Sabrina, the Teenage Witch (1996–2003): Season 7, Episode 1 - Total Sabrina Live: Part 2 - full transcript

Morgan submits Sabrina's article to a contest and she lands a job at Scorch magazine. Zelda and Hilda move back to the Other Realm and Sabrina and friends move into their house.

Okay, I don't know
what happened here,

but 100 bucks says
I get blamed for it.

Sabrina, before I go,
I just wanted to say...

Salem.

Where is my bookie
when I need him?

Wait a minute.

This looks like Sabrina's mouth.

These are her eyes
and this looks like her...

Sorry, Sabrina.

Well, don't just stand there, lug nut,
sweep her up.

Whoa.



Sabrina, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine,

except that you were standing
on my tongue.

- How did I get put back together?
I did it.

Aunt Zelda?

You gave up your adult years
for me?

That is so generous

and a very crafty way
to get rid of wrinkles.

I know it might be a little strange
having an 8-year-old to look after you.

You don't have to
look after me anymore.

You and Aunt Hilda have taught me
everything I need to know.

Now, I need to prove that I can get by
without relying on you guys.

I'm gonna be graduating soon.

I'm gonna be looking for a new job
as a reporter.



So you don't have to take care
of anyone anymore.

We've got to do something.

Three months living in this house
and we still run out of hot water.

I don't know
what you are talking about.

I take a two-hour shower
every morning and it never runs out.

- Is that the mail? Can I have it?
- Excuse me.

You are not the only "occupant" here.

I can't believe I haven't gotten
a response to my r?sum?.

Sabrina, you gotta use connections.

I don't know
why you don't take me up on my offer.

I mean, my friend does write
for The Village Voice.

He writes letters to the editor.
He's a crackpot.

A published crackpot.

Oh, my God, I won.
I won the MTVcontest.

What contest?

Uh, it's some writing contest
where you...

- Oh, it's MTV. Who cares?
- Wow.

"Based on the essay
that you submitted,

you have been selected to interview
a rock band for Scorch magazine. "

Oh, maybe it'll be the Rolling Stones.
My nana will be so tickled, ha, ha.

Great, you bust your butt
trying to get a reporting job,

she gets one by submitting
a 3-by-5 card listing her turn-ons.

Hey, that's the way it goes.
I'm happy for her.

It says I'm supposed to go
to Scorch magazine for the details.

I'm out of it. Scorch?

What's that? Some kind of
trade publication for pyromaniacs?

It's only, like,
the coolest magazine ever.

If it weren't for them,
I wouldn't know what music I like.

Sabrina, get dressed.

- Why?
- Well, you have to come with me.

I mean, you can do
all that face-to-face stuff.

What I do is write.

And what I'm thinking of doing
is so wrong.

Wow. Everybody here is so young.

And they all look so...

What's the word?

Tragically hip?

Uh, that's two words.

Um, excuse me. Hi.

My friend is here to find out
about some contest she won.

She's supposed to talk
to a senior editor, Annie Martos?

Yeah, that's me.
Why are you speaking for her?

Uh, where's the little girl's room?
I kind of have to tinkle.

I get it. Come with me.

We'll go over the details.

You here for the contest?

Oh, no, my friend won the contest.

I'm just along for moral support.

Period. Close quote.

She punctuates when she talks.

No, I know this is
none of my business,

but the quotes
go on the outside of the period.

Damn, that's gutsy.

Exclamation point.

Sorry, force of habit. I'm a writer too.

Well, not this kind of stuff.
Serious journalism.

Oh, and, uh, this isn't
serious journalism?

Kandinsky Vodka
just gave us four free cases.

It's gonna be a early day, people.

Our advertisers
love to give me the freebies.

Hi, I'm Leonard.
Want a case of vodka?

- No, thanks.
- No problem.

- Wanna go out for eggs?
- Len.

Too much. I know.

Sabrina.

I get to go New York and
interview that band, Course of Nature

and write
a 1,200-word article about it.

You're kidding.
Do you even know 1,200 words?

Plus, I get to bring two friends.

I doubt this friend will wanna go.

It doesn't sound like, uh,
serious journalism.

You'd pass up a trip to MTV?

No, no. I'll go.

But only because I have a very solid
connection at the Village Voice.

I'm just following up
on the reporter job.

Yeah, but you got my r?sum?, right?

What does it matter if I don't know
how to surf. I'm a writer, not a surfer.

Fine. Unh.

Well, scratch off
True Surfer Stories Monthly.

Wow, you've been working the phones
non-stop for the past 24 hours.

I gotta get a job as a reporter, even
if I have to go as far as New York.

Why do you have to go
to New York?

You've already got an offer
from The Boston Globe.

Yeah, three days a week

as an assistant associate
to the associate assistant.

I think I'm a little beyond that.

Well, you better get something,

or I won't be the only one in this house
that's eating cat food.

Herald Examiner,
Fleming speaking.

Hi, my name is Sabrina Spellman,

calling to follow up
about my r?sum?.

Yeah, yeah, it's either in a file drawer
or in a pile. I'll get to it when I get to it.

But...
- Hold on.

Hello.

Okay, well, I can either sit here
on hold all day

or I can make something happen.

You sent me a fax?

I don't know,
I can't find anything around here.

Get my r?sum? out of the file
And put it right on top of the pile

I don't know where it is.
Why don't you fax me another one?

Uh, better yet, just bring it over.

Yeah, uh, who am I talking to again?

Oh, yeah. Uh...

Oh, how about that? It's right on top.

Well, I can squeeze one more in
tomorrow, all right? 1:00.

This is so exciting.

Hello, New York.

Be careful, Morgan.
New Yorkers love a moving target.

Hm-mm.
I would have come out earlier,

but I was stuck to a jawbreaker.

Hey, remember our deal.

I bring you to New York,
you don't whine,

complain or talk in front of people.

Don't worry, while you gals
are on your little MTVjunket,

I'm gonna take in the sights.

I'm not going to MTV.

I have that interview
at the Herald Examiner.

I really need this job and
I'm not leaving until they give it to me.

Mm.

The new Sabrina is feisty. Me likey.

It's just part of a hot dog.
It's their way of saying welcome.

Well, they can throw
whatever they want.

They can't stop me
from going on MTV.

Me neither.
I can't wait to go on TRL.

You? You don't seem like
a Total Request Live kind of person.

Of course not,

but I'll blend in with all the desperate,
squealing teenyboppers,

cozy up to Carson Daly,

and as soon as I'm on camera,
demand that people stop eating meat.

I'm not sure TRL
is the place for a protest.

I mean, it's not like it's the Oscars.

Oh, sir, can you pull over here?
All right, I'll meet you guys later.

Oh, no, no, no.

You have to help me
with the interview.

Morgan, my Herald Examiner
meeting is in 47 minutes.

I have to prepare to be spontaneous.
You'll be fine.

I don't know how to do an interview.
I can't write.

I stole a writing sample of yours
for the contest.

You did what?

Morgan, what a lousy thing to do.
You totally used Sabrina.

My writing sample won?

Wow.

To MTV. And step on it.

You won the contest,
you meet the band.

You two meet the street.

But they have to go in.

Yeah, we're interpreters.

Uh, one of the band members
is French and the other is German.

N'est pas, Mein Kampf?

Nice try.
You'll have to wait in the lobby.

My tooth.

Well, uh, at least now he has
something he wants for Christmas.

- Oh, hi, hi, we're here from...
- Yeah, can you give us just a sec?

We've gotta finish
working out this one part.

What if I missed you?

You got caught in the sun

What if I did something?

Never to be undone

Do you guys know,
"Oops! I Did It Again"?

Uh, why don't you jump in
with the interview questions?

I just did.

Ask him, uh,
what his influences are.

So who influenced you
to cut your hair so short?

Oh, uh, what distinguishes
Course of Nature from other bands?

Well, for one thing,
we're not conventional.

Don't play conventions.

No, I mean,
we don't do the usual rock-band thing.

Um, partying all night, getting wasted.
I don't even drink.

Well, now with all those piercings,
you'd leak. Ha, ha.

- I think she's gonna be just fine.
- Don't leave me.

I have to get to my interview
at the Herald Examiner

before my dream job
gets taken by somebody else.

Just ask whatever comes
into your head.

This could take a while.

Oh, I've got one.

Who here doesn't have a girlfriend?

All right, there you have your little
favorite Canadian Avril Lavigne

and "Sk8er Boi" at number three.

Avril Lavigne no stranger
to the top ten.

Roxie, I'm gonna be late
for my interview.

But I need your help
and so do a million cows.

Now, when we get next to Carson,

I'll show my shirt
and then you show yours.

Ugh. Can't I just wear one that says
"I'm with stupid"?

Anybody wanna give a shoutout?
Anybody?

Back here?
How about you, right over here?

Who do you wanna give
a shout out to?

Carson Daly.

Ha, ha, that's me.
But who do you wanna...?

What's this all about? It says "Meat. "
That's no way to refer yourself.

Oh, no, no, no. Um...

She has a message
she wants to get out.

- Right, Roxie?
- Okay, what is that?

Carson Daly.

- The message?
- What's this say?

"Kills meat. "

You guys are a member
of the Ted Nugent fan club?

Anything?

Anybody want to give a shoutout
that's not on medication?

How about you over here?

Oh, Roxie, I'm sorry
the message got all messed up.

I can't believe how hot he is
and how great it is to be on TRL.

Oh, way to fight the power, Roxie.

Oh, no, my interview.

Must have taken a wrong turn.

Whoa.

If this is Hell's Kitchen,
I'd hate to see the bathroom.

Okay, that is one big rat.

Hey, hi, uh, what's up, bro?

How about those teeth?
A little bleach will help that.

Sorry, I'm late.

- And you are?
- Way out of shape.

I'm Sabrina Spellman, your 1:00ish.

The important thing is you're here.
I need someone right away.

Really? Great.

All right. Details.

I like my coffee black,
my pencils sharp,

and someone's who not afraid
to ask questions.

I have a question. Why would I need
to know how you like your coffee?

That's what any good secretary
needs to know.

Secretary?

Yeah, well,
that's not exactly my dream job,

but I guess it's a start.

Well, absolutely.

Yeah, if you play your cards right,
do a good job,

10 to 15 years, you work your way up
to executive secretary.

- Is there a problem?
- Yeah, a big one.

For starters,
I don't have any secretarial skills,

and when I make coffee, it comes out
tasting like witches' brew, literally.

Then why are you here?

For a job as a reporter.

No, no, no.
Your r?sum? was in the secretary pile.

Look, I came all the way here
from Boston.

Could you at least read
my writing sample?

This is an article I wrote
for the Boston Citizen.

I blew the lid off
a phony baked bean scandal.

The lead's quite catchy, but...

But what?

Well, a reporter
at The Herald Examiner

needs to be a little more seasoned.

Why don't we agree to talk

when you've had a little more
writing experience

and, uh, matured a little.

Oh, I am very mature.

I was just at MTV
and between you and me, unh,

all that screaming
gave me a headache.

Kids, huh?

You were at MTV, huh?

One of my friends
was hanging out with a rock band

and the other one needed me there
because she's on TRL.

TRL? My God, it seems like every day
they're into some new drug.

- No, no, no, TRL is a...
- Look.

You're obviously a very fine writer,

and, uh, you have a lot
of youthful exuberance,

so why don't we agree to talk
when that wears off?

Okay, just a little setback. No biggie.

I mean, I said I could get along
on my own and I can. Right, Salem?

What do I care?

I got beat up by a rat.
He humiliated me.

I thought you said
you gave him a licking?

I did, but not in a macho way.

I'm sorry, Salem,
I have bigger problems.

Just butch it up.

Hmm, butch it up. That's an idea.

Work out a little, ha, ha.

Unh! One.

Sabrina, can you help me?

I don't know what to write
about Course of Nature.

Well, just use your notes.

"Lead singer, dreamy.
Guitarist, married.

Drummer, ignored me. Gay?"

What I'm saying is be resourceful.

There's all kinds of information
on the Internet,

in their liner notes,
or you can contact their fan club.

Boy, that sounds like a lot of work.

Hey, Sabrina,
why don't you write the article?

Fine. I'll write it,
but I'm taking the credit.

No more fronting for you.

I would never take credit
for something that you wrote.

Twice in one week.

So how'd it go in New York?

You know,
with that connection of yours.

Oh, oh. I decided that newspaper job
just wasn't for me.

Oh, good choice.
I mean, you'd have to move there.

Plus, you'd need a bicycle
and a, uh, good throwing arm.

It's very well-written.

Thank you. It came very easily.

Sometimes when the muse strikes...
Okay, she wrote it.

But I tried to write about the band,

but then I ran out of words
for "cute" and...

Okay, I absolutely do not care.

Well, I'm glad you liked it.
Now, we haven't discussed money.

I don't know
what the rate is these days,

but how does
10 cents a word sound?

Oh, I'll give you a quarter
just to stop talking.

How about that?
I already got a raise.

This article was for a contest.
We don't pay for it.

And in this case, we don't publish it.

You wanna send this to your mother.
She can tack it up on her fridge.

But I thought you said you liked it?

I said, it was very well-written.

Very professional.
Very well researched, very bland.

Are you calling my writing bland?

No, I think
I'm calling the author bland.

Anything printed in Scorch magazine
represents a certain point of view.

I mean, look around.
These people have life experience.

Cole was in a rock band
that used to open for Green Day.

James has traveled
to every continent.

Leonard is the publisher's cousin,
but the point is, when I look at you,

I'm guessing
your life comes down to,

oh, a junior high certificate
for perfect attendance,

and maybe once
you smoked a ham.

This may come at a bad time,
but, uh, I still have some of that vodka.

Len.
- Worth a shot.

Let's go.

Everyone keeps telling me
I need more experience.

At this rate, I'll never find a job.

What happened to the part-time job
at the Boston Globe?

The job's taken.
By my journalism professor.

Oh, Sabrina, you really blew it.

Honey, put this behind you.

You've been going on and on about it.
You've gotta stop obsessing.

Oh, my God, TRL is on.
Out of my way.

All right, there you have it.
Everybody loves Eminem.

Yeah, do it, Carson.

Okay, getting carried away.

Dial it down.

Cold turkey.

Cold turkey.

Yeah, talk about obsessed.

I'm going into the kitchen to
make a sandwich. Don't turn that off.

At seven,
it's your favorite Australian...

Move, you're blocking the view.

Whoa, someone got into
the Kibbles 'n Steroids.

Next time you're going to
the Big Apple,

take me with you.

I want to deliver a little message
to my friend Ratso.

Yeah, I got a message
I wanna deliver too.

Anyway, we're
gonna get to our next question...

Sorry, Roxie.

Cable's out.

Whatever you're doing, do it fast.

We gotta get back before
Roxie knows we're gone.

Don't worry,
it will only take a second for me

to turn that rodent into ratatouille.

All right, guys,
before we get to our next video,

I'm gonna give this young man
an opportunity

to say something to America.
He wants... Ha, ha, or her.

Survival of the fittest on TRL today.

- Uh, what's your request?
- I want a job.

Okay, what is that,
the new O-Town single?

No, I'm talking about me.
This sounds crazy.

My name is Sabrina Spellman,
I'm a journalist and I can't find a job.

I've gotten a few job offers
but, you know, I said no to them.

Uh, long story short, I'm an idiot.

Okay, there's definitely gonna be a job
in Security opening up here.

You could have that one. Good luck.
All right, we gotta get over here.

Does Security ever lead
to reporting on the air?

All right, cheese-breath.

It's you and me,
right here, right now.

So you brought some of your friends
from the sewer, huh?

Oh, please.

Not the face.

Welcome back, New York City,
Times Square.

I'm Carson Daly. TRL, we're...

I'm sorry, one last thing.
I wanna say to all you guys out there,

make sure you know a good
opportunity when you see it, okay?

People aren't just gonna hand you
your dream job on a silver platter.

Well, in fact, if they give you a job
carrying a silver platter, take it.

What I'm saying is

whether it's an established publication
like New York Herald Examiner

or a pretentious upstart zine
like Scorch,

don't be too proud
to start at the bottom.

- Anything else?
- Uh...

- Meat kills, wo-hoo!
- All right, guys.

Sorry. Sorry about that everybody.

All right...

If you called me here to tell me
I'll never work in this business,

I figured that out.

And that's why I'm done
with this stupid job search,

and who knows,
maybe journalism all together.

And just because I don't have
metal things sticking out of my face,

doesn't mean I'm not a good writer.

Period. End of sentence.

Fine. I'll tell Jonathan
you're turning down the job.

Job?

I called you down here
because I'm offering you a position.

Actually, our publisher is.

The only thing I'd offer you
is a new wardrobe.

That's insane. Why would
the publisher offer me a job?

That was my question exactly,
except for the profanity.

Apparently Jonathan caught you
on TRL. Liked what he saw.

He hired me because he said
I remind him of Diana Ross.

It doesn't matter.
She's not interested in this gig.

I mean,
it's not serious journalism, right?

He saw me on TV.

You happen to know if he taped it,
because I forgot.

I'll tell him you can't do it.
The club scene...

Excuse me, I can do it.

Yeah, I get it, Bo-peep.
The job's not right for you.

Okay, my name's not Bo-peep,

and job may not be right for me,
but I am right for the job.

I just wanna make that
fine yet important distinction.

I can do it. Don't want to.

- So you'll take it?
- Yes, please. When do I start?

Okay, smoothies all around.

It's time for a toast
to Sabrina's new job.

Morgan, did you leave
your laundry on the table?

No, that's Salem.

- He got into the gauze.
Ow!

Did you hear that?

"Me-ow. "