Dinosaurs (1991–1994): Season 2, Episode 13 - What 'Sexual Harris' Meant - full transcript

Honey, I'm home.

50 dinosaurs left dead
in bite-size pieces.

70-year-old Cora Dubois
feigns innocence.

We'll pursue her relentlessly
until she breaks down in tears

and confesses to these horrible acts
of unspeakable violence.

- Yeah, yeah!
- It all happens next on...

Just Admit It And We'll Go Away.

Ooh, violence.

Hey, where'd the violence go?

You're too young. Watch cartoons.

Give me violence! I want violence!
Gotta have violence!



It's either cartoons,

or we talk about the problems
I'm having with my feet.

Ooh, cartoons.

- [woman screams on television]
- Ahh...

- [gleefully] Violence.
- [gunshots]

Mom, my Creative Writing
teacher's making us write a poem

about our innermost feelings,

but I don't think that's really
important, so I wrote this:

[clears throat] "My bracelet
It's crummy and old."

I wish it were silver
Or, better yet, gold

Then I could sell it
And buy a big car

And a house and a boat
And move far...

away...

- from here."
- That's lovely, dear.



- What do you think, Daddy?
- Ask your mother.

Oh, boy.

- [clears throat] Morning, everybody.
- Hey! There's my special guy.

- Uh...
- How you doing, kid?

You look strong, you look good.
How do you feel?

- I feel, uh... hungry.
- Fran, the boy's hungry.

- I made your favorite breakfast.
- [Earl] Favorite breakfast.

You know, there's this thing
called Middle Child Syndrome.

Charlene, today is a very
special day for your brother.

Yeah. Besides, they just love me more.
[laughs]

You!

Hey, hey!

Today Robbie's going
to meet the Job Wizard

and find out what career he's gonna have
for the rest of his life.

So, Dad, is there anything
I need to know?

Well, Son,
it's a supernatural experience,

shrouded in an almost
impenetrable cloud of mystery.

But here are the bare bones.

Take the C bus to the Mystical Kingdom
of the Unknown,

then you gotta get on a tram,
they run every half-hour.

Then get off at the stop
marked "Destiny."

Wow. So that's where the guy is.

Guy?

Guy? This is no guy.

This is the all-knowing, all-seeing,
all-powerful Job Wizard.

He touches your head,
looks into your eyes,

and decides exactly what job you'll have
for your entire life.

Let me see, Rob.

[gasps]

Oh, look. Spokesmodel.

It's obvious. He'll take one look at me
and say two words: rock legend.

You used to say
you wanted to be a doctor.

No. That's what you used to say.

Come on, guys.
The whole beauty of our system

is you don't have to worry
about what you'll be.

The Wizard decides for you.

Uh, excuse me.
I'm here to see the Wizard.

- Behind the line.
- It's about my career.

Behind the line!

Well, when do I see the Wizard?

I'm the Wizard.
Here, take a look at this.

Does this look like tuna to you?

- You're the Wizard?
- Yeah. I'm the Wizard.

Name?

I thought this was supposed to be
mystical and magical and shrouded.

OK, bud.

Woo, woo, woo.

Give me your name.

- Better?
- That's it?

Well, there used to be smoke
and blinding lights,

this voice like thunder,
and that was a wall of flame,

but they cut the budget
and cut the budget

and cut and cut and cut,
and this is what you get.

- Name?
- Uh, Robert Mark Sinclair.

Uh...

Ah! Here we are. Sinclair.

Age 15, good grades,
always challenging tradition,

mother a housewife,
father a tree-pusher.

So, for you...

Rock legend.

- Tree-pusher.
- No!

You'd rather be a housewife?

You're supposed to look in my eyes
and make me what I was meant to be.

Like... anything
but a tree-pusher.

That's not what I wanted.

This isn't what I wanted,

but we're both just gonna
to have to eat it.

[strains] Did you eat a boulder?

Hungry. Feed me.

We can't eat until Robbie gets home.

- Look, Robbie's home!
- Where?

Ohh! No.

- Got to love me.
- I'm trying.

You guys never throw parties for me.

Charlene, you know we love you
every bit as much as Robbie.

He's here.

- Huh? Robbie!
- [Charlene screams]

Hey. There's my boy!

We can eat now! We can eat now!

- That's right.
- [Ethel] Robbie.

Hi, everybody. I'll be in my room.

What's the matter, Rob?
Were they out of rock legends?

- Yeah.
- [gasps]

Oh, Rob.

Oh, look at this, everybody.

Oh, my gosh, they've killed him.

- Ohh, dear.
- [Baby] What? Huh? What?

- Give.
- [Ethel sighs]

Yes! This is great! This is fantastic!

Son, you've got yourself a great job.

I'll be proud to have you
working by my side.

Ugh. I feel sick.

Of course you do.
It's natural to be nervous.

You're poised on the brink
of a great adventure.

You're gonna be a tree-pusher.

Gosh. I wish I was in your shoes.

You are, Dad.

Ohh! Yay for me.

Hey! Sinclair and Sons,
unskilled laborers.

- The future looks bright.
- Not to me.

Hey, if you don't believe me,
ask your mom. Franny.

Oh! Uh... Well, uh, Robbie,

it may not be the
most glamorous job in the world,

it, um, may not be a job
you brag about to strangers

or even admit to in public,
but it's a nice job,

and, um, I'm sure it will be very, uh...

very... nice.

- Yeah!
- [Robbie groans]

Well, that certainly sounds appealing.
Where do I sign up?

Ha, ha, ha. Well, you can't. They don't
hire bitter, shriveled-up old ladies.

Right. They usually only take
big fat slobs.

She'll be dead soon, Son.

Tomorrow you'll come to work
with your dad,

and I'll show you first-hand
how great your life is gonna be.

Another selling point.

And, you know, Son,

we tree-pushers
do a lot of good for society.

Oh, yeah? Like what?

Well, for instance,
the rainforest is expanding.

If we weren't here to push it back,

it would take over the Earth,

and everyone would get giddy
from all that extra oxygen.

- [groans]
- Uh, but...

what really makes the job special
is your co-workers.

These guys are great.

And funny? [laughs] Don't even ask.

Sometimes we get to giggling so hard,

we forget to go home.

Morning, guys.

Oh, I hate this stinking job!

Just once I wish I'd wake up dead.

See? Kidding already.
Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho.

Guys, you know my son Robbie.

[all greet Robbie]

We just found out he's gonna be
a tree-pusher like us.

[all groan]

- My condolences, kid.
- What a waste of a life.

Hey.

Hey, guys, come on.

This is the kid's first exposure
to tree-pushing.

- Let's tell him about the good things.
- Yeah, please.

All right, um... Uh...

Oh, boy.

Come on.

My wife's not here.

Yes! Yes!

And you get to work with your hands.

What?

Come on, guys.

You're forgetting about
the sheer thrill of the job.

Hey, Robbie, come with me.

[laughs excitedly]

Look. A tree.

Nature's wonder.

Tall, majestic,
alive for a thousand years.

Wow. Yeah.

- [creaking]
- [strains]

Now it's dead.

There's something you can be proud of.

Dad, has it ever occurred to you

that you guys
are just bulldozers with hats?

Firstly, it's a helmet,

and, second, a bulldozer's
just a dumb machine

doing the same stupid job over and over

with someone else at its driver's seat

telling it what to do.

Sinclair, you big dope, get in here!

Or I'm wrong.

- Now!
- [all panic]

Ohh! Excuse me, Son.

Sinclair, I just looked out my window

and saw something
that made me very unhappy.

Do you know what that was?

Uh, others enjoying themselves?

No. I saw you push down a tree
without getting its roots!

- Do you know what that means?
- Um... l get cake?

No, you thundering boob!

It means the tree's going to grow back!
And if we wanted them to grow back,

we wouldn't push them down, would we?

- No, sir.
- What?

- No, sir!
- That's right.

And to help you learn that,

you're gonna come in here on weekends

and do nothing but pull up roots
until you get it right.

But root-pulling
is a job for rank beginners.

What could be more humiliating?

Wearing this hat while you do it.

[laughs]

- Well, I did ask.
- Uh-huh. [continues laughing]

Uh, in its own way, Son,
even that was rewarding.

He's making you wear a hat?

Oh, and what a hat!

Notice the lacework
and the delicate silk flowers.

And, oh, look at the little ladybug.

Ha, ha, ha... [groans]

Son, I hope this doesn't diminish
the respect you have for me.

No, no chance, Dad.

Ohh, my career is a sham!

My life has no meaning

and I've got nothing
that goes with this hat!

[sobs]

Why are you stuck in a boring,
dead-end job?

I don't know.

Why does your boss yell at you?

Can't figure it out.

Why is your life such a complete mess?

Stop picking on me.

Why ask why?

Drink alcohol.

Nobody likes a thinker.

You may not be able to change your life,

but you can change
the way you look at it.

Alcohol. The more you drink,
the less you think.

I brought you some lunch, dear.

Oh, swell. Did you bring any alcohol?

The TV said I should be drinking more.

Alcohol is not the answer.
It only makes things worse.

You just need to cheer up.

And I made you your favorite dish: food.

Ohh, I can't eat.

I can't go to work. There's no point.

My life's a sham.

- Earl Snead Sinclair!
- [smashing]

Sometimes you make me so mad!

OK, OK, I'll eat!

But, uh, do you have a dress
to go with this hat?

You have a wonderful life
and a wonderful family,

but if you can't see that for yourself,

you can just stay in bed forever!

- [door slams]
- [shudders]

[sighs]

This can't be all my life
has come down to.

I wanted to be something better once.

[male voice] I hope he picks me.

[male voice #2] God, I need this job.

[female voice] I'd give anything to work
with a choreographer of his stature.

[male #3] He's so massive,
yet so graceful.

You're gonna sweat,
and you're gonna hurt,

but you're gonna thank me

because I'm gonna make you dancers!

Now, 5,6, 7, 8.

[ One Singular Sensation plays]

Yes! That's it. Come on, energy.

That's it. Point those toes.

Straight line, straight line.

Give me pizzazz. Give me smiles.

Kick, and turn, turn, turn, and, yeah!

Oh, those talented tootsies.

Stay together, stay together. [laughs]
Energy.

Come on, kids.
Sell it to the cheap seats.

You got it. Take us on home.

Oh, sparkle. You dazzling gypsies...

Yes! Ha ha. OK.

Hey! That was my home!

Oh, sorry about that, little guy.

Oh, it's hard to get mad at someone
with such a horrible job.

- [creature mutters]
- [Robbie sighs]

J Hate my job...

Oh, kid, what the heck are you doing?

Oh, well, it was kinda boring
just pushing down trees,

so I was trying to figure out
a kind of pulley system

that would do twice the work and...

Whoa, kid. Let me explain
one of the fundamentals of work.

- Don't do so much of it.
- What?

- How many trees you knock down so far?
- Seven or eight.

Oh! Ouch! No.
Listen, junior, you gotta pace yourself.

- You're making the rest of us look bad.
- Pace myself?

Yeah, you know, get a rhythm.
Knock down a tree, have a donut,

talk to your friends,
look for a new tree;

boom, lunchtime.

So what's the rush?
The trees aren't going anywhere,

- and you're not going anywhere.
- Well, yeah.

Hey, guys. Want a donut?

Uh, no, thanks, Mr. Turtlepuss.

Kid, take one now.

Uh, OK.

Don't anybody move.

Oh! Run!

Hide, hide, hide, hide.

Why aren't you knocking down trees?

Well, I was... uh...

- What's that in your hand?
- These? Donuts.

Would you like one?

Nobody eats donuts during working hours
while I'm in charge!

Oh, Mr. Richfield,
don't you think you're overreacting?

This is just a misunderstanding.

There's no reason for this tension
between you and your employees.

If you were a little more willing to
listen and a little less quick to yell,

this would be a much better place
to work.

Hmm. Interesting theory.

Step inside and let's discuss it,

and, uh, bring your bright ideas
with you.

[laughs]

See? All it takes is communication.

- Ahh.
- Nope.

[both groan dismissively]

Guys, I thought we weren't gonna
play hide-and-seek until after lunch.

- Shh!
- Nobody tells me anything.

No, Roy, it's Earl's kid.

He's in there with Richfield.

What? Richfield will eat him alive!
We got to do something.

Well, find your own tree.
This one's mine.

Aw, gee.

[Fran] Earl. Earl!

J One

- J Singular sens...
- Earl, wake up.

- What? What?
- Roy just called from work.

- Robbie's in trouble.
- Robbie? What's wrong?

- He wouldn't tell me.
- He wouldn't tell you!

Oh, I know Roy.
He's just protecting you.

Then he was probably eaten by predators.

- Huh?
- [wails]

Oh, and, uh, try not to worry, honey.
I'm sure it's nothing.

- Wha...
- [wails] I'm coming, Son!

[sighs]

Hang on, Robbie! Daddy's coming!

Hey! Where are you going?

Oh, Roy, where's Robbie?

I've got to save my son
no matter what the danger.

Volcanoes, floods, earthquakes.

My own personal safety is secondary.
Where is he, Roy?

In the trailer with Richfield.

On the other hand, he's 15 years old.
He's lived long enough.

You're not just gonna stand there,
are you?

Nnnn... No, I'm going.

Just come in in about 20 minutes.

- And bring a mop.
- Huh?

Nobody tells me
how to run things around here,

especially not the idiot son
of one of my idiot employees!

If I want to ask advice about anything,
I'll ask myself!

Mr. Richfield,
while you're taking a breath,

- if I could say something.
- [pants] Go ahead.

It's all right yelling at me, sir,

but there's something about you yelling
at my children that seems wrong.

- That's what I like about it!
- He's such a sensitive kid.

He's not used to such a loud job.

Well, he better get used to it.

He's gonna be a tree-pusher, isn't he?

- Maybe not.
- Huh?

I know that taking the job you're given

is a time-honored tradition,
but maybe...

and it kills me to say this...

maybe that tradition is... wrong.

- What?
- [Robbie whimpers]

I don't think my son
is right for this job,

so if you don't mind,
I'd like to take what's left of him

and find him a better job.

All right, go ahead. Fine.

Yelling at the kid

wasn't nearly as much fun
as I thought it would be, anyway.

Look at this.

[long, continuous yell]

Nothing.

He's a little overwhelmed, captain.

I guess you're right. Boo!

Aah!

[laughs] Welcome back, Sinclair.

Thank you, sir, always a pleasure.
Go. Go, Robbie.

- Go, go, go.
- OK.

Thank you, Your Bossness.
[aside] Go before he eats us.

Someone has to scrape
the gum off the chairs.

From now on, that's gonna be you.

- [she sobs]
- Number 42!

All right, you grand,
all-knowing, phony Job Wizard,

we're not going to take you
controlling our lives anymore.

Take a number, wait your turn.

- Yes, sir.
- Right. Yeah.

- Number 98!
- All right, you grand,

all-knowing, phony Job Wizard, you...

Tired of me controlling your life?

Yeah, that's right.
And we're not leaving

until you give my son a better job.

But I already gave him a job.

But you gave him the wrong one.

He's no good at tree-pushing.
He's got too much self-esteem.

- He hates the job.
- It's good enough for you.

Yeah, it's good enough for me,

but I want something better for my son,

I want him to have the job he wants.

You think I wanted this job?
I always wanted to be a dancer.

- Ooh.
- But I'm stuck here,

and he's gonna push trees.

Well, you gave it a shot.

No, it's wrong.

What would be so bad if everybody
got to pick their own job?

Follow their own dreams,
control their own destinies.

- Yeah.
- What would happen

if the world got to do
exactly what they wanted to do?

There'd be anarchy.

What would happen
if I slipped you 50 bucks?

Bang. No anarchy.

Excellent, Dad.

Here's your blank job certificate.

Pick whatever you like. [chuckles]

Huh? Yeah.

See, Son? The system works.

Ahh, thanks, Dad.

So, what job are you gonna pick?

Mmm, I don't know.

I might take a couple of years
to think about it.

See ya.

Do you really want to be a dancer?

5,6,7,8.

[7 Nice 'n Easy plays]

- Yes!
- Step, roll, step.

You got it.

Come on.

Turn, kick, step.
Make 'em love you.

- [Charlene] Mother!
- Hop, hop, hop.

Yeah.

- Back, forward, back.
- Yessir, yeah.

[both] Sell it.

Ha-ha-ha. Hey!

Mom, he's stretching out
my leg warmers.

Oh, let him have his fun, dear.
Aww.

Take it on home, Wizzie.

- All right.
- Watch that tail.

Yeah!

Oh, Earl.

Very nice.

Yeah!

J Always leave them wanting more I