you think
that made poor, old Al Cartwright feel, pallie?
Poor, old Mr. Cartwright.
That must have been really tough to have done something great,
like bring a whole new game to the world,
and then not get any credit for it.
I knew you'd see my point.
I sure am glad everyone knows
I'm the guy who invented fetch-it ball.
Y-You did not! That's my game!
What are you talking about, Scott?
Your game was fetch-it. I'm the one who added the ball.
There was already a ball!
You just added the word "ball" to "fetch-it"
and--and called it a game!
A team sport, which I turned it into myself
while you were getting a drink of water.
And you're just jealous, 'cause for once in my life,
I thought of something new
that everyone thinks is the funnest game they ever played!
For the nonce, little boy, for the nonce--
enjoy your moment in the sun.
There's a funner game a-coming,
just as soon as I think it up.
Good afternoon, everybody.
It's a beautiful day out here
at the empty lot across from the Helperman's house.
And don't you know, the fourth-grade fetch-it ballers
are ready to rock and roll!!
We will now have a short pause
while I enjoy a mentholated throat lozenge.
Let's play some fetch-it ball!
A game, a game, a game--
and it's got to be a good one.
And it's got to be fun.
And it's got to destroy fetch-it ball.
What is it? What is it? Come on, think.
Fetch the stick? Fetch the piece of hot dog?
Fetch the rolled-up dirty socks? Oh, my goodness!
Realization-- they're all the same.
Every good dog game is just a variation
on the classic, much better game of fetch-it.
I might as well face it. We live to fetch and eat.
Hey--eat-it ball?
Nah.
Oh, spot, you're thinking just so in the box.
What makes fetch-it ball a hit
is it's completely original.
There's nothing else like it.
Now, if you really want to get their attention,
you need something just as unique.
If I may, we cats have a game we love,
and I think it might
take your little fourth-grade sports nuts by storm.
Tell. Tell!
Well, the first player picks up
a little cloth mouse filled with catnip.
Yeah?
And he throws it far, far, far away as he can.
So, the other player must run like the wind.
He captures that mouse and returns to player one,
so he might throw it again.
And this would be different from fetch-it ball how?
Well, if you have to ask a question like that,
you obviously know nothing about catnip.
Mmm. Mmm. Catnip.
Sure would be sweet to roll on my cheek
and drool on some catty catty nip nip.
Where did I put it last?
Oy, him and his toys.
A game, a game. A game!
Ahem.
What?
Well, aren't you gonna ask me what birds like to play?
Everyone knows we're the most playful species on earth.
You teach those kids one of our great bird games,
they'll be bowing at your feet and kissing your ring, baby!
Okay, you got me. I'm desperate. What do birds like to play?
Come on, boys. Let's show him.
First, you all get together and stand in a big line.
See? What are you doing, schlepper? Write this down.
Okay, okay.
Dogs.
Then whoever's the leader
gives some kind of prearranged signal.
Good. Signals are good.
Then you all break into a dead run.
Excellent. What's a sport without running?
And you get up to the very top speed you can feasibly attain.
I love it!
This is gonna make Leonard's fetch-it ball look so lame!
At the last possible second,
you spread your wings, take off into the air,
and fly as fast as you can,
under the phone wires, around the trees,
over the rooftops.
Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy...
We can't play that game.
Kids can't fly.
Doesn't make it not a great game!
A game, a game. A game!
Maybe if I had a little drink of water.
It'll clear my head. No, wait.
Going for a little drink of water was how this whole mess started.
Oh, great. Now I'm miserable and thirsty.
Hey, is there a game in that?
Oh, man, this fetch-it ball is the bomb!
I thought all fourth graders were lame twerps,
but, Helperman, you thought of an awesome game.
Thanks, Max.
Fifth grade--66 points, fourth grade--zilch.
We're up.
Thanks a lot.
Ugh!
Score!
Fifth grade--67, fourth grade--zero.
I don't think that's how the game is supposed to go.
Give me flying any day.
Fifth grade--68, fourth grade--zip.
Ugh!
Hey! That's not part of the game!
Fifth grade--69, fourth grade--zip.
We're here just before halftime
with the inventor of fetch-it ball.
Tell me, Leonard, is the fact that you're here,
lying facedown in the mud, losing 69 to 0,
part of some overall fourth-grade strategy,
or was this all just a huge mistake?
And can we look forward to you running home,
pulling the covers over your head,
and crying yourself to sleep?
We're not giving up.
We're coming back in the second half. Ugh!
Mmm.
Clay-based,
but without the annoying sulfur aftertaste.
Fifth grade--70, fourth grade--zip.
Well, if I'm not gonna think of a new game,
and I'm not gonna have a drink of water,
I guess I'll just have to--
Hey! Whoa! And aha! That's it!
Why didn't I think of it before?
Whoo! And at the half,
it's fifth grade--72, fourth grade--zip.
See what I mean about ugly? This is a massacre.
Pretty Boy, what if the earth,
instead of being a complex planet teeming with life,
is really just a tiny molecule
on some giant's fingernail?
All right, that's it.
And this is the last time I'm taking you to a ballgame!
Oh, I'm sorry.
There was a mistake in the scorekeeping.
It's fifth grade--82, fourth grade--zip.
Oy, this is pathetic. Spot, you got to do something.
Spot?
Okay. This is the left end line.
If any part of your body touches it,
you're out of bounds
with a 2-yard penalty assessed to the next go-round
this sounds way better than that decrepit fetch-it ball.
Come on, let's just play.
You're going down, mister. You're gonna eat my dust!
You're gonna be running home to mama, crying,
"Ian wiped the floor with me!"
I'm thinking of adding a 5-yard penalty for trash talking.
May the best man win.
Mm-hmm.
-Okay. -Ready... set...
Go!
See? Isn't this fun?
Are you kidding me?
This makes losing fetch-it ball 82 to zip look fun.
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Speaking of which, it's almost time for the second half!
I got a hunger for some mud!
Abandoned by Ian Wazselewski--
the low point in my career as a boy.
Psst. Fur face, there you are. Get over here!
What do you want?
The fourth-grade team is dying out there!
Yeah, I heard--82 to zip.
Maybe they'd do better at a game they didn't steal.
You know, you were a lot more fun when you were just a dog.
My point is, you're the only one who can save them, Scott.
You're the greatest fetch-it ballplayer in the world.
If you don't get them out of this,
your best friend may never be able to hold his head up again.
And if he can't hold his head up,
how's he gonna feed the bird?
Or toss my beloved catnip mouse?
Will you shack it already?
I've had it up to here with the mouse.
So, what do you say, Scott?
Well...
Say no-- let Leonard twist in the wind
with his precious fetch-it ball.
That'll show him for not giving you credit where credit's due.
Don't listen to your weaker self, Scott.
He'll just have you sitting here all alone and moping by yourself.
Be strong. Rise above your jealousy.
You're a dog first, loyal and true.
And there's nothing you love more than playing fetch--
I mean, there's nothing you love more than Leonard.
Okay!
I'll play for the team.
Really? That's great, just great!
Boy, those fifth graders are really gonna see some fetch-it ball now.
I'll play with one small proviso.
Proviso?
It means "condition."
I guess I should have said "condition,"
but "proviso" is a much cooler-sounding word,
and you hardly ever get to use it in daily conversation.
What is it? What's the condition?
Well, before we start the second half,
you have to tell them I thought of the game.
Now? Here?! But I'll look so lame!
That's my condition.
I mean, I admit,
maybe I should have said it was both of our game
way back in the beginning.
Boy, was that just today?
Everything happened so fast,
and everyone was having so much fun and liking me so much
that--I don't know-- it just never came up.
But if it comes up now, Scott, won't I just look dumb?
One man's dumb is another man's rightful credit
for inventing a great game that everyone loves and wants to win.
Oh, okay.
Well, now are you happy?
Ooh, yeah!
Um, team, before we start the second half,
there's, uh, something I have to tell you.
-Yeah, Captain? -What is it, boss?
Are you okay, Leonard?
Um, well, no, I'm not okay.
See, this is really embarrassing,
but, well, you guys, I didn't really think of--
I mean, I can't take the credit for--
I mean, Scott's really the one who--who--
who's been secretly drilling and practicing nonstop
and is now ready to get out there
and lead the fourth-grade team
to a surprise comeback victory
in the game my best friend, Leonard, invented.
But which I never would have thought of
if my best friend, Scott,
hadn't actually fetched the first fetch-it ball
in the first place.
So, really, your applause and almost all of the credit
should go to him.
Oh, thank you,
but, no, it was my best friend, Leonard,
who turned it into the sport you so love,
so let's hear it for him!
No. Now, to be fair,
if you're going to applaud anyone, it should be--
my hands are starting to turn red!
Could we just play ball?!
Go!
-Yay, Leonard and Scott! -Yay, Leonard and Scott!
The sun is a-shining, not a cloud in the sky.
Pal o'mine, it's another great fetch-it ball morning.
Look, everyone's already out playing--
hey, wait a minute.
That doesn't look like fetch-it ball.
Hi, Scott. Hi, Leonard. Come play Ian's great new game.
All you have to do is run around in circles,
sit down on the ground, and see
who can bite the backside of their own leg fastest.
It's really fun.
Ian, I'd like to have a word with you.
Uh-oh.
I wonder if Edison had this problem.