Original subtitles

Maybe the world is blind, or just

a little unkind, don't know.

Seems you can't be sure of anything anymore,

although you may be lonely and then

one day you're smiling again.

Every time I turn around, I see the girl who turns

my world around standing there.

Every time I turn around, her spirits

lifted me right off the ground.

What's going to be?

Guess we'll just wait and see.

All right.

And the big story in the newspaper this morning

wash what?

Spud.

The laundry shrunk Linus' blanket.

No, it was about the president.

He did what?

She always talks in questions.

I'm not a mind reader.

Punky, the president did what?

The president, he said they could

colorize bedtime for Bonzo.

No.

He held a press conference.

Aren't you kids interested in what's happening in the world?

I am.

OK Iwo.

I've got People magazine at home.

The one with Mr. T on the cover.

Well, I've got something to get you more

interested in current events.

We'll start our own what?

Car?

No.

War?

No.

Newspaper?

Exactly.

I got it.

Hurrah!

We'll have our very own class newspaper.

Won't that be neat?

We'll call it the fifth grade what?

Hey, what a great name!

Good.

Now, who wants to be a reporter?

Please Mrs. Winston pick me.

Everybody says I look like Lois Lane.

Naturally I'll handle fashion.

No one knows style like moi.

OK Margaux, you do fashion.

Anybody else?

Yeah, moi.

I'll do the restaurant reports.

My grandma calls me an eating machine.

OK Cherie, you're the galloping gourmet.

Now, sports.

Me Mrs. Winston.

I'm a good sport.

I think sports is a good department for Spud.

Yeah, he's shaped like a football.

Then what am I going to do?

There's nothing left.

Sure there is.

You're so good with people, Punky.

Why don't you do a human interest column?

Punky can't do human interest.

She's subhuman.

What?

Why don't you make me the crime reporter?

We don't need a crime reporter.

We will after I get my hands on Spud.

Mrs. Winston!

I knew I should've gone into my brother

Bernie's locksmith business.

Brandon, don't do that.

Brandon, have you ever heard of man bites dog?

Hi Punky.

How did things go at school today?

-Terrible. -Why?

What's the matter?

Well, we're starting a newspaper,

and everybody gets to write that something good except for me.

I have to write about human interest.

Why, that's wonderful.

Writing about people is the most interesting reporting of all.

Come in Betty.

Hi Henry.

Hi Punky.

Hi Mrs. Johnson.

Here Henry.

A jar of olives, Paul Newman's Salad Dressing.

Where's the label?

I peeled it off.

I love those baby blue eyes.

Don't tell me you bought one of these trashy papers!

The Inquisitor is not a trashy paper.

How come it's pink?

It's blushing from what's inside-- all the news

that's fit to wrap garbage in.

Not true.

Everything they print is based on hard facts.

Really Like this story-- 105-year-old man just

had a baby?

Yeah, and the amazing thing is, he didn't even

know he was pregnant.

Well, OK.

Maybe that story is an exaggeration.

Now here's something I didn't know.

What?

Doctor's examination confirms the truth--

Diana Ross and Michael Jackson are actually the same person?

You see Betty?

You see how low this rag will stoop?

Please remove it from my house at once.

OK Henry, but think about it?

About what?

Have you to seen Diana and Michael together?

Yes I have.

It's done with mirrors.

Some people will believe anything.

Henry, the stuff in the Inquisitor is about people.

Maybe I'll do that kind of human interest.

Please don't.

Real human interest gives us a better understanding

of our fellow man.

But I don't know any interesting fellow men.

Sure you do.

If you concentrate real hard, I bet

you can think of a fascinating person

who is very close to you.

Nope.

Well, how about someone at school-- the janitor,

the crossing guard, the playground supervisor?

They're all the same guy-- Mr. Weaver.

Then write about Mr. Weaver-- Renaissance janitor.

It's a great story.

It'll write itself.

Good, then it won't need me

Brandon, don't you even think of touching that flash.

I'm calling my column-- it's so clever-- "Margaux a la Mode!"

You mean you're going to have ice cream on your head?

I thought Cherie was doing the food column.

It means Margaux on fashion.

Listen and learn.

Today's modern woman is switching

from Yves Saint Laurent of Paris to Jimmy Z of Malibu,

where Velcro is king.

Fascinating Margaux.

I'm writing a human interest column about Mr. Weaver.

The janitor?

Yeah, did you know that his desk

mops come from Warsaw, Poland?

Who cares?

Hi guys.

I'm just finishing up some research here.

Is that from Vinny Wong's Pizza Palace?

Yeah, this is the house special-- pizza

with pepperoni and wong ton.

Did you know Mr. Weaver says that there's 3,678 square feet

of hallways in this school?

And he uses 42 pounds of wax a year?

Snooze city, Punky.

I know.

I could hardly stay awake to write it.

Too bad I can't write about what I say

in the cafeteria this morning.

What did you see?

Jimmy Weeder and Carolyn Finch behind the dessert

cart-- kissing!

All right!

Now that's human interest.

Yeah.

Hey, why don't you write about it Punky?

Are you kidding?

That would be a gossip column.

Yeah.

Why don't you?

Because it would be trashy and cheap-- and great!

Yeah!

Punky, wait!

Your stuff is dynamite!

Punky's Grapevine-- it's the hottest column in the paper?

It is?

Thanks Spud.

I guess I have a nose for news.

Sometimes I hear gossip in the boys' locker room

that just might interest you. -Good idea.

I've had some trouble getting in there.

Punky, about your column--

Yes Mrs. Winston?

You must always make sure to check your what?

Spelling?

No, facts.

Hi guys!

Hey Punky, you're famous!

I know.

Would you put me in your column?

I don't know Cherie.

That would be kind of tough.

All you do is eat.

Good one.

There's my star reporter!

Punky, what can I say except it's

a pleasure to set your type.

Thanks Iwo.

By the way Margaux, Punky's Grapevine is growing so fast,

I'm cutting your fashion stuff down to one column inch.

One inch!

What can I write about in one inch?

Miniskirts?

Look!

There's Peggy!

What would a sixth grader be doing on the fifth grade

side of the hall?

Peggy and I are dear friends.

We've shared lip gloss.

Hello Peggy.

Hello Martha.

That's Margaux.

That's what I said.

Could you please autograph my copy of Punky's Grapevine?

Autograph?

I'm her best friend!

Peggy, care for some gloss?

No thank you Marla.

That's Martha-- Margaux.

Can I ask you a huge favor?

Sure Peggy, anything.

Well, would you mention in your column

that I'm having a party this Saturday night?

Only the most popular sixth graders will be there.

You got it.

By the way, you're invited.

I am!

Hey, please don't gush.

Sorry, I'll be happy to come.

Good.

And one more thing-- come alone.

Reliable room and apartment.

What boy, whose initials are JW, was seen kissing

what girl whose initials are CF behind the dessert

cart in the cafeteria?

Isn't this a bit gossipy?

Yeah, the kids loved it.

What happened to that fascinating interview

with Mr. Weaver?

The kids hated it.

This is what kids want to read.

Boy meets girl.

Boy kisses girl.

Boy gets fat lip.

This is nothing to be proud of.

Not only is gossip empty and meaningless,

but it can be damaging.

It can hurt people.

I'm not hurting anyone.

I'm just giving people what the people want.

But Punky, I don't approve of this.

I think the standards should be a little

higher in the fifth grade.

What's the name of this paper?

That's right.

The point is, a good journalist should

consent herself with more important subject matter.

You want important, listen to tomorrow's column.

What boy, whose name rhymes with 'mud," ran 99 yards

in the wrong direction, scoring a winning

touchdown for the other team?

Peggy "Ms. Popularity" Peterson is in a pickle.

She's having a big party this Saturday night.

The question is, which one of her two boyfriends

will be there?

Finally, the best Practical Joke of the Year Award

goes to Mrs. Winston's geography class.

Those crazy kids hid a live frog in her briefcase.

What will they think of next?

I realize I should let you express yourself Punky,

but this is blatant sensationalism.

Thanks Henry.

I thought it was pretty good myself.

Hi Spud.

Got any hot tips for the old Punker?

Yeah, get out of town while you still have kneecaps.

What?

Thanks to you, everyone is calling me "Wrong Way Mud."

What are you so upset about?

I made you famous.

Hey Mud, the classroom, that way.

I hope you're happy.

Hi Peggy.

Don't hi Peggy me you, you, you fifth grader!

What's the matter?

Nothing, you just ruined my life.

That's all.

But how?

You asked me to mention your party in the paper?

I didn't ask you to mention that I had two boyfriends.

-Had? -Had?

They both read your column and got into a big fight.

Oops.

I'm sure they'll make up.

Well they already did, right after they dumped me.

How about if I have a little chat with him at your party?

You are not coming to my party.

In fact, I'm spreading the word about you.

You'll never get invited to another party ever again.

Good morning class.

Good morning Mrs. Winston.

Class, before we begin our regular lesson,

I'd like to discuss what?

Punky's Grapevine?

Yes.

I'm referring to the frog incident.

Ordinarily, I could have seen the humor in finding a frog

in my briefcase, but last night I was so startled,

that I tossed the briefcase, and the frog,

right through my picture window.

My insurance policy does not have a frog clause.

At first I suspected in my biology class--

But now, thanks to Punky's Grapevine,

I know exactly where to place the blame.

Therefore, for the next two weeks,

this class will remain after school

studying the evolutionary development of the what?

Frog?

No, the prison system.

And thanks to Punky for bringing this to my attention.

Thanks Brandon.

Punky, it's awfully late.

It's time for you to go to bed. -I can't Henry.

I have a deadline.

I admire your dedication.

I wish I could say the same about your subject matter.

But Henry--

Punky, I realize your column is very popular with the kids,

but I would be remiss as a parent

if I didn't stop you from going on writing this dribble.

It's not dribble.

I had hoped that when you were given

this assignment, that you'd have made

something worthwhile out of it.

I don't even have to read this to know it's

full of empty worthless gossip.

The subject matter is beneath you.

Will you at least check my spelling?

Yes I will.

Now, hit the sack.

Dear readers, if you want to know who's kissing who, who's

having a party, who's holding hands,

you're reading the wrong column because this reporter

has given up gossip, and I'm sorry if I've hurt anyone

or caused any problems.

From now on, I'm only going to write

stories that give us a better understanding

of our fellow men.

The most interesting fellow man I know is Henry P. Warnimont.

My dad Henry is the greatest guy I've ever met.

He's smart, kind, and very good looking.

One of the things that makes him so interesting

is that he remembers things that happened

before most people were born.

He hates it when I make mistakes,

but he's careful never to tell me until he

just can't stand it anymore.

Sometimes I forget to tell him how much I love him,

but he's so smart, I think he already knows.

Punky, this is very touching.

You like it?

I love it.

Are you printing this?

Yeah, it comes out in tomorrow's newspaper.

Thanks for being so patient and understanding.

Well, I try.

Sometimes I succeed.

Goodnight Henry.

Goodnight sweetheart.

What a wonderful moment.

There's more.

But the best thing about my dad Henry

is that he's so forgiving.

And I know he won't get mad when he

finds out that I took his brand new camera apart

to see how it works!

Now all he has to do is put it back

together so it will work again! Punky!

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