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!
Okey-dokey, dominokey.
We've got your protein for brain food,
your complex carbs to keep Mr. Blood Sugar up,
and a squidge of syrup
just 'cause you're so sweet.
I cannot eat all this, mom.
Do your best.
Big exam today--
the National Aptitude Scholastic Test Yearly,
or N.A.S.T.Y. for short,
but it won't be if you're prepared.
Ha ha ha.
This is perfect. The biggest test of my academic career,
and what's supposed to fortify me?
"Poultry byproducts, corn gluten meal,
ferrosulfate hydrochloride, and manganese oxide"?
I got to get me some real food.
Psst! Leonard!
Go for it.
Mmm-mmm, protein at last.
Ahh.
Now I feel the old synapses starting to fire.
Spot, get down!
Leonard, don't let him eat off your dish!
Darn.
My mom made me eat three bowls of oatmeal
and last night's ham.
I had to finish a protein shake
and two granola bars.
I polished off a tasty fish head,
eyes and all.
Mmm. Even better the second time.
Of the grinding blade
And so does my brain
Of the grinding blade
And so does my brain
Excuse me.
The rest of us have pencils, too.
Ha ha. Sorry.
All righty, mighty test-takers,
don't turn your booklets over till I say go. Go!
That always cracks me up.
" B"-- the answer is "B".
Just find the little "B" bubble
and fill it in.
Is that dark enough?
No, no, it should be darker. There, that's dark enough.
Darn! I made a hole in the paper.
Da-da-da-da
Shush!
Sorry, sister. My bad.
Boys and girls, I have the results
of the N.A.S.T.Y. test you took last week,
and there's great news.
One of our students has achieved the highest score
in the history of the fourth grade
at this school.
Was it me?
Yeah, right. It was Scott Leadready II.
Me? Ha ha ha. I had no idea.
I don't have anything prepared.
Oh, what is it, Tallulah?
Why are you acting so strangely?
Is it because perhaps you know
that Scott Leadready is no ordinary fourth-grade boy?
What? Yes, I am.
No, you're not!
With a N.A.S.T.Y. Test score like this,
you've just been promoted to the fifth grade.
Ah, the fifth grade.
It seems like just yesterday I was in the fourth grade.
It was just yesterday.
My, how time flies.
Just think, at the rate I'm going,
this time next year I could be in college.
Isn't it enough
that you're going to be a grade ahead of me?
Perhaps for some, but now that I've had a taste of life
in the fast lane,
I don't know that I can ever drive the speed limit.
Here comes Scott.
-Ooh, he's a special boy! -Man, he's so cool!
Hey, Scott, remember us?
Why, no, I don't believe I--
of course I do!
-He's so funny. -Ooh, he's dreamy.
Oh, man.
Of all the dogs they could have promoted...
Well, Leonard, it's been a slice of cheese,
but the fifth grade awaits.
Farewell. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
Bill Shakespeare-- big fifth grade writer.
Hey! Aren't you the new fifth grader?
Yes, sir, sir. That I am, sir.
What are you doing out here lollygagging?
We got work to do, mister!
Wow, it is bigger in fifth grade.
Hey, is that stubble on your chin?
No, dufus, it's ink from my pen.
Wow, they use ink in fifth grade.
Everything is happening so fast.
Okay, everyone got that down?
Uh, wait a sec.
Do we have a problem, Mr. Leadready?
Who, sir? Me, sir? No, sir.
Hey, ever been to Big Sur, sir?
Zip it.
Yes, sir. Oh, kind of surly, sir.
Well, I said I wanted a challenge.
Okay, finished my 15 minutes of silent reading.
Homework's done. Time to play.
Come on, Spot, let's go throw a ball around.
I can't.
I've got 43 more pre-algebra problems,
100 vocabulary words to look up,
and I'm supposed to outline the next eight chapters
of "Health For Kids, Grade Five."
Ah, it's nice to just be a pet,
isn't it, Mr. Jolly?
Oh, indubitably, Pretty Boy.
No stress, no worries.
Someone else takes care
of your every whim, your every need.
Ha ha ha.
All you got to do is play dumb,
but you, you're too dumb to play dumb.
Ha ha ha!
Hey, Pretty Boy, Mr. Jolly, want to play?
When you love your work, it's not work.
It is play.
You're it. Ha ha ha!
Oop, you missed me.
Ha ha ha!
Whoo-hoo! Whoa! Ha ha ha.
Hurry up. We're going to be late for school.
Uh, sorry, but some of us have a little more
in their backpack than just lunch--
Shakespeare, pre-algebra...ugh!
Yeah, yeah, just come on.
I don't want to be tardy.
We're having a storyteller come to class today.
A storyteller? Oh.
I remember storytellers.
They talk, and all you got to do is listen.
Not nearly as rewarding as Shakespeare,
but fun in a fourth grade kind of way.
Hey, Leadready, what are you doing
hanging around that kindergartner?
I'm not a kindergartner. I'm a fourth grader.
Tell them.
Uh, yeah, right. I'll go set them straight.
Uh, look, fellas,
I helped him cross the street
and then I didn't have the heart to ditch him.
He wanted to hang with a fifth grader.
What are you going to do, right, homeys?
Hi, Scott.
Uh, yo, Scott,
uh, there's your little buddy again.
Um, oh, so it is.
Hey, let's give him a thrill--
let him spend recess with the big kids.
Really? You mean it?
Uh, yeah, sure. Go get him.
It'll be a blast.
Hey, they want you to come hang out with us.
Get out!
No, really.
Really? Well, okay.
H-Hi. Hi, guys.
Hey! Oh! Whoa!
Hey, guys, I'm claustrophobic.
Come on! Get me out of here!
Hey, hey! What are you doing, guys?
Oh, my gosh. I can't believe it.
I was part of a dastardly plot
to trash-can my best friend.
What have I become?
You're a fifth grader, man.
Come on. Let's go do some more.
Trash can! Trash can! Trash can! Trash can!
Leonard, I didn't mean to, um...
I-I didn't want to, uh, have--
I tried to, um...
Oh.
Oh, nothing feels right to me anymore, Mrs. H.
I miss the fourth grade.
I miss salt-and-flour maps of South American countries
and multiplying with jellybeans.
I miss singing protest songs
on Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday.
And most of all, I miss my friend Leonard.
He's my pal.
I want to go through the grades
with him by my side,
not upside down in a trash can.
What?
Uh, that's just a for-instance.
Aw, don't you see what I'm sayin' here, teach?
I thought I was ready to grow up,
but I was wrong.
I love the fourth grade and I want to come back.
I want to be here now!
Well, if that doesn't just make me want to cry,
I don't know what.
Oh, come here.
Hey, what do you want to do, Miles?
I don't know.
Say, Max, we haven't trash-canned
any little kids in a while.
And don't bother us anymore!
Hold on, buddy. I'll get you out of there.
How come nobody likes this?
Ew!
I am dog. Ergo, I drool.
Leonard, honey, I've got to trit-trot next door
and borrow a bag of broccoli for dinner tonight.
Stay in the yard and keep an eye on Spot, okay?
Okay, Mom!
Hey, you hear that, Leonard?
No.
Just wait, boy ears. You will.
Ice cream!
Ice cream. Mmm.
I enjoy being a boy.
Never dress for ice cream in haste.
Leonard Amadeus Helperman, where have you been?
Amadeus?
Didn't I ask you to stay right here in the yard?
Well, but me and Scott-- I was only--
yes, ma'am.
And now Spot is gone! I can't find him anywhere.
I am very disappointed with you.
After all, he is just a poor helpless dog.
He doesn't know any better.
There's no need to insult my intelligence.
Oh, but perhaps you know the dog best.
He lives in your home.
Wait. I think I hear my mother calling me.
Scott! Coming, mother!
Oh, my poor little Spotty.
We thought we'd lost you forever.
Leonard, our doggy is safe,
and we'll never, ever lose him again.
I should have thought
of this prodigal dog scam years ago.
This is sweet.
Mrs. Helperman,
when the Doggy Dyne Detecto collar
hits the vortex of lasers
that make up our invisible fence,
it activates a spray of pungent odors
that only animals can smell,
driving the victim, er, doggy,
away from the perimeter. To wit...
Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!
Foul! Yuck!
Ohh, month-old mushu pork.
Ugh. The horror, the horror.
Your dog will never leave this yard again.
Well, that's just dandy.
Are you okay, Spot?
Oh, fine. Just fine. Of course I'm not okay!
If I can't leave the yard,
then I can't go to school tomorrow.
That means I'll miss the history test
and fail social studies,
and then you can just toss Harvard,
my naval career,
and president pro tem of the senate
right out the window, baby!
Whoa, whoa, everything's going to be fine.
I've got an idea.
There. Spot is now totally safe.
Yeah, but just to be really safe,
shouldn't you tell me the code, too?
You know, so I could turn off the fence
in case you're going to be home late
or, like, the house blows up or something.
Well, yes, you should know the code,
but you have to promise
you won't ever, ever turn the system off
unless you ask me first.
Yes, ma'am. I promise.
Well, okey-dokey, then. Let's get ready to scoot.
Okay, I'll just be a little late to school,
but I won't miss the history test.
I can handle that.
Spot, I can't turn the fence off.
I just promised my mom.
Yes, but... You didn't promise her
you wouldn't tell me the security code
so I could turn it off.
Tell you the security--
you don't even have to tell me the code.
You can accidentally cough it out.
You could burp it out. You know...
1, 2, 3.
Need I go on? You get the picture.
I guess I could do that.
Leonard, honey, time to go.
Leonard, my freedom is on the line here.
You're going to help me, right?
I don't know, Spot. I did make a promise.
But maybe your freedom is more important than that.
But what if I get caught?
Is your freedom worth having my mom never trust me again?
I'm sorry. I-I-I just--
come on, Mr. Lollygagger.
Aah!
With liberty
and justice for all.
All except me, right, Leonard?
And we call this unpaired electron
a free radical.
Ha ha ha.
Electrons can be free but not a dog?
Don't I deserve the same rights
as a subatomic particle?
So, in 1860, America elected a great president
who was also a super-duper champion of freedom--
Abraham Lincoln.
Ha ha.
Whew.
Go home and free your dog, son.
Aah! I don't know what to do!
Can't you just leave me alone?
You're strange.
Leonard, honey,
are you all right?
Uh, you know,
all of a sudden, I'm not feeling so well.
I had such plans, too.
Did you know I was going to be the first dog elected pope?
Spot, you are going to be free.
Leonard, you broke a promise to your sainted mother.
I knew you had it in you.
Quick-- let's turn off that fence and get out of here.
Not so fast.
I promised my mom I wouldn't turn off the fence,
but I didn't promise her
I wouldn't get you out of your collar.
Nah.
I don't see what the big problem is.
Why don't you just collapse your bones
and slip out like me?
I know, Spot.
Why don't you grow a pair of wings
and fly over the fence?
You guys leave Spot alone. He's in a lot of pain.
That's it! I'll fly over the fence.
And he's losing his mind.
Ha ha. No. No, I'm not crazy, Leonard.
Not crazy at all. Ha ha ha ha ha.
Ah ha ha ha ha!
Okay, I can see where the cackling might make you wonder.
Boys, I've got a brilliant plan.
Oh, I get it.
You're warming us up for your brilliant plan
by making us start out with this stupid plan!
Just make sure you lower me on the other side of the fence.
And stop all that licking.
Muddle-headed escape attempts
make me nervous, so sue me.
Can we all stop fighting and do this?
Spot's freedom is at stake.
Yes, and, uh, more importantly,
this harness is starting to ride up.
Let's go!
Hey, what's going on up there?
Oh, no. Oh, yuck.
Hairball.
I told you to stop licking yourself.
Oh, dear, it's a big one.
That's disgusting.
Oh!
Pretty Boy, stop flapping.
Steady, guys. Steady!
Ah-choo!
Ahh!
-Ugh!
Here I go again.
I made it, fellas! Your sacrifice was not in vain.
I'm free. Free, I say. Free!
In future, escape first, celebrate later.
All right, uh... Spot,
come with me, nobody gets hurt.
You leave my dog alone.
Boy, I'm going to have to ask you to stand back!
What is going on here?
No need to worry, ma'am.
The subject made an escape attempt,
but Doggy Dyne is on the job.
We're going to take care of him
as soon as your son here gets out of the way.
Leonard, I sent you home sick, honey.
I know, but Spot's my dog.
I just had to come out and defend him.
Mr. Doggy Dyne, this isn't working out.
I want you to take your laser- cyber-detecto things out of here
and let my dog live in peace,
is that clear?
Yeah, but we--
well, I was only--
yes, ma'am.
Sweet freedom.
Oh, poor Spot.
I just wanted you to be safe.
Know what, mom? After today,
I don't think Spot will ever try running away again.
Do you feel well enough to have an ice pop?
I think I could handle that.
In fact, I think I'm feeling well enough to eat two ice pops.
Now that's a dog's best friend.
Ugh. Smells like rancid pork around here.
Ah ha ha ha ha!
Laugh it up, dog boy. Laugh it up.