Community (2009–2015): Season 2, Episode 8 - Cooperative Calligraphy - full transcript

Does anyone know how long
it takes papier-mache to dry?

Three hours longer

than it took Duncan to
think up this assignment.

I think 's really gonna appreciate

the extra work we did expanding
our evolutionary chart.

Oh, Britta, can you hold up
the final stage of humanity?

I still think that man is
going to evolve into woman,

not dragon monster with three legs.

Three legs?

Well, it's been real...

At least the paste smell has...



But I have a date to catch.

Or should I say a catch to date.

Oof, hope you just
come up with that.

Look out! Drive-by deaning!

Kidding.

Just a non-violent verbal reminder.

The local shelter is having a
puppy parade this afternoon.

Ohh!

Oh! I want to lick it.

I expect all of you to lend a paw.

Except you, Jeffrey.

I know you've gotta catch to date.

Oh, like you're famous for your wit.

Puppy parade?



I am in.

Want to see if those wiener
dogs are born that way,

or if they start off normal
and then get wiener.

Abed, did you pick up my pen?

It's a purple pen with a gel grip.

Nope. I'm strictly
mechanical pencils these days.

More relatable?

It was just here.

You okay, Annie? Chocolate?

Would you like me to push
you to the parade, Pierce?

Oh, no, thanks.

I don't want people think
of me as a handicap.

If anything, this chair
makes me more than a human.

You move it by blowing into this,
uh, tube here.

It's the most expensive one.

I outbid three hospitals for this baby,

and it was worth every penny.

Oh.

Oh!

Wait! Please just wait.

I'm sorry, but I need
to know who took my pen.

Uh...

Sorry, I don't see it.

Yeah, sorry, Annie.

No!

Not "sorry, Annie".

We passed "sorry, Annie" eight pens ago!

I keep bringing pens,
and you guys keep taking them,

and I'm afraid I am
putting my foot down.

Okay. Well, now, Annie has made it clear

that this is an issue,

so from now on, we need to be
more respectful of her things.

- Okay.
- Cool.

Community 2x08 - Cooperative Calligraphy

All right, it's not on the floor,

- so whoever accidentally took...
- Not accidentally!

Accidents don't just happen over
and over and over again, okay?

This isn't budget daycare.

Okay, whoever insidiously

and with great malice aforethought

abducted Annie's pen,

confess, repent,
and relinquish so we can leave.

Maybe nobody took it.

Sometimes I think I lost something

really important to me,

and it turns out I already ate it.

I didn't eat my pen, Troy.

I know I brought it, and now it's gone.

I took a photo.

Aha!

Aha. I'm zooming.

See? See?

I took this ten minutes ago.

My pen was on the table.

No one has come in or out since.

One of you has my pen right now.

Annie.

It's a pen.

It's not a pen!

It's a principle.

Not a good time to get
a stick of gum. Okay.

Are we going to the puppy parade or not?

Because this is starting to
feel like a bottle episode.

Again with the TV crap.

Hey, meatball, did you take Annie's pen

to make life more like Benny Hill
or whatever you do?

Abed?

I wouldn't do that. I
hate bottle episodes.

They're wall-to-wall facial expression
and emotional nuance.

I might as well sit in the corner
with a bucket on head.

Well, I have a photography
project to finish,

and my grandmother's hands

aren't going to take
close-ups of themselves.

Hasta la later.

Hmm!

Was that "hmm" directed at me?

If the "hmm" fits.

I don't have your pen, Annie.

I'm always lending you supplies.

You never come prepared.

If it's so important to you,
here, have my pen.

That's my pen.

Well, whatever, people.

They're just things.

Since they're just things,

I don't suppose you'd mind letting us

take a quick look-see inside your bag?

Oh, I'd very much mind, Annie.

As a "quick" invasion
of civil liberties.

Oh, man.

Oh, it all starts with a quick
look-see into someone's bag

and then it's a brisk peeka-roony

at our phone records,

and before you can say "1984",
the thought police

are forcy-worcing you
to bend and spread.

Bend and spread?

Are the thought police
gonna make love to us?

Do they find thoughts in our butts?

I knew I should have read that book.

Britta, stop using the constitution

as a baby blanket.

Last week, she invoked the
Freedom of Information Act

to request photocopies of my notes.

That's pretty good.

Well, excuse me for living free.

Come on, Stoney, we all know
the pen's in your bag!

- Yeah! Come on!
- Come on, dump it.

Happy?

Not if that's a used q-tip.

- Eww.
- Oh!

Welcome to the gross
business of martial law.

Welcome to what used
to be individuality,

seized and disintegrated
by cowardly groupthink.

Welcome, my friends!
Welcome to the machine!

Well, Annie, it looks like
you were wrong.

Britta does come prepared for one thing.

Or six.

- Big weekend?
- Can't complain.

Razzle pzazzle.

Attention, students!

The puppy parade is
starting on the quad!

Better come quick.

With every passing moment,
these puppies grow older

and less deserving of our attention.

Whoa whoa whoa!

Where do you people think you're going?

Uh, have you ever gone

to a puppy parade
halfway through, Britta?

It is pointless.

Then you clearly stole the pen.

The Patriot Act cuts both ways.

Actually, it's pretty one-sided.

That's kind of the point.

Here's my point.

Whoever's the pen thief
is just stood there

and watched me get Guantanamoed.

And I'd like to know who it is,

so I can let them know that
they have lost my trust forever.

It's a bottle episode.

Britta, we're sorry we embarrassed you

and looked at your
prophylactic equipment.

Your lifestyle mistakes
are none of our business.

Oh, thanks, Shirley.

But now let's rustle through
your tampons and wallet

so we can apologize to you.

Oh, I'm sure everybody here
knows that I don't steal.

Have you checked your bag, Shirley?

If you took it by
mistake, I forgive you.

Oh, so if I took it, it's larceny,

but if you find it under
mother hen, it's a mistake.

Mother hen? I think we're
about the same age.

Sure, unless time is linear.

I'll make your ass linear.

That doesn't make any sense.

I'll make ya ass sense.

Girls, don't get your panties puckered.

We all know what we're really thinking.

If... and I mean if...
the culprit is among us,

statistically speaking, it's Troy.

Yes, we were all just
thinking that in 1856.

1856.

What if a ghost took the pen?

- Please forgive him.
- For what?

For stealing the pen, dummy.

Why would I take her pen?

I don't even like having my own.

It's probably under
one of Pierce's casts.

He uses everything to itch his legs.

We're on our third DVD remote.

If I took the pen, I'd say so.

You probably forgot.

You've been popping
painkillers like tic-tacs.

Oh, yeah, right.

"Side effects: Verbal dysphasia"

"and octopus loss."

I don't see anything on this
squirrel about memory, Troy.

Now I want to know who has it.

Yeah, nice try Shirley,

that doesn't take you off the list.

Jeff, you're in charge.

I demand you deal with this

There's nothing to deal with.

I'll say.

Ok, alright, alright.

Everyone breathe.

- You know what this is?
- Yep.

Shut up. This is a normal day

with a bunch of friends
who are done studying

and a pen that maybe rolled away.

- "Rolled away"?
- Or fell down someone's shoe.

- Let's check shoes.
- Annie!

Fine, fine.

Someone in this room is hiding your pen.

Want to know why?

They feel terrible.

They made a mistake.

They waited too long come forward,

and now they feel bad.

- They should.
- Mm-hmm!

Okay. Okay, so, pen thief,

we understand what happened,

and we forgive you.

- If you confess and apologize!
- Yes.

Right. But here's the trick.

Because this person now has no reason

not to come forward,

if, by some chance,
I get to the count of three,

and nobody comes forward, guess what.

We have to accept that no
one has the pen, don't we?

Don't we?

Good so here we go.

One.

Two.

Pierce, you have something to tell us?

Yes. Is it me,

or has it become really obvious
that Jeff took the pen.

- Yes!
- Definitely.

You want to make a bet, you jerks?

Lockdown! Abed, seal the doors.

Nobody leaves until this pen shows up.

I don't like this.

Yeah? Tell it to the pen
you might have.

Gwynnifer? Hi. Yeah, it's me.

I can't make it.

Well, tell your disappointment
to suck it.

I'm doing a bottle episode!

Okay.

You just became my hero.

Thank you.

No pen.

I can see that.

Why do you keep taking
that tone with me?

Oh, I'll field that

because if nobody else has this pen,

it means at so point,
you realized you had it

and were too embarrassed to say,
and we get to kill you.

I'm not hiding my own pen,
you paranoid weirdo.

Everybody stay within each
other's eyelines, please.

One of you's a monster.

- Me next, right?
- Hold on.

Can we please consider

the threshold that we are crossing?

We don't trust Abed?

He shredded my backpack.

He freed my pet monkey.

Because we corrupted him.

He's our innocent.

He put gum in your hair.

Empty the bag, Abed.

Uh, Pierce,

- you don't have a bag?
- Giraffe.

Uh, Jeff, you don't have a bag?

Oh, I could never deprive the world

of the portion of my chest
the strap would cover.

Makes sense. So what's left?

Shirley, a little hugging and crying,
and then we're done?

Wait, Abed, why is my name in here?

That's mine.

And Shirley's and Annie's?

What is it?

Charts.

Some kind of calendar?

That's my personal private business.

Annie, 4 on, 28 off,
next, November 10th.

Britta, 5 on, 27 off...

Oh my God. Are you charting
our menstrual cycles?

What?!

Gross!

Abed, this is so personal!

And so accurate.

Abed, this is really creepy.

I don't understand
why you would do this.

I can explain.

Oh. I thought you'd keep
yelling over me.

Okay, I can explain.

You know I have trouble reading people,

and say the wrong things, sometimes,

and I noticed it was happening
more often with you three

than it was with the others.

And then I noticed fluctuating patterns,

and I started graphing them,

and by the time I realized
what I was actually measuring,

it had started to yield really
positive results for everybody,

so I kept doing it.

Were you ever gonna tell us about this?

I... I feel so violated.

More chocolate?

Oh! Get away from me!

Abed just became my hero.

- Can I have a little...
- No!

Sheesh.

Guess it's true what they say
about the sync-up.

Okay, if I could just take this time

to share a few words of sarcasm

with whoever it is that took this pen.

I want to say thank you
for doing this to me

for a while I thought
I'd have to suffer

through a puppy parade,

but I much prefer being entombed alive

in a mausoleum of feelings

I can neither understand
nor reciprocate.

So whoever you are,
can I get you anything?

Ice cream? Best friend medal?

Anything? Mm-mmm?

Okay, sarcasm over.

You're last up, Shirley.

Dump your comedically
huge bag and end this.

Uh, no, thank you.

Well, well, well, Harvey Keitel.

Well, what do you know,
Henry David Thoreau.

My oh my, Mike Tyson

just empty the bag.

No! I don't have Annie's pen.

I'm simply a Christian woman
that doesn't open her bag.

What did the Christian woman
think would happen

when we got to her bag?

The Christian woman thought
you'd find it on the Muslim.

Real nice!

Nicer than you, condom carrier!

- Dump the bag or you're guilty!
- No!

Oh, Lord, he's thrown a clot!

Pierce! Call 911!

No! No! No!

Pierce, you didn't need to do that.

Yes, I did.

All you guys do is talk,

leaving me to do the
things you won't do.

People like you are the reason

we took so long to get into Vietnam.

Is this what you were
trying to hide, Shirley?

A pregnancy test?

And more importantly,

are they seriously marketing
pregnancy tests to black women

guys! This is a terribly childish way

to handle this kind of situation.

Does this mean you have a new boyfriend?

Who, who, who?

Not that it's, uh, anyone's business...

I recently reconnected with
my husband over Labor Day,

and it seems the Lord
may have a plan for us

that doesn't include that
stripper slut he ran away with.

You're not pregnant, Shirley.
It's impossible.

Why does everybody think I'm old?

I'm around Jeff's age!
I have a uterus!

No, no. According to my charts,

you couldn't have
conceived Labor Day weekend

you would have been
ovulating on Halloween.

Which is just as well,
because if you're gonna have

a pregnant woman in one of these,

I say go elevator labor or go home.

Halloween?

Well, that's that, then.

Yeah, what a relief.

Looks like someone narrowly avoided

a "lifestyle mistake" of their own.

Oh! Or is it only bad if
you sleep with unmarried men?

The Bible doesn't
recognize divorce, Britta!

When you marry a man, he's your man!

Yeah, and after he marries someone else,

if you jump into the sack
with him, you're an angel,

so long as you don't use protection?

I'm so glad you're enjoying this.

And I hope whoever stole
that pen enjoys it in hell!

- Nice try, Stephen Fry.
- "Stephen Fry."

We all have an agreement.

Nobody leaves till we find it.

- Oh
- Get off. Here we go.

We are gonna find this pen!

We are gonna find that pen!

- Oh!
- And if we can't find it,

our children will find it!

Is it over here in these books?

This pen? This incredible, magical pen

that nobody knows how
it could disappear?

Oh, maybe it's right in here!

Guys, this is school property!

Can we just forget it?

It's a pen!

It's a pen now?

Really?

It's not a principle anymore

now it's a pen?

Why the change of heart?

You're not seriously accusing me.

We searched my bag!

Which is exactly the
last place you'd put it

if you found it halfway
through all this.

In fact, assuming that one
of us does have the pen,

who among us has the most incentive

to make sure it never
sees the light of day?

- You want to go there?
- Yeah.

- I'll go there.
- Okay.

- I was born there.
- Really?

There's a placard the commemorating me!

What's going on, and how can I help?

Anie, relax.

No, you relax, Jeff.

Or are you scared that if
you do, my pen will fall out?

You precocious little bitch!

Okay, guys, guys! Hey!

Guys, stop!

You're being complely illogical!

We need to flip up the table,
divide the group by gender,

and then search each
other in our underwear.

What?

Now what?

Everybody shake. Enough to dislodge.

Okay, anything hit the floor?

No.

What are those underwear made out of?

They look luxurious.

Oh. They're an organic
soy-cotton blend.

This Gwynnifer must be real special.

Don't you usually wear

the stripey turquoise
beetlejuice numbers?

What does she mean "usually"?

All right, end of the road.

We've torn apart the room,

we've stripped.

There is absolutely no place left...

No.

No!

No.

Noooooo! No!

Damn it. Broke my scissors.

Here. Be careful.

This is the last pair we have.

Also, don't cut his legs.

I'm worried we've gone too far.

This is how super villains are created.

Can't you just make an inspiring
Winger speech about trust,

throw in a few digs at
an easy celebrity target,

and put a ribbon on this thing?

Abed, think about this for one second

if a single one of us leaves this room

before we find that pen,

how can any of us trust anyone
in this group ever again?

What's your hurry?

I'm clothing myself.

I'm not comfortable standing
around in my all-together

like you two anorex jeze...

Oh! I'm so sorry.

That was really mean.

I don't know where that came from.

We've all been through a lot today.

And I'm sure this pregnancy scare

been weighing on you all week, right?

And maybe that's why you took my pen?

What?!

Where are you hiding it, judgy beans?

All right, here we go.

It smells like a Waffle House sink!

Pierce, are you using Slim Jims
to scratch your legs?

Have we not gotten to a
place free of judgment yet?

This isn't it, this isn't it.

Where is it? Where's the pen?

Where's the pen?!

Where's the pen?

Great.

It's getting a little chilly outside,

so the animal wranglers
have asked that every student

pick up a puppy and hold it,

so they stay warm while the volunteers

hand out tiny, puppy-sized hats.

Honestly, I don't know why I'm even
making these announcements.

There can't be anyone who
isn't already on the quad!

Annie, I'd just like to say,

on behalf of whoever
actually stole this pen,

I real am sorry about all this.

I knew it was you.

I knew it was you.

All I know is it could be any of you.

And for all we know, it's you.

I wish it were. I really do.

I wish I could just
find it behind my ear.

I'd rather be that stupid
than think that anyone of us

might be this inconsiderate.

After all we've been through,
it almost seems impossible.

It seems less than impossible.

Something impossible

actual seems more likely.

Here we go.

Winger speech to take us home.

What if a ghost took the pen?

- Let him finish
- I am finished.

For real, honestly, seriously, why not?

Why not just "a ghost took the pen"?

Okay, I've been saying that for hours.

And we should've listening
to Troy from the beginning.

Guys, look in your hearts

and answer this question honestly:

What's more likely?

That someone in this group
doesn't belong in this group?

Or ghosts?

If we have to choose between
turning on each other

or pinning it on some specter

with unfinished, pen-related business,

I'm sorry, but my money's on ghost.

Well, I'm not a religious person,

but I've seen specials
on the paranormal.

Anything's possible.

Relative to the alternative,

it actually seems more logical to me.

Why would a ghost want a pen?

Troy?

Okay.

So I see it as a lot like
the movie paranormal activity,

except for more boring and fancy.

And I think in 1856,

it is possible that a man was beheaded

while he was writing in his diary

to his long lost love,

and now he roams the halls of Greendale

screaming for his pen so he
can write her a love letter.

"I need her! I need her!" he screams,

as he looked for a pen.

What the hell did you
people do in there?

Something you and your puppies
could only dream of

you non-miraculous son of a bitch.

Non-miraculous?

Wait! Abed!

Now, who could resist falling
in love with our next float?

This autumn colors puppy
reminds us that

while the leaves
might be changing,

responsible pet ownership
is always in season.

Oh, here's a crowd favorite,
the Top and Tails float.

A champagne bath
and a red sports car?

Let's hope he's single.

Ok... Oh, okay. Well...

This one feels
a little preachy. Oh.

Boo! Boo!