Community (2009–2015): Season 2, Episode 9 - Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design - full transcript
Dean Pelton tries to bust Jeff for a phony night school credit, which only unveils a series of conspiracies, plots, and double-crosses between Jeff, Annie, and the dean.
Agnes, cancel my appointments.
What appointments?
Wishful thinking.
It's called alternative energy,
the key to a brighter tomorrow.
Notice all the animals
wearing sunglasses.
Because it's a brighter tomorrow.
Yeah.
My boys are in elementary school.
They don't make nearly
as many dioramas as we do.
The whole environmental club
is making them for green week.
And this afternoon in the cafeteria,
we're having a bio-diorama-rama.
I heard one kid made a diorama
about a world without dioramas.
It's still cool if I sleep
at your place tonight, right?
Totally. Hey, since we're
both done with classes,
- we can start the sleepover now.
- Let's get in our pajamas
- and build a blanket fort.
- Let's do it.
A blanket fort. Wow!
You can come hang out in it
with us later if you want.
Uh, thanks, but I think
I'll find something
- more grown-up to do.
- Hmm. Okay.
Enjoy eating fiber and
watching The Mentalist.
Britta, that wasn't nice.
I'm sorry, Shirley,
but who wants to hang out
in a blanket fort with
grown men in tiny underoos?
Hello! So... Jeffrey,
I was just looking over
your class schedule.
- Why?
- Uh...
Maybe it was a random spot-check.
Maybe it was a specific spot-check.
Maybe I'm making a scrapbook.
The point is
you will not be receiving credit
for your independent study:
Conspiracy theories in US history.
What? Why not?
Because the class doesn't exist.
And neither does the teacher...
Professor Professorson?
What? That's his name!
- Oh...
- It's Dutch.
- I think it means professor.
- I think it means poppycock.
The ultimate Jeff Winger
blow-off class...
The one that doesn't exist.
Now I have to audit an
entire system for shenanigans,
which means... bye-bye weekends.
Bye-bye writing at Starbucks
till a certain persian barista
asks me about my novel.
God, Jeff!
It's one thing to blow off
regular classes,
but this devalues all the credits
I work very hard for.
- Mm-hmm.
- Can I defend myself
and say this is nuts?
I've been meeting with this professor
in his office every Wednesday
all semester.
Professor Professorson.
- Yes!
- Really?
You're gonna commit to this?
Commit to what... Reality?
Okay, then, please... lead me
- to Professor Professorson.
- Gladly.
- This I gotta see.
- I have always dreamt
of playing charades
with you, Jeffrey...
Just not like this, not on dry land.
Community 2x09 - Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design
Oh, man!
You thinking what I'm thinking?
We're too big for this, aren't we?
Yeah.
But if we went two pillows
higher in the corner,
we could vault the ceiling...
Bump up the square footage.
Make this a blanket fort for men.
Babu-gabku boo-gee....
babu-jabbu-babu-bee.
Well, here we are.
Professor Professorson's office.
Oh!
Oh...
I don't know what's goin' on.
You guys have to believe me.
I have spent a whole year
studying conspiracy theories
with Professor Professorson right here!
Wait! Of course!
Conspiracy theories.
This is a test.
He's teaching me about real conspiracies
by erasing his existence!
Oh, my God.
Do you know what this means?
That's how stupid Jeff
thinks other people are.
I always knew you were lazy,
but I didn't realize
that you would stoop
to such pathetic lies!
One man's lies are
another man's truth...
Wouldn't you say, Jeff?
I'm sorry. And who are you?
I'm Professor Professorson.
Ha. Wow, you...you really
had me going there
for a second, professor.
I thought I was going insane.
Precisely.
An actual conspiracy to
round out your education
in conspiracies and theories thereof.
Your real name...
is Professor Professorson?
My family name is Professorberg,
but we changed it when we
were fleeing from the Nazis.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
You've probably never heard of me
since I primarily teach night school.
My faculty ID.
Oh, well, I...
guess I never stuck around late enough
to meet you night school professors.
TV's gotten crazy good, you know.
I have to take this.
Thank you for indulging me, dean.
Jeff, read chapters 10
through 12 of Douglas
and see you next week.
That is...
if I still exist.
See you, professor.
Sorry to doubt you, Jeffrey.
More importantly, out with this audit,
back to chapter one of time desk...
The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous.
That is gonna be the
worst book I'll ever read
- cover to cover.
- I'm a terrible friend.
I accused you of being a lying cheat.
- Can you ever forgive me?
- Sure.
Here's the thing, though.
I've never seen that guy in my life!
What? That wasn't
Professor Professorson?
There is no Professor Professorson!
I made him up! I forged a form
with a phony teacher and
class for a free credit!
I knew it!
Oh, you lying cheat!
Wait. Then...
who was that?
I don't know!
- Wait, what?
- I don't know!
What should we do?
I think we should grab some lunch.
- I'm serious.
- So am I.
I just saw fat Neil
head to the cafeteria
with that look in his eye.
We got ten minutes to
grab the last lima bean.
Jeff, you made up a professor,
and he just appeared out of thin air.
You're not the least bit
curious how that happened?
My latest theory?
Maybe I'm a God.
I've denied the signs for too long.
This is so typical.
You're just gonna
blow off what happened.
Yes, especially when not blowing it off
might cost me my free credit.
Now, do me a favor.
Be very un-Annie and blow it off too.
Oh, sure. I'll just blow it off.
I'll just blow everything off.
Heck, I guess I'll just
blow off walkin'!
- Okay.
- I'll just blow off standing.
I'm just blowin' everything off!
Maybe I'll blow off talking language.
Okay.
Blee blu blah blah blah
blee blu blu blah...
Hey, bros, what's the ha...
Ohh!
Sweet fort!
Can I come inside?
You could, Pavel...
or... maybe the inside
could come to you.
How would you characterize
the amount of blankets
and pillows you have?
A butt load?
I get wicked cold, bros,
and mad sleepy.
If you're here to
help me take my diorama
to the bio-diorama-rama,
I can do it myself.
Yes. You made that clear
in your 11th "I can do it myself" text.
You even work too hard
at passive-aggression,
you know that?
Hey, so...
do you know anything about
greendale's night school?
Yeah. I'm assuming it's the worst thing
you could ever hope to be in...
Only at night.
Damn it, Annie.
Have you been playing detective?
You are gonna Nancy
screw me out of my credit.
Relax. All I did was ask
the administration desk
if I could borrow a faculty directory.
Take a look at this.
Is that Professorson?
His real name is Professor Woolley,
and he actually does
teach night school here.
Why would someone you've never met
pretend to be your phony Professor?
He was already carrying
falsified faculty credentials.
Do you know what this means?
Yes. You are making me do work
for my fake conspiracy class!
Exactly.
There's a conspiracy here.
A dark, vast conspiracy
that may just go all the way to the top.
This is greendale, Annie.
If there's a conspiracy,
it goes all the way to
slightly below the middle.
Wait a minute.
Something's wrong.
My car won't start.
Hold on one second.
Hello.
Tell your little friend
to stop snooping around night school,
otherwise, things
might get... explosive.
Annie!
You okay?
Yeah.
Probably didn't need to tackle you.
Probably not.
Looks like someone sent us a message...
A tiny, thoroughly
underwhelming message.
I hope you've already
laid out your outfit
for tomorrow morning...
because we're going to night school.
I stole these from my son's house.
When does a fort stop being a fort?
Hey. As long as it's still
made out of blankets...
Right?
These'll be perfect
for the Pierce's mom memorial tunnel.
How ' bout this one?
No. That's Professor Huyck's class...
"History of... Something."
You can't pronounce it?
No. It literally says
history of something.
Let me see that.
"Principles of Intermediate?
"Studyology"? "Class 101"?
Look, this one just says learning
with an exclamation point.
Hello, Professor Professorson.
Or should I say... Woolley?
What class are you
teaching tonight, professor?
Math.
- Math?
- Uh-huh.
Do you mind if we sit in?
Not at all. Right this way.
So what kind of math
do you teach, professor?
Well, you know, math.
Uh... Numbers.
Pi.
New math. Uh...
Get him!
He went into that blanket fort!
I think he went this way!
- Do you see him?
- Oh, sorry.
- No!
- Sorry.
- Troy! Abed!
- Hey, guys.
Welcome to Fluffy town.
No smoking, no farting,
no pillow fighting.
- We're in a chase!
- That's allowed.
There he is!
- Follow us.
- But afterwards,
you should really check out
our civil rights museum.
Leonard, back up!
You shouldn't even be in here, Leonard.
You already have three
farting strikes against you.
W... He's getting away!
I know a shortcut.
Through the turkish district.
Britta?
Hey.
Go!
There he is!
What the hell's this?
Latvian independence parade.
Don't look at me.
They had the proper permits.
Dang it! We lost him!
Luckily, I sent the
diorama car to the chem lab
to have the explosive analyzed.
Isn't that him playing the trejdeksnis?
Nice try, Woolley!
Now, tell us everything.
Tell you?
Ha ha ha.
I'll show you!
What is this place?
This, Annie, is night school.
Every student, every teacher,
every class...
Figments...
Puffs of hot air...
from the lips of a ghost
in the shadow of a unicorn's dream.
I made it up.
Night school doesn't exist.
I used to be a student here
at Greendale like you, Jeff,
then one day I invented a
fake course to get a free credit.
To keep up the lie,
I had to create a fake teacher
who needed other fake classes
that needed to be filled
with other fake students,
and so on and so on
and so on, "etchethra"!
Did you just mispronounce et cetera?
My Latin class is fake, Jeff...
Like all my classes, like my life.
Aren't you listening?
Yeah, I am.
And a very familiar feeling
is starting to come over me.
I feel like someone is
trying to teach me something.
Jeff, the only thing
that's ever been learned
in this room is regret!
Would that this desk
were a time desk...
so that I could correct
my past mistakes...
Ride dinosaurs...
Fight with Jack the Ripper.
Oh, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Unicorns? Ghost lips?
Time desks?
Doesn't any of this
overly stylized garbage
remind you of anyone?
Everything this guy says is ripped from
the Sure-To-Be-Unpublished Pages
of Dean Dangerous.
I don't know what you mean.
Oh, I think you do.
By the way, next time you
walk someone to your fake lair,
don't pass the theater department...
Drama Professor Sean Garrity.
Whoa!
Thank God.
That character was killing me.
Word of advice... If you ever
scrape the dean's car,
don't tell him you're gonna
pay him back in acting.
On Thanksgiving, I'm supposed
to crash his family dinner
and accuse him of
stealing my girlfriend.
Wow. I guess this did go
all the way to the top.
I'm calling the dean right now
and giving him a piece of my mind!
No, wait.
Garrity...
Does the theater department
have any of those prop guns
that fire blanks?
Of course. We just did a
modern retelling of MacBeth
set in gangland Chicago.
Oh. Fresh take.
And you think I'm lazy.
Prop guns?
Jeff... What do you have in mind?
A little demonstration for the dean
on the dangers of trying to educate me.
He doesn't like fake classes?
Well, he's about to get
a real lesson on the fact
that Jeff Winger never learns.
Here he comes. Get set.
You wanted to see me?
Oh.
Hi, Mr... Professorson.
His real name is Woolley.
And he's defrauded your school
to a tune of dozens of credits per year
and nearly twice as many dollars.
Well, that's serious.
Fortunately for you,
I'm a big believer in second chances.
I'm not.
Hey!
Annie!
Oh, my God, you... you shot him!
Course I shot him!
He was being dishonest.
And if there's one thing
greendale's taught me, it's...
- Whoa, what the hell?
- She had a gun!
It was a fake gun! We staged this
to get back at you for deceiving us!
But you're the deceiver, Jeffrey!
Yeah? Well, now you're the dead guy.
Jeff! What are you doing?
Why do you have a real gun?
Why did you shoot the dean?
- Well, he shot you!
- Not really!
He and I were in on this from the start.
When he found out you
were faking a class,
he came to me and we cooked
up this whole conspiracy thing
to illustrate the slippery slope
of academic fraud!
You know what you
actually illustrated, Annie?
How to be a crappy friend.
Once it was obvious
the dean had orchestrated everything,
it was even more obvious
the dean was too stupid
to orchestrate anything.
- Mm-hmm!
- So on a hunch, I called him,
and we hatched a plan to
teach you a lesson or two
about friendship.
But, Jeff, I only did it
because I love you.
Well, when you love someone,
you have to take them as they are.
People aren't playthings, Annie.
No, they are not.
Look who's talking.
After everything you've put me through?
Okay. Where'd you get that gun?
There were only three prop guns.
Yeah, well, I live in
a terrible neighborhood.
Annie, put the gun down.
After we kissed,
I waited all summer to see you.
You... buried me
like a shameful secret.
Whoa.
What's the matter, Jeff?
Afraid crazy Annie
would go crazy for you?
Well, guess what.
Annie's got a gun.
Annie, just put the gun...
Annie... What have you done?
If you love Jeff winger so much,
why did you conspire
with me against him?
I don't know!
I can't keep track of any of it anymore!
I just keep teaming up
with whoever suggests it!
Glad to hear you admit it.
When I called you to ask you
to double-cross Annie,
you didn't hesitate for a second.
Do you even understand
what a conspiracy is?
If you conspire with every
person that approaches you,
you're not even really
conspiring with anyone.
You're just doing random crap.
I know, I...
I'm sorry! I just...
I just wanna have fun
with you guys and...
I go crazy cooped up in
my little office, and...
Time travel is really
hard to write about!
Ohhhh...kay!
If I'm keeping track right,
we should be done.
I'll just take these back
to the theater department.
- Police!
- Aah!
Drop your weapons!
- Down on the ground!
- Don't shoot, officer!
Don't shoot, please.
They're fake...
Those are prop guns!
Well...
I guess it just goes to show you...
prop guns belong backstage.
And... Scene.
You have got to be kidding me!
Professor garrity called and told me
what all of you were up to.
Made me mad. Guns aren't toys.
In 100% of all fake gun
related shootings,
the victim is always the
one with the fake gun.
Hey, Sean, you got breakfast plans?
I do now.
So, Sean...
We're still on for Thanksgiving, right?
Just talk to your father, Craig.
Would that this hoodie
were a time hoodie.
Hey, dean,
how 'bout that credit?
Aaa
damn it.
I'm not sure what lessons
either of us managed
to teach each other,
but I am proud of Annie.
She took to deception like
Abed took to Cougar Town.
It's really good.
Especially when she went off script.
You said to be convincing.
Check it out, bros.
You made the front page!
You know what this means.
We've gone mainstream.
Initiate Protocol Omega.
We've started looting!
Wanna build a cardboard submarine?
Get out of my brain.
- Once...
- Upon...
- A...
- Time...
- There...
- Was...
A...
- Big...
- Spaceship.
- And...
- Aliens.
- And...
- Mercenaries.
- And?
- War.
- And?
- Betrayal.
And?
Romance?
- And...
- Karate.
- And?
- Credits.
- The...
- End.
We should write a screenplay together.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.
What appointments?
Wishful thinking.
It's called alternative energy,
the key to a brighter tomorrow.
Notice all the animals
wearing sunglasses.
Because it's a brighter tomorrow.
Yeah.
My boys are in elementary school.
They don't make nearly
as many dioramas as we do.
The whole environmental club
is making them for green week.
And this afternoon in the cafeteria,
we're having a bio-diorama-rama.
I heard one kid made a diorama
about a world without dioramas.
It's still cool if I sleep
at your place tonight, right?
Totally. Hey, since we're
both done with classes,
- we can start the sleepover now.
- Let's get in our pajamas
- and build a blanket fort.
- Let's do it.
A blanket fort. Wow!
You can come hang out in it
with us later if you want.
Uh, thanks, but I think
I'll find something
- more grown-up to do.
- Hmm. Okay.
Enjoy eating fiber and
watching The Mentalist.
Britta, that wasn't nice.
I'm sorry, Shirley,
but who wants to hang out
in a blanket fort with
grown men in tiny underoos?
Hello! So... Jeffrey,
I was just looking over
your class schedule.
- Why?
- Uh...
Maybe it was a random spot-check.
Maybe it was a specific spot-check.
Maybe I'm making a scrapbook.
The point is
you will not be receiving credit
for your independent study:
Conspiracy theories in US history.
What? Why not?
Because the class doesn't exist.
And neither does the teacher...
Professor Professorson?
What? That's his name!
- Oh...
- It's Dutch.
- I think it means professor.
- I think it means poppycock.
The ultimate Jeff Winger
blow-off class...
The one that doesn't exist.
Now I have to audit an
entire system for shenanigans,
which means... bye-bye weekends.
Bye-bye writing at Starbucks
till a certain persian barista
asks me about my novel.
God, Jeff!
It's one thing to blow off
regular classes,
but this devalues all the credits
I work very hard for.
- Mm-hmm.
- Can I defend myself
and say this is nuts?
I've been meeting with this professor
in his office every Wednesday
all semester.
Professor Professorson.
- Yes!
- Really?
You're gonna commit to this?
Commit to what... Reality?
Okay, then, please... lead me
- to Professor Professorson.
- Gladly.
- This I gotta see.
- I have always dreamt
of playing charades
with you, Jeffrey...
Just not like this, not on dry land.
Community 2x09 - Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design
Oh, man!
You thinking what I'm thinking?
We're too big for this, aren't we?
Yeah.
But if we went two pillows
higher in the corner,
we could vault the ceiling...
Bump up the square footage.
Make this a blanket fort for men.
Babu-gabku boo-gee....
babu-jabbu-babu-bee.
Well, here we are.
Professor Professorson's office.
Oh!
Oh...
I don't know what's goin' on.
You guys have to believe me.
I have spent a whole year
studying conspiracy theories
with Professor Professorson right here!
Wait! Of course!
Conspiracy theories.
This is a test.
He's teaching me about real conspiracies
by erasing his existence!
Oh, my God.
Do you know what this means?
That's how stupid Jeff
thinks other people are.
I always knew you were lazy,
but I didn't realize
that you would stoop
to such pathetic lies!
One man's lies are
another man's truth...
Wouldn't you say, Jeff?
I'm sorry. And who are you?
I'm Professor Professorson.
Ha. Wow, you...you really
had me going there
for a second, professor.
I thought I was going insane.
Precisely.
An actual conspiracy to
round out your education
in conspiracies and theories thereof.
Your real name...
is Professor Professorson?
My family name is Professorberg,
but we changed it when we
were fleeing from the Nazis.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
You've probably never heard of me
since I primarily teach night school.
My faculty ID.
Oh, well, I...
guess I never stuck around late enough
to meet you night school professors.
TV's gotten crazy good, you know.
I have to take this.
Thank you for indulging me, dean.
Jeff, read chapters 10
through 12 of Douglas
and see you next week.
That is...
if I still exist.
See you, professor.
Sorry to doubt you, Jeffrey.
More importantly, out with this audit,
back to chapter one of time desk...
The Chronicles of Dean Dangerous.
That is gonna be the
worst book I'll ever read
- cover to cover.
- I'm a terrible friend.
I accused you of being a lying cheat.
- Can you ever forgive me?
- Sure.
Here's the thing, though.
I've never seen that guy in my life!
What? That wasn't
Professor Professorson?
There is no Professor Professorson!
I made him up! I forged a form
with a phony teacher and
class for a free credit!
I knew it!
Oh, you lying cheat!
Wait. Then...
who was that?
I don't know!
- Wait, what?
- I don't know!
What should we do?
I think we should grab some lunch.
- I'm serious.
- So am I.
I just saw fat Neil
head to the cafeteria
with that look in his eye.
We got ten minutes to
grab the last lima bean.
Jeff, you made up a professor,
and he just appeared out of thin air.
You're not the least bit
curious how that happened?
My latest theory?
Maybe I'm a God.
I've denied the signs for too long.
This is so typical.
You're just gonna
blow off what happened.
Yes, especially when not blowing it off
might cost me my free credit.
Now, do me a favor.
Be very un-Annie and blow it off too.
Oh, sure. I'll just blow it off.
I'll just blow everything off.
Heck, I guess I'll just
blow off walkin'!
- Okay.
- I'll just blow off standing.
I'm just blowin' everything off!
Maybe I'll blow off talking language.
Okay.
Blee blu blah blah blah
blee blu blu blah...
Hey, bros, what's the ha...
Ohh!
Sweet fort!
Can I come inside?
You could, Pavel...
or... maybe the inside
could come to you.
How would you characterize
the amount of blankets
and pillows you have?
A butt load?
I get wicked cold, bros,
and mad sleepy.
If you're here to
help me take my diorama
to the bio-diorama-rama,
I can do it myself.
Yes. You made that clear
in your 11th "I can do it myself" text.
You even work too hard
at passive-aggression,
you know that?
Hey, so...
do you know anything about
greendale's night school?
Yeah. I'm assuming it's the worst thing
you could ever hope to be in...
Only at night.
Damn it, Annie.
Have you been playing detective?
You are gonna Nancy
screw me out of my credit.
Relax. All I did was ask
the administration desk
if I could borrow a faculty directory.
Take a look at this.
Is that Professorson?
His real name is Professor Woolley,
and he actually does
teach night school here.
Why would someone you've never met
pretend to be your phony Professor?
He was already carrying
falsified faculty credentials.
Do you know what this means?
Yes. You are making me do work
for my fake conspiracy class!
Exactly.
There's a conspiracy here.
A dark, vast conspiracy
that may just go all the way to the top.
This is greendale, Annie.
If there's a conspiracy,
it goes all the way to
slightly below the middle.
Wait a minute.
Something's wrong.
My car won't start.
Hold on one second.
Hello.
Tell your little friend
to stop snooping around night school,
otherwise, things
might get... explosive.
Annie!
You okay?
Yeah.
Probably didn't need to tackle you.
Probably not.
Looks like someone sent us a message...
A tiny, thoroughly
underwhelming message.
I hope you've already
laid out your outfit
for tomorrow morning...
because we're going to night school.
I stole these from my son's house.
When does a fort stop being a fort?
Hey. As long as it's still
made out of blankets...
Right?
These'll be perfect
for the Pierce's mom memorial tunnel.
How ' bout this one?
No. That's Professor Huyck's class...
"History of... Something."
You can't pronounce it?
No. It literally says
history of something.
Let me see that.
"Principles of Intermediate?
"Studyology"? "Class 101"?
Look, this one just says learning
with an exclamation point.
Hello, Professor Professorson.
Or should I say... Woolley?
What class are you
teaching tonight, professor?
Math.
- Math?
- Uh-huh.
Do you mind if we sit in?
Not at all. Right this way.
So what kind of math
do you teach, professor?
Well, you know, math.
Uh... Numbers.
Pi.
New math. Uh...
Get him!
He went into that blanket fort!
I think he went this way!
- Do you see him?
- Oh, sorry.
- No!
- Sorry.
- Troy! Abed!
- Hey, guys.
Welcome to Fluffy town.
No smoking, no farting,
no pillow fighting.
- We're in a chase!
- That's allowed.
There he is!
- Follow us.
- But afterwards,
you should really check out
our civil rights museum.
Leonard, back up!
You shouldn't even be in here, Leonard.
You already have three
farting strikes against you.
W... He's getting away!
I know a shortcut.
Through the turkish district.
Britta?
Hey.
Go!
There he is!
What the hell's this?
Latvian independence parade.
Don't look at me.
They had the proper permits.
Dang it! We lost him!
Luckily, I sent the
diorama car to the chem lab
to have the explosive analyzed.
Isn't that him playing the trejdeksnis?
Nice try, Woolley!
Now, tell us everything.
Tell you?
Ha ha ha.
I'll show you!
What is this place?
This, Annie, is night school.
Every student, every teacher,
every class...
Figments...
Puffs of hot air...
from the lips of a ghost
in the shadow of a unicorn's dream.
I made it up.
Night school doesn't exist.
I used to be a student here
at Greendale like you, Jeff,
then one day I invented a
fake course to get a free credit.
To keep up the lie,
I had to create a fake teacher
who needed other fake classes
that needed to be filled
with other fake students,
and so on and so on
and so on, "etchethra"!
Did you just mispronounce et cetera?
My Latin class is fake, Jeff...
Like all my classes, like my life.
Aren't you listening?
Yeah, I am.
And a very familiar feeling
is starting to come over me.
I feel like someone is
trying to teach me something.
Jeff, the only thing
that's ever been learned
in this room is regret!
Would that this desk
were a time desk...
so that I could correct
my past mistakes...
Ride dinosaurs...
Fight with Jack the Ripper.
Oh, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Unicorns? Ghost lips?
Time desks?
Doesn't any of this
overly stylized garbage
remind you of anyone?
Everything this guy says is ripped from
the Sure-To-Be-Unpublished Pages
of Dean Dangerous.
I don't know what you mean.
Oh, I think you do.
By the way, next time you
walk someone to your fake lair,
don't pass the theater department...
Drama Professor Sean Garrity.
Whoa!
Thank God.
That character was killing me.
Word of advice... If you ever
scrape the dean's car,
don't tell him you're gonna
pay him back in acting.
On Thanksgiving, I'm supposed
to crash his family dinner
and accuse him of
stealing my girlfriend.
Wow. I guess this did go
all the way to the top.
I'm calling the dean right now
and giving him a piece of my mind!
No, wait.
Garrity...
Does the theater department
have any of those prop guns
that fire blanks?
Of course. We just did a
modern retelling of MacBeth
set in gangland Chicago.
Oh. Fresh take.
And you think I'm lazy.
Prop guns?
Jeff... What do you have in mind?
A little demonstration for the dean
on the dangers of trying to educate me.
He doesn't like fake classes?
Well, he's about to get
a real lesson on the fact
that Jeff Winger never learns.
Here he comes. Get set.
You wanted to see me?
Oh.
Hi, Mr... Professorson.
His real name is Woolley.
And he's defrauded your school
to a tune of dozens of credits per year
and nearly twice as many dollars.
Well, that's serious.
Fortunately for you,
I'm a big believer in second chances.
I'm not.
Hey!
Annie!
Oh, my God, you... you shot him!
Course I shot him!
He was being dishonest.
And if there's one thing
greendale's taught me, it's...
- Whoa, what the hell?
- She had a gun!
It was a fake gun! We staged this
to get back at you for deceiving us!
But you're the deceiver, Jeffrey!
Yeah? Well, now you're the dead guy.
Jeff! What are you doing?
Why do you have a real gun?
Why did you shoot the dean?
- Well, he shot you!
- Not really!
He and I were in on this from the start.
When he found out you
were faking a class,
he came to me and we cooked
up this whole conspiracy thing
to illustrate the slippery slope
of academic fraud!
You know what you
actually illustrated, Annie?
How to be a crappy friend.
Once it was obvious
the dean had orchestrated everything,
it was even more obvious
the dean was too stupid
to orchestrate anything.
- Mm-hmm!
- So on a hunch, I called him,
and we hatched a plan to
teach you a lesson or two
about friendship.
But, Jeff, I only did it
because I love you.
Well, when you love someone,
you have to take them as they are.
People aren't playthings, Annie.
No, they are not.
Look who's talking.
After everything you've put me through?
Okay. Where'd you get that gun?
There were only three prop guns.
Yeah, well, I live in
a terrible neighborhood.
Annie, put the gun down.
After we kissed,
I waited all summer to see you.
You... buried me
like a shameful secret.
Whoa.
What's the matter, Jeff?
Afraid crazy Annie
would go crazy for you?
Well, guess what.
Annie's got a gun.
Annie, just put the gun...
Annie... What have you done?
If you love Jeff winger so much,
why did you conspire
with me against him?
I don't know!
I can't keep track of any of it anymore!
I just keep teaming up
with whoever suggests it!
Glad to hear you admit it.
When I called you to ask you
to double-cross Annie,
you didn't hesitate for a second.
Do you even understand
what a conspiracy is?
If you conspire with every
person that approaches you,
you're not even really
conspiring with anyone.
You're just doing random crap.
I know, I...
I'm sorry! I just...
I just wanna have fun
with you guys and...
I go crazy cooped up in
my little office, and...
Time travel is really
hard to write about!
Ohhhh...kay!
If I'm keeping track right,
we should be done.
I'll just take these back
to the theater department.
- Police!
- Aah!
Drop your weapons!
- Down on the ground!
- Don't shoot, officer!
Don't shoot, please.
They're fake...
Those are prop guns!
Well...
I guess it just goes to show you...
prop guns belong backstage.
And... Scene.
You have got to be kidding me!
Professor garrity called and told me
what all of you were up to.
Made me mad. Guns aren't toys.
In 100% of all fake gun
related shootings,
the victim is always the
one with the fake gun.
Hey, Sean, you got breakfast plans?
I do now.
So, Sean...
We're still on for Thanksgiving, right?
Just talk to your father, Craig.
Would that this hoodie
were a time hoodie.
Hey, dean,
how 'bout that credit?
Aaa
damn it.
I'm not sure what lessons
either of us managed
to teach each other,
but I am proud of Annie.
She took to deception like
Abed took to Cougar Town.
It's really good.
Especially when she went off script.
You said to be convincing.
Check it out, bros.
You made the front page!
You know what this means.
We've gone mainstream.
Initiate Protocol Omega.
We've started looting!
Wanna build a cardboard submarine?
Get out of my brain.
- Once...
- Upon...
- A...
- Time...
- There...
- Was...
A...
- Big...
- Spaceship.
- And...
- Aliens.
- And...
- Mercenaries.
- And?
- War.
- And?
- Betrayal.
And?
Romance?
- And...
- Karate.
- And?
- Credits.
- The...
- End.
We should write a screenplay together.
Cool. Cool, cool, cool.