That '70s Show (1998–2006): Season 3, Episode 22 - Eric's Drunken Tattoo - full transcript
Sneakily reading some passages from Donna's strictly private journal, Eric believes she considers him too tame, and decides to become hotter by getting her name tattooed on his behind, but(t) when you leave a job to hippie Leo, things go wrong... Red was not amused that Kitty invited pastor Dave over on the night of Vince Lombardi's tribute at the Packers on TV, but the roles reverse when it turns out Dave is a die-hard fan too; alas Red's band-aid gets lost in the pastor's dinner... Hearing Kelso say in his sleep 'Jackie, it's not going to work out', she is determined to get details, so she decides to get him to sleep by reading Nancy and Bett mystery books aloud...
- Hi.
- Hi.
- What you doing?
- Oh, just writing in my journal.
Like in Star Trek?
Captain's log, stardate 1978.
God, I'm so hot.
My beautiful red hair and giant jugs...
seem to...
drive all life-forms wild.
Oh, my God, Eric.
That's exactly what I was writing.
I'm gonna go make some popcorn
and get some sodas.
My beautifully sculpted hindquarters...
flounce downstairs to...
procure nourishment.
- Shut up.
- Okay.
Eric.
Eric.
Yes, Donna's journal?
I am the book of secrets, Eric.
Don't you wanna know what
she really thinks about you?
Read me. Read me.
You know, I really shouldn't.
Suit yourself.
But beware...
what you learn here
cannot be unlearned.
Okay, do you want me
to read you or not?
Sorry.
Eric and I went to second base tonight.
He was hilarious.
The prom is gonna be magical. I think
tonight I'm finally gonna sleep with Eric.
Which is like Woodstock,
but for vans.
Anyway, I think I'm finally
gonna sleep with Eric.
I love him so much.
Tonight I'm finally
gonna sleep with Eric.
Okay, let's just skip to the last page.
I had the weirdest dream
about Eric last night.
He was Eric, but he was also
Steven Tyler from Aerosmith...
and he looked really wicked
and dangerous.
Yeah! Wicked and dangerous.
Which is so not Eric.
Sometimes I wish he were like that.
Quick! Put me down!
Someone's coming!
Hi! Hello.
How are you? I didn't do anything.
You look pretty.
Hey! Glad you're back.
I missed you so.
- Did you read my journal?
- What journal?
You know, my captain's log.
No. Oh! No.
I was just, uh...
I was, uh, going through
your underwear drawer.
Yeah. I know.
That's why I look so guilty.
Because I was, like, you know...
taking out your underwear
and rubbing it against my skin.
I can't stay away from your underwear.
That's my curse.
So, anyway, see you tomorrow.
Gong him. Gong him! Gong him!
Yes!
This isn't gonna work, Jackie.
What, Michael?
This isn't gonna work, Jackie.
- What? What isn't gonna work?
- I'm sorry, but you and I...
- They're here! They're here!
- What? What?
- Oh, my God! Michael, what'd you say?
- Huh? I said, "What?"
My X-ray specs are here.
According to the ad
in the Richie Rich comic...
with these, you can see
through a lady's clothes.
Okay, Jackie, prepare to be ogled.
Swindled again.
Kitty, where's the Band-Aids?
I cut my thumb with a hacksaw.
Oh, Red, you know those things
are dangerous.
Well, I tried cutting
the metal pipe with a flower...
but it was real slow going.
Well, seeing as how
you're being all snarky anyway...
may as well tell you,
Pastor Dave is coming to dinner tonight.
Not tonight!
There's a Packer Report on tonight.
They're doing a tribute
to Vince Lombardi.
Red, you know I'm trying to get more
involved with the church, so he is coming.
Kitty, if Pastor Dave comes over,
we'll never get rid of him.
He'll just go on and on
about how great God is.
Well, he is.
He said,
"This isn't going to work, Jackie."
What if Michael secretly
wants to break up?
I need to get him to sleep again.
What if his unconscious mind knows
something his conscious mind doesn't?
Well, let's hope so.
At least he's not as boring as Eric.
We're not talking about Eric.
We're talking about Kelso.
Untrustworthy, two-timing, sneaks-around-
behind-your-back-and-reads-your-journal Kelso.
Okay, Donna, I'm sensing we're not talking
about me and Michael anymore...
so... bye!
Ow! Don't pinch me, you lumberjack!
Jackie, I think Eric read
my private journal.
Oh. Is this about the dream where
you wished Eric was Steven Tyler?
Hey, do you know who I really love?
- Jesus.
- Well, yes.
But I was going to say Vince Lombardi.
- You're a Packer man?
- Are you kidding? I bleed cheese.
Well, I'm not sure, but I think there
may be a Packer Report on tonight.
Red, I think you might be right.
I think it could start
in eight and a half minutes.
Then what do you say we choke our dinners
down, get our asses on the couch?
Amen!
Red, can you help me
in the kitchen, please?
Right now, please?
Red, this night is not about football.
This night is about company.
And our company wants
to watch the Packer Report.
He spends his life
doing the Lord's work...
and if you would deny
this holy little man...
that simple pleasure...
well, God have mercy
on your soul.
Just can it, Red.
Bring him his food.
You got six minutes.
I'm eating!
- Where is your Band-Aid?
- Oh, I don't know. I had it on a second ago.
Must have come off
while I was serving the...
Done!
Hey, Leo, thanks
for letting us hang out here.
I just... I didn't want to see Donna
after what she wrote.
Forman, no one cares.
That's true, man.
Listen, you guys know
I don't allow alcohol in my house...
so you're just gonna have
to drink sake instead.
"Sake" it to me, Leo.
Don't start with the sake jokes, Fez.
Oh, put a "sake" in it.
Well, this would be fun
if I wasn't so miserable.
Look, Forman,
we're happy to sit here...
and drink these tiny
allegedly alcoholic drinks...
but we don't wanna hear you
bitch about Donna all night.
Oh. Don't worry, Hyde.
I don't feel like talking about Donna.
You see, the thing about Donna is...
Here we go.
She acts like everything's all cool, okay?
And then, all of a sudden...
I'm no Steven Tyler.
Oh, Eric, give it up, for heaven's "sake."
You're still the king, man.
Man, I thought we were past the phase
where we had to impress each other.
You are.
Now you're in the she-dumps-you-
for-a-biker-with-a-wicked-tattoo phase.
The most entertaining of all phases.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God, Hyde! That's it!
A tattoo's dangerous!
There's a place next to the liquor store.
I could go get one right now.
No way, man.
We're not gonna let you go
to some sleazy tattoo parlor...
and spend money for something
you'll regret for the rest of your life.
I'll tattoo you for free, man.
I'm pretty sure
I used to do this for a living.
How cool am I?
A tattoo of my girlfriend's name.
How's that for dangerous?
Yeah, I think Debbie's
really gonna like this.
Wait. Debbie? No. Donna.
Right.
Okay. No problem.
- I can fix it.
- Fix what?
Relax. Debbie will never notice it.
It's Donna.
See, now you moved, man!
It's okay.
I can make that into a flower.
Oh, you know what you should get?
Boobs.
Big boobs on your butt.
That's classy.
Hey, I can turn the B's into boobs.
Wait. What B's?
Like in Debbie, your girlfriend?
It's Donna!
Oh, right.
Oh, I can fix that.
Hey. Jackie.
Hey, Michael.
I'm really glad you're here.
Okay! Time to go to sleep!
Oh, sleep? Whoa!
I thought we were gonna do it.
Michael, I invited you over
for a sleepover...
not a do-it over.
Okay? I told you.
We're gonna wait until we're ready.
So, uh, go to sleep.
No, Jackie, I'm not tired.
But, you know...
I always get tired right after.
Yeah, you don't have to tell me,
Michael.
I know! We'll read out loud. Yeah!
I'll be Nancy Drew,
and you could be her pudgy friend Bess.
Oh, damn it! I'm always Bess.
And then Bart Starr
fakes a handoff to Anderson...
and finds Dowler in the end zone
for the winning touchdown!
Wow, on TV it seemed confusing...
but with peanuts, it's all so clear.
- Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute, please?
- Yeah, just one second.
You go ahead and set 'em up again, and I'll
show you how the Packers won the Ice Bowl.
All right!
Okay, Red, don't you think it's time
your little friend went home?
Kitty, I'm just being sociable,
like you asked.
- Just being a good host.
- Oh, sure.
All good hosts feed
their guests Band-Aids.
Band-Aid, Kitty. Don't exaggerate.
Oh, my God!
Hospital, please.
"And Nancy Drew and Bess
left the police station..."
"and went to celebrate the solving
of the crime with hot fudge sundaes."
The end.
Wow.
Nancy's so smart.
Read another one.
Fine.
Okay, Nancy Drew
and the Mysterious Charming Clock.
"And they celebrated the solving
of the mystery of the clock...
with hot fudge sundaes."
The end.
Guess we solved the mystery
of why Bess was so pudgy.
This isn't going to work, Jackie.
What isn't going to work?
I can't sleep with you staring at me.
Eric, how did you get so hot?
I got a tattoo.
Eric's perfect.
Oh, yeah. Ow.
Ow.
Oh, yeah.
So, are you telling me
that you fed me a Band-Aid?
Well, um, to be honest...
Red fed you the Band-Aid.
How did this happen?
Red, why don't you diagram it
for him with peanuts?
Look, Dave, I'm real sorry.
I didn't realize how sick
a Band-Aid would make you.
Well, thank you
for your belated honesty...
but the doctor said I had food poisoning
from an undercooked sausage.
Food poisoning?
That's Kitty's department.
I have never undercooked
a sausage in my life.
I have a system. It's foolproof.
Hey, Kitty, it's okay.
We all make mistakes.
I...
Vince Lombardi is overrated.
That's right. He is overrated.
Ignore her. She's hysterical.
This isn't going to work, Jackie.
Us, Michael?
Are we not gonna work?
No. The car.
Jackie, the carburetor's busted.
This was all because of a stupid car?
We're gonna have to
take the bus to our wedding.
Our wedding?
Oh, Michael. That is so sweet.
I love you, Michael Kelso.
I love you too, Jackie Onassis.
Eric, what the hell?
Did you just kick my door?
No.
But I got a surprise.
I got a tattoo.
Guess where. On my butt.
Why?
Why?
Because I'm dangerous, lady.
Eric, I want you to be honest with me,
and I promise I won't get mad.
Did you read my journal?
Um, yeah.
You sneaky little dill-hole!
No! You know who's sneaky?
People who go around writing
their feelings in their journals...
and not telling their boyfriends
what they feel.
So, you know what? I'm not sorry.
I'm so sorry.
You want to know how I feel?
Fine. I'll tell you how I feel.
"Today at lunch I was looking at Eric
when he didn't know it...
and I just couldn't believe how much I love
him and how lucky I am to be with him."
- Why couldn't you read that page?
- Because you came back.
Look, Donna...
Look, I'm really sorry, but, you know,
it's just sometimes I get...
worried, you know?
Well, you know what? Suck it up.
Eric, these are my private thoughts,
and I'm allowed to have them.
You have to stop trying to be
what you think I want you to be...
and just, like, be yourself.
- Okay. I think I'm gonna go.
- Well, wait.
Take off your pants.
Really? All right.
No. To show me your tattoo.
- I knew that. Yeah. I knew that.
- Right. Yeah.
I think you're really gonna like it.
Just don't be mad if it says "Debbie."
Woodstock.
It says "Woodstock"?
No, it's a picture
of Snoopy's friend Woodstock.
You have a little yellow bird
on your ass.
If properly executed...
the power sweep is unstoppable.
Oh, Red, this is silly.
I don't wanna run this play again.
Well, we're gonna run it
until we get it right...
because, if properly executed...
the power sweep is unstoppable!
- Hut-one, hut-two.
- Who wants cookies?
- Oh, absolutely.
- Yeah.
- Hi.
- What you doing?
- Oh, just writing in my journal.
Like in Star Trek?
Captain's log, stardate 1978.
God, I'm so hot.
My beautiful red hair and giant jugs...
seem to...
drive all life-forms wild.
Oh, my God, Eric.
That's exactly what I was writing.
I'm gonna go make some popcorn
and get some sodas.
My beautifully sculpted hindquarters...
flounce downstairs to...
procure nourishment.
- Shut up.
- Okay.
Eric.
Eric.
Yes, Donna's journal?
I am the book of secrets, Eric.
Don't you wanna know what
she really thinks about you?
Read me. Read me.
You know, I really shouldn't.
Suit yourself.
But beware...
what you learn here
cannot be unlearned.
Okay, do you want me
to read you or not?
Sorry.
Eric and I went to second base tonight.
He was hilarious.
The prom is gonna be magical. I think
tonight I'm finally gonna sleep with Eric.
Which is like Woodstock,
but for vans.
Anyway, I think I'm finally
gonna sleep with Eric.
I love him so much.
Tonight I'm finally
gonna sleep with Eric.
Okay, let's just skip to the last page.
I had the weirdest dream
about Eric last night.
He was Eric, but he was also
Steven Tyler from Aerosmith...
and he looked really wicked
and dangerous.
Yeah! Wicked and dangerous.
Which is so not Eric.
Sometimes I wish he were like that.
Quick! Put me down!
Someone's coming!
Hi! Hello.
How are you? I didn't do anything.
You look pretty.
Hey! Glad you're back.
I missed you so.
- Did you read my journal?
- What journal?
You know, my captain's log.
No. Oh! No.
I was just, uh...
I was, uh, going through
your underwear drawer.
Yeah. I know.
That's why I look so guilty.
Because I was, like, you know...
taking out your underwear
and rubbing it against my skin.
I can't stay away from your underwear.
That's my curse.
So, anyway, see you tomorrow.
Gong him. Gong him! Gong him!
Yes!
This isn't gonna work, Jackie.
What, Michael?
This isn't gonna work, Jackie.
- What? What isn't gonna work?
- I'm sorry, but you and I...
- They're here! They're here!
- What? What?
- Oh, my God! Michael, what'd you say?
- Huh? I said, "What?"
My X-ray specs are here.
According to the ad
in the Richie Rich comic...
with these, you can see
through a lady's clothes.
Okay, Jackie, prepare to be ogled.
Swindled again.
Kitty, where's the Band-Aids?
I cut my thumb with a hacksaw.
Oh, Red, you know those things
are dangerous.
Well, I tried cutting
the metal pipe with a flower...
but it was real slow going.
Well, seeing as how
you're being all snarky anyway...
may as well tell you,
Pastor Dave is coming to dinner tonight.
Not tonight!
There's a Packer Report on tonight.
They're doing a tribute
to Vince Lombardi.
Red, you know I'm trying to get more
involved with the church, so he is coming.
Kitty, if Pastor Dave comes over,
we'll never get rid of him.
He'll just go on and on
about how great God is.
Well, he is.
He said,
"This isn't going to work, Jackie."
What if Michael secretly
wants to break up?
I need to get him to sleep again.
What if his unconscious mind knows
something his conscious mind doesn't?
Well, let's hope so.
At least he's not as boring as Eric.
We're not talking about Eric.
We're talking about Kelso.
Untrustworthy, two-timing, sneaks-around-
behind-your-back-and-reads-your-journal Kelso.
Okay, Donna, I'm sensing we're not talking
about me and Michael anymore...
so... bye!
Ow! Don't pinch me, you lumberjack!
Jackie, I think Eric read
my private journal.
Oh. Is this about the dream where
you wished Eric was Steven Tyler?
Hey, do you know who I really love?
- Jesus.
- Well, yes.
But I was going to say Vince Lombardi.
- You're a Packer man?
- Are you kidding? I bleed cheese.
Well, I'm not sure, but I think there
may be a Packer Report on tonight.
Red, I think you might be right.
I think it could start
in eight and a half minutes.
Then what do you say we choke our dinners
down, get our asses on the couch?
Amen!
Red, can you help me
in the kitchen, please?
Right now, please?
Red, this night is not about football.
This night is about company.
And our company wants
to watch the Packer Report.
He spends his life
doing the Lord's work...
and if you would deny
this holy little man...
that simple pleasure...
well, God have mercy
on your soul.
Just can it, Red.
Bring him his food.
You got six minutes.
I'm eating!
- Where is your Band-Aid?
- Oh, I don't know. I had it on a second ago.
Must have come off
while I was serving the...
Done!
Hey, Leo, thanks
for letting us hang out here.
I just... I didn't want to see Donna
after what she wrote.
Forman, no one cares.
That's true, man.
Listen, you guys know
I don't allow alcohol in my house...
so you're just gonna have
to drink sake instead.
"Sake" it to me, Leo.
Don't start with the sake jokes, Fez.
Oh, put a "sake" in it.
Well, this would be fun
if I wasn't so miserable.
Look, Forman,
we're happy to sit here...
and drink these tiny
allegedly alcoholic drinks...
but we don't wanna hear you
bitch about Donna all night.
Oh. Don't worry, Hyde.
I don't feel like talking about Donna.
You see, the thing about Donna is...
Here we go.
She acts like everything's all cool, okay?
And then, all of a sudden...
I'm no Steven Tyler.
Oh, Eric, give it up, for heaven's "sake."
You're still the king, man.
Man, I thought we were past the phase
where we had to impress each other.
You are.
Now you're in the she-dumps-you-
for-a-biker-with-a-wicked-tattoo phase.
The most entertaining of all phases.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God, Hyde! That's it!
A tattoo's dangerous!
There's a place next to the liquor store.
I could go get one right now.
No way, man.
We're not gonna let you go
to some sleazy tattoo parlor...
and spend money for something
you'll regret for the rest of your life.
I'll tattoo you for free, man.
I'm pretty sure
I used to do this for a living.
How cool am I?
A tattoo of my girlfriend's name.
How's that for dangerous?
Yeah, I think Debbie's
really gonna like this.
Wait. Debbie? No. Donna.
Right.
Okay. No problem.
- I can fix it.
- Fix what?
Relax. Debbie will never notice it.
It's Donna.
See, now you moved, man!
It's okay.
I can make that into a flower.
Oh, you know what you should get?
Boobs.
Big boobs on your butt.
That's classy.
Hey, I can turn the B's into boobs.
Wait. What B's?
Like in Debbie, your girlfriend?
It's Donna!
Oh, right.
Oh, I can fix that.
Hey. Jackie.
Hey, Michael.
I'm really glad you're here.
Okay! Time to go to sleep!
Oh, sleep? Whoa!
I thought we were gonna do it.
Michael, I invited you over
for a sleepover...
not a do-it over.
Okay? I told you.
We're gonna wait until we're ready.
So, uh, go to sleep.
No, Jackie, I'm not tired.
But, you know...
I always get tired right after.
Yeah, you don't have to tell me,
Michael.
I know! We'll read out loud. Yeah!
I'll be Nancy Drew,
and you could be her pudgy friend Bess.
Oh, damn it! I'm always Bess.
And then Bart Starr
fakes a handoff to Anderson...
and finds Dowler in the end zone
for the winning touchdown!
Wow, on TV it seemed confusing...
but with peanuts, it's all so clear.
- Can I see you in the kitchen for a minute, please?
- Yeah, just one second.
You go ahead and set 'em up again, and I'll
show you how the Packers won the Ice Bowl.
All right!
Okay, Red, don't you think it's time
your little friend went home?
Kitty, I'm just being sociable,
like you asked.
- Just being a good host.
- Oh, sure.
All good hosts feed
their guests Band-Aids.
Band-Aid, Kitty. Don't exaggerate.
Oh, my God!
Hospital, please.
"And Nancy Drew and Bess
left the police station..."
"and went to celebrate the solving
of the crime with hot fudge sundaes."
The end.
Wow.
Nancy's so smart.
Read another one.
Fine.
Okay, Nancy Drew
and the Mysterious Charming Clock.
"And they celebrated the solving
of the mystery of the clock...
with hot fudge sundaes."
The end.
Guess we solved the mystery
of why Bess was so pudgy.
This isn't going to work, Jackie.
What isn't going to work?
I can't sleep with you staring at me.
Eric, how did you get so hot?
I got a tattoo.
Eric's perfect.
Oh, yeah. Ow.
Ow.
Oh, yeah.
So, are you telling me
that you fed me a Band-Aid?
Well, um, to be honest...
Red fed you the Band-Aid.
How did this happen?
Red, why don't you diagram it
for him with peanuts?
Look, Dave, I'm real sorry.
I didn't realize how sick
a Band-Aid would make you.
Well, thank you
for your belated honesty...
but the doctor said I had food poisoning
from an undercooked sausage.
Food poisoning?
That's Kitty's department.
I have never undercooked
a sausage in my life.
I have a system. It's foolproof.
Hey, Kitty, it's okay.
We all make mistakes.
I...
Vince Lombardi is overrated.
That's right. He is overrated.
Ignore her. She's hysterical.
This isn't going to work, Jackie.
Us, Michael?
Are we not gonna work?
No. The car.
Jackie, the carburetor's busted.
This was all because of a stupid car?
We're gonna have to
take the bus to our wedding.
Our wedding?
Oh, Michael. That is so sweet.
I love you, Michael Kelso.
I love you too, Jackie Onassis.
Eric, what the hell?
Did you just kick my door?
No.
But I got a surprise.
I got a tattoo.
Guess where. On my butt.
Why?
Why?
Because I'm dangerous, lady.
Eric, I want you to be honest with me,
and I promise I won't get mad.
Did you read my journal?
Um, yeah.
You sneaky little dill-hole!
No! You know who's sneaky?
People who go around writing
their feelings in their journals...
and not telling their boyfriends
what they feel.
So, you know what? I'm not sorry.
I'm so sorry.
You want to know how I feel?
Fine. I'll tell you how I feel.
"Today at lunch I was looking at Eric
when he didn't know it...
and I just couldn't believe how much I love
him and how lucky I am to be with him."
- Why couldn't you read that page?
- Because you came back.
Look, Donna...
Look, I'm really sorry, but, you know,
it's just sometimes I get...
worried, you know?
Well, you know what? Suck it up.
Eric, these are my private thoughts,
and I'm allowed to have them.
You have to stop trying to be
what you think I want you to be...
and just, like, be yourself.
- Okay. I think I'm gonna go.
- Well, wait.
Take off your pants.
Really? All right.
No. To show me your tattoo.
- I knew that. Yeah. I knew that.
- Right. Yeah.
I think you're really gonna like it.
Just don't be mad if it says "Debbie."
Woodstock.
It says "Woodstock"?
No, it's a picture
of Snoopy's friend Woodstock.
You have a little yellow bird
on your ass.
If properly executed...
the power sweep is unstoppable.
Oh, Red, this is silly.
I don't wanna run this play again.
Well, we're gonna run it
until we get it right...
because, if properly executed...
the power sweep is unstoppable!
- Hut-one, hut-two.
- Who wants cookies?
- Oh, absolutely.
- Yeah.