♪ 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!
[motorcycle revving]
♪ There was an author Who wrote some books ♪
♪ And Dickens Was his name, oh ♪
♪ I-C-K-E-N-S ♪
♪ And Dickens Was his name, oh ♪
Great. We've reduced one of the greatest writers
in the history of the English language
to a clap-along song.
Could you keep it down?
Some of us are trying to digest "David Copperfield" here.
The magician?
The novel!
[bus hits bumps]
By Charles Dickens, the great writer,
about whom we learned today at the Charles Dickens Museum!
Oh, incredible. Not a one of you picked up anything
from our field trip today.
I picked up some tasty gruel-flavored
Oliver twist-y bread at the food court.
[all] Ew!
[retches]
Literature haters.
There. Happy now?
[gasps]
Scott? Scott, what are you doing?
[horns honking]
[howling]
Hey, you with the nose,
sit your can down and buckle up.
You want to bang your noggin
and end up driving the bus the rest of your life?
Scott? Scott, dear!
Scott!
What's gotten into you, for gosh sake?
Oh, yes, I know. I'm sorry.
Out of my way!
Scott, chill!
[sighs] I needed that.
Well, I'll tell you something else
it seems you need, Mr. Leadready --
a little discipline.
[children] Ooh, you're bad!
Ooh, you're in trouble!
Scott, a write-up goes on your permanent record.
It marks you for the rest of your life.
It gets seen by everyone -- fifth grade, sixth grade,
middle school, high school,
and every college in the world!
[screaming]
Scott!
Scott, take it easy.
You heard them.
My life is over, all because of one
lousy, stupid, glorious, open window.
Not even.
Something as dinky as sticking your head out once
wouldn't go on your permanent record.
-It wouldn't? -No.
Then what is your mom
giving Principal Strickler, smarty?
Aah!
[screaming]
So you made a mistake. Just forget it and move on.
Oh, but the powers that be won't let me move on.
They've forever branded me a bad one.
Why should I go back to school?
Like a broken pencil, it's pointless.
[sobs] See?
Even my quips have gone bad.
This isn't the Spot I know.
The Spot I know would fight.
Fight?
Yeah. Go back to school and fight
to show them how good you really are.
Okay. If they want to fight, a fight I will give them.
Did you hear? He's going to fight.
I'll teach those bums to brand me a bad kid.
I'll go back to that school,
and I'll be their worst nightmare.
Yeah. Yeah, that's what I'll do, see?
If it's bad boy they want, then bad boy they'll get.
[laughs evilly]
[snickers]
What's so funny?
I'm fighting, Len.
I'm really giving it to the man.
Look, I used block letters instead of cursive,
and I inserted a comma
before the last "and" in a series,
which, while technically correct,
is not widely accepted.
Oh, yeah, I'm bad.
♪ Call me a rebel, I'll think of a cause ♪
♪ I spit on the rules, I laugh at the laws ♪
♪ Ha, no matter Who does it ♪
♪ I'll take the blame ♪
♪ 'Cause trouble is my middle And my first and last name ♪
♪ You know I'm bad ♪
♪ I'm bad with a capital "b" ♪
♪ Now, that's me ♪
♪ I'm your number one nightmare ♪
♪ No one does bad Quite as good as me ♪
♪ Yeah ♪
♪ I'm the nastiest, razzdiest, Rudest, brutinest dude ♪
♪ You've ever seen ♪
♪ whoo, I put the "me" in "mean" ♪
♪ No one does bad ♪
♪ I'm just bad, b-a-d, bad ♪
♪ Say it with me now ♪
Bad.
♪ No one does bad Quite as good as me ♪
Bad!
[chuckles nervously]
[boy] That's the bad kid.
[boy #2] Look out for him, man.
He's bad.
[grunts]
Oh, great, the warden is here.
Would you boys and girls like to know
the easiest way to break a principal's heart?
Mess up, get detention, and squander your potential,
you little delinquents!
Other schools don't have this problem.
The West East Westland District
hasn't had a single student in detention this term.
Stay out of detention, children. Live up to your potential.
Make that West East Westland eat dirt.
[sobs]
Thank you.
Are we going to take that
from that fascist grown-up tyrant?
He seemed sort of nice to me.
Oh, sister.
Don't fall for his bag of words --
not living up to our potential.
Yeah, I had a potential once.
I was going to be the first poet laureate brain surgeon
to set foot on Mars,
but I stuck my head out one window,
and bam, potential gone.
If he made it disappear any quicker,
he'd be David Copperfield --
not the Dickens character, the Vegas magician --
puts on a heck of a show.
Hey, what's this?
He was so busy grinding our futures to dust
under his cruel shoes,
he didn't even realize he dropped his keys.
Well, his carelessness will be his Waterloo.
He's about to taste revenge, Leadready style.
[children] Ooh, you got deten--
Save it. Squares.
Hey, Scott. Hey --
come on, gang.
We got a job to do.
Come on, Scott. Where are you?
Now, where did I put those keys?
Come on, gang. We got a job to do.
Oh, no!
You know, this is fun,
but based on my observations,
I don't think they make sticky string
quite as sticky as they used to.
What? The permanent records.
Well, well, well, would you look at this?
Scott Leadready II
is a smart and well-behaved boy
with no major shortcomings.
He needs to learn proper field trip behavior,
but in every other aspect, he is a very good boy.
[gasps] There's nothing bad in my file.
Nothing.
Oh, I am fortune's fool!
I believed the malicious gossip of misguided school chums
and thought the authorities were all against me,
but my destiny shouldn't be shaped by how others see me,
but by how I perceive myself.
Must be from "David Copperfield."
No, it's from my heart. I made a big mistake.
Scott, stop! You're making a big mistake!
I know, I know.
Wow, I'm good.
I'm not a bad 'un, Leonard. I'm a good 'un.
I've always been a good 'un,
and I always will be a good 'un,
because I have control over my destiny,
and unlike David Copperfield...
The guy in the book or the magician?
I don't know. I have to hear the rest of the sentence.
I know full well now and forever
that I am going to be the hero of my own life.
Book. Yeah, good, Scott,
but first we better get rid of all the sticky string.
Yes, because that's what heroes of their own lives do.
They get rid of the sticky string.
They help students who aren't yet heroes of their own lives
cut through the stupid sticky string
of gossip and labels.
Okay, but we better get rid of all this sticky string first.
Strickler's coming!
Aah!
My keys -- you had them.
Whoops.
And you brought them back to me,
you good, good boy.
[pants]
Yes, yes,
and straightened up your office a tad, too.
Oh, I knew I could reform you.
Now get out of here
before I cite you for loitering.
[all] Yes, sir.
There's no such thing as a bad student,
just ones I haven't reformed yet.
Uhh!
[cat meows]
[dog growlin ]
[barking]
And so I hope that all of you will consider deep sea diving
as a c-clear --
oh, dear, I seem to be standing
on your air supply. My bad.
Ha ha ha.
[wheezing] Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.
Okay, class, now let's continue
with our next super-exciting career day presentation.
Ha ha. Teddy, um, would you be kind enough
to stand before the class
and in your best and biggest announcer voice,
please introduce us to your dad?
Ahem.
Here's my dad.
Howdy do, future of America.
Say, Teddy's dad looks awfully familiar.
All righty, now, Mr. Naven's planned
a special little guessing game with his job.
Well, thank you. Thank you. What a warm welcome.
Now, few people realize
that my job was first started in this country
by Benjamin Franklin.
Ooh, ooh, you sell those kites
that get struck by lightning!
I want one of those babies!
Ha ha. Good guess, strange little boy, but no.
Clue number two -- I help bring people all over the world
closer together by delivering
thousands of important documents and packages.
I got it! Are you Santa claus?
Oh, they're sniffing it out.
But I'm afraid Santa only delivers things once a year.
I'm responsible for delivering things six days a week.
Mr. Naven's job sounds cool.
Well, sure, lots of responsibility,
serving the public,
established by one of the founding fathers --
it's obvious. He's a mailman.
A mailman?
Oh, you got me. I'm a mailman.
[growls]
What few people realize is that --
what few people realize is that all letter carriers
are evil, scheming thieves.
[children] Huh?
Oh, now, just a darn second there,
beanie-wearing youngster.
Scott Leadready II, you apologize this instant.
You know we don't allow that type of nonsense.
Nonsense or common sense? Huh? Huh?
How long are you going to hide your heads in the sand?
That man may pretend to deliver your mail,
but that's all a ruse.
He's just trying to figure out how to break into your homes.
[gasps] Now, I know this will hurt me
more than it hurts you,
but you have given me no choice.
Today there will be no first recess for you.
You'll have to eat your snack at your desk.
[students gasp]
"Calling our guest speaker evil is not very nice.
Calling our guest speaker evil is not very nice."
Imagine the humiliation having to apologize to him.
He should have to apologize to us.
But, Scott, letter carriers
are good, decent, hard-working folks.
Without them, where would people be?
People, right.
Wake up and smell the kibble, Leonard.
Letter carriers have been torturing dogs
since the beginning of time.
It all started with cavemen,
who wrote their letters on bones.
And when the ancient Greeks carved their letters
on stone tablets,
it didn't get any better for dogs.
[barking]
Even today those conniving postal demons
will lure dogs outside in all kinds of weather,
be it rain or hail or wind or snow.
Throughout all of history,
one thing has remained the same.
All letter carriers
are out to make all dogs' lives miserable.
Hey, forgot my partner.
There you are. Ha ha.
Sorry about you losing your recess, big guy,
but no hard feelings, right?
[growling]
[barking]
Well, little déjà vu here.
But, you know, really, don't worry about it.
These things happen.
That young man's yapping was no worse
than, say, your dog's there.
Scott certainly was acting exactly like little Spot here.
Exactly.
Say, wouldn't it be fascinating
if somehow a dog could transform himself into a little b--
well, ha ha ha. I am not going to give away my best ideas
for science fiction short stories. Ha ha ha.
[laughing]
Oh, and you can rest assured
that I'll have a long stern talk
with that Scott Leadready tomorrow.
I won't allow prejudicial behavior in my class ever.
Did you hear what my mom just said?
Your prejudice against mailmen
is going to get you in real trouble.
Prejudiced? All mailmen are evil.
Would you stop saying that? It's just not true.
What do I have to do, rub your nose in it?
Maybe it's not
in your bright and shiny Christmas tree world,
but now you're down at knee level.
Now you're going to see it the way I see it --
the way a dog sees it. Now come on.
The world looks different
when your chin's only 18 inches off the cement,
and it's hot inside that fur suit --
real hot, so hot you feel like a pack of crayons
melting on a hot metal slide on the playground.
The smells rise off the sidewalk
and smack you in the nose -- dames, gum wrappers,
empty bottles that have a better place to go.
A shadow stretches across the street,
and you feel a chill run down your spine
right to the tip of your tail.
It's him -- the thief of letters, stealer of souls.
No, Spot, you're seeing it all the wrong way.
Sometimes people actually mail their letters
by placing them in their mailboxes
for the letter carrier to take.
That way, people who have a hard time
getting to the post office can mail their letters.
If the postman is really our friend,
bright boy, how come he's doing that?
What could be more despicable,
more contemptible, more dishonorable,
and all those other "ables"
than shaking down a defenseless old skirt?
That's not what he's doing.
He's delivering a package to her C.O.D.
That means "collect on delivery."
Is that what it means, or is it "collect on death"?
Yeah. I'm pretty sure it's "delivery."
Okay, maybe I got a little carried away.
Maybe I sounded a little crazy,
but what about that?
♪ Da-da ♪
He's breaking into that house.
He's not breaking in if he lives there, Spot. See?
That proved nothing.
[grunts]
See? It comes right off.
Spot, don't do that. That's wrong.
Hey there, kiddo. Don't mess with that mailbox.
Few people realize
that messing with people's mailboxes
is an offense of federal code, title 18,
section 1705.
[thinking] Now he's threatening my best friend.
That's the last straw.
[snarling and barking]
Help!
Spot, no! Come back here.
[barking]
What's up, Spot?
Mailman.
Say no more.
Hey, everybody, mailman.
[barking]
Spot, no!
Leave Mr. Naven alone. He's just doing his job.
You should know that when I grow up,
I want to make a difference in this world.
That's why I want to become a letter carrier,
just like Mr. Naven.
So if you're going to go after Mr. Naven,
then you might as well start with me.
All right, then. Let's bite the kid, too!
Bite the kid.
What is Leonard doing?
I mean, every dog knows all mailmen are bad,
and therefore I hate all mailmen.
But if I hate all mailmen, and Leonard becomes a mailman,
well, then, there's only one thing I can do.
I have to hate Leonard.
That can't be right. Leonard is my friend.
Leonard is good.
Leonard is about to get mauled by those dogs!
Stop! That's my master, who I love!
Hey, he's a mailman lover.
Get him, the mailman, and the future mailman.
[growling]
Run for it!
[screaming]
Spot, this can't go on!
Don't worry, Leonard. I've got a sure-fire idea,
just as soon as these dogs run out of breath.
Friends, canines, letter carriers,
I'm sure some of you are wondering
why I've called you all here today.
Well, it's a little-known fact
that prejudice can get the best of us.
So to help others learn the lesson I have learned,
I've organized this dog and mailman day of friendship.
Letter carriers, you may open your mailbags now!
[all] Special delivery.
[panting]
Treats? Well, well, well,
maybe we've been wrong about these mailmen, huh?
Don't grab, now, dogs. There's plenty to go around.
Nice work, buddy.
Yes, indeed, Scott.
I am so proud of you for organizing all this
that I decided to help you out a smidge
by ordering pizza for everybody.
Okay, who ordered the pepperoni?
[barking]
[screaming]
Not my leg! Ooh! Aah!
Aah!
[barking]
Sorry, Leonard.
Guess you got to take these things
one delivery service at a time.