The Adventures of Pete & Pete (1992–1996): Season 1, Episode 7 - When Petes Collide - full transcript

BIG PETE:
What makes someone
your best friend?

I think it's that you laugh
at the same things,

you stand by each other
no matter what,

and sometimes,
when you're together,

you look at each other,
and you just know

everything is perfect.

Some people think
you can't be best friends

with your little brother,
but with us, it's easy.

I guess we just have the same

Pete way of looking at things.

( tires screeching )



Ours was the kind
of best friendship

that seemed like it was built
to last forever.

Hey, how about it?

How was I to know
that a 10-pound bowling ball

was about
to roll into our lives

and destroy everything
we stood for?

Subtitle Rip: uNCeNSoReD

? Hey, smilin' strange ?

? You're lookin'
happily deranged ?

? Can you settle to shoot me ?

? Or have you picked
your target yet? ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Don't you talk back ?



? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?
? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?
? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy, hey. ?

Some say it was just a ball.

But to my dad,
it was a dual-rotating

pressure-torqued hunk
of engineering perfection.

When it hit the slats,

the sound of thunder
shook the lanes,

and so it got the name...

Rolling Thunder.

I think my dad

was more proud
of his bowling ball

than he was of me and Pete.

But then one day,
my dad's fingers

got too big to fit

inside its sacred holes.

He worked out like crazy
to try and get them

back into shape,
but it was no use.

I guess he could have drilled
the holes wider,

but that would have ruined
its delicate calibration.

( man speaking with
an Austrian accent ):

Feel the burn.

Make it burn.

Faster, faster...

Finally, he realized
what he had to do.

The time had come

to pass the ball down
to the next generation.

And that's how it all started.

( thunder crashing )

What if you
could be rich forever,

but you had to go
to the bathroom

through your nose?

Once a day?

Yeah.

I'd do it.

What if you could get
your driver's license now,

but for six months,
you'd have a trout head?

I already got one.

How'd you do that?

DAD:
Hey, Pete, Pete--
come here.

We both wondered
what Dad was doing home

on his bowling night.

But then,
we had an even bigger surprise.

Some say he possessed
the secrets of the universe.

All we knew for sure

was he used to fix dishwashers
for a living.

He was our dad's dad--

our grandfather.

Grandpa!
Ah, boys.

Oh, Grandpa, what's up?
I missed you.

Because he lived so far away,
he only came by once a year.

So, we knew
something big was up.

Your father

has something to tell you.

That is,

after he takes the gum
out of his mouth.

I'm not chewing gum.

Dad was never that happy

to see Grandpa--

I guess 'cause he always
got treated like a kid.

Ugh!
I got to admit,

it was pretty awful to watch.

Oh, man!

Okay, Spunky.

Boys, as you know,

your mother
is the love of my life.

But what you might not know
is I also love another...

...and her name
is Rolling Thunder.

How touching.

And some people say
she's just a ball,

but she's more.

She's a friend, a teacher.

She can pull you out
of the eighth frame doldrums

and smash through pins
like lightning.

But, as you know,
I've outgrown her.

Cut to the chase, Squirmy.

It's a Wrigley tradition

to pass her down
from father to son.

That's why
your grandfather's here--

to assist
in the ceremony.

It's time to give her
to one of you

as she was given
to me.

The question is,

which one of you shall be called
"the chosen one"?

That's okay.

Pete can have it.

Give it to charity.

Are you going to be around

a while, Grandpa?

Looks like
I'll have to be.

Later that night, me and Pete
were having a staring contest.

Pete delivered his deadly
nose flex-lip quiver combo,

outlawed in three states...

( laughing )

...and I was history.

Yes!

That's when we heard it.

( rumbling )

Grandpa!

Grandpa?

I wonder if we can have
a little talk.

Do you know the story
of Rolling Thunder?

It was a gift to my father

from a Tibetan holy man
whose dishwasher I once fixed.

The ball is said
to have certain powers--

power for good
and power for evil.

You don't believe me?

Look.

It has perfect proportions,
and it seems almost weightless.

Try.

( whispering ):
Wow.

Like a feather, no?

It's an engineering miracle.

The power!

The power that can only
be harnessed by a Wrigley.

You hear me?

It must be passed on,

and it must stay in the family.

Good night.

Dad,
I changed my mind.

Can I have the ball?

Too late; it's mine.

I'm the oldest.

I should get it.

I'm prepared
to write you a check.

Uh, no, no.

The one who gets Rolling Thunder
has to prove to me

that he has the qualities
that make a Wrigley a Wrigley.

Things like honor, valor,

courage,
good hygiene...

Translated from Dadspeak,

that meant whoever sucked up
to him the most

would get the ball.

It was humiliating, but...

I'll do that.

Wait. No, let me.

And so, the battle
for the ball had begun.

Dad had been after me
to clean the garage

since I was five.

So, I figured
the ball was practically mine.

But while I was sweeping it up,
Dad was soaking it up.

Pete had made
a Technicolor tribute to...

DEEP-VOICED NARRATOR:
Dad-- a man of vision.

Dad-- a man of strength.

Yes, few mortal men have

the coordination,
the determination,

and the overall niceness of Dad.

Aw, Pete.

It was going
to be a long battle.

Well, good night... buddy.

Sleep tight, pal.

( thunder crashing )

I guess Artie could feel

the disturbance
in the cosmic wind,

'cause the next morning,
the strongest man in the world

had his Port-a-Home
parked on our lawn

and stood vigilant watch

over our house.

Meanwhile,
with his father around,

Dad was subject
to surprise inspections

and the loss of his hard-earned
adult privileges.

Temper.

Pete and I had done more

sucking up in two days
than we had in our entire lives.

The fact was,
we were still tied.

It was time for one of us
to try something big.

That night, I was coming home
five minutes after bedtime,

when suddenly...

( alarm blaring )

( siren wailing
and dogs barking )

...I was busted.

Pete had nabbed me
in a violation

of House Ordinance Number 215.

So much
for our friendly contest.

That's how you want to play it?

This is war!

Honest Abe Lincoln once said,

"A house divided against itself
cannot stand."

I'll bet his dad
was a bowler, too.

It's hard to believe
that our friendship was ending

over a piece of molten rock,

but the battle lines
were drawn.

Pete took his half of the bunk
and moved to the basement.

We were no longer talking.

Any messages we had,
we sent through Ellen.

We even had a system

so we didn't have to see
each other at meals.

( buzzing )

( alarm blaring )

Don, you have got to
put a stop to this.

It's gone too far.

Maybe she's right, Dad.

Maybe she is.

And maybe she isn't.

Even with Artie
guarding the house,

the whole thing
felt out of control.

Careful, boy, careful.

There are unfavorable omens
in the air.

You finish painting
your dad's room yet?

I couldn't.

Pete wallpapered
it last night

and put down carpeting.

Ellen, this is insane.

We haven't talked
in... in two weeks.

We've never gone that
long without talking.

War is ugly, Pete.

But he's my best friend.

I feel funny saying this,

but maybe your best friendship
wasn't meant to last forever.

Friends do
grow apart sometimes.

And you are
four years older.

Think about it.

You're brothers.

How many brothers do you know
who are best friends?

And so, the war raged on.
( thunder crashing )

My brother--
one of the greatest

natural generals ever born--
began a full frontal assault.

DEEP VOICE:
Pete says he's responsible,

but last year,
he broke the hall vase.

Pete says he loves his parents,

but he didn't buy
their anniversary card.

He just signed it.

And for the algebra final,
Pete had to borrow notes.

You need someone you can trust
with your bowling ball.

Give it to Pete--
he deserves it.

If I was going to win,

I'd have to beat him
at his own game.

Issue one:
Dad's bowling ball.

Who deserves
the celebrated sphere?

Item: Young Pete toppled
the Asian bond market.

Item:
Young Pete's science project

caused spontaneous baldness
across the Texas panhandle.

Item: Young Pete accidentally
drained Lake Superior.

His response?

No comment, grunge bag!

"No comment, grunge bag"?

Not good enough.

Exit question:
Who gets the ball?

Young Pete? Wrong.

Answer: Older Pete.

Bye-bye.

Mom had had enough.

She wasn't going to let
our family fall apart

over a bowling ball.

( humming joyfully )

( sneezes )

( thunder rumbling )

Honey, uh,

something wrong?

See, my mom had
a metal plate in her head

from an accident she had
when she was a kid.

And they both knew

it would attract every
lightning bolt for miles.

Come inside right now!

Not until you stop this war.

( stammering ):
I-I-I can't.

He won't let me.

If you don't stand up
to your father,

I'm gonna blow myself
to kingdom come.

Dad had no choice.

Maybe he didn't have the guts
to face his dad,

but he got another idea.

Later that night,

he snuck Rolling Thunder
from the house

and ran four hours
to the Canadian border.

( panting )

Go on.

What are you waiting for?

You're free.

Don't look at me like that.

( sobbing )

Dad, it's gone!

You took it!

Bite my neck hair.

Maybe it was stolen.

I-I thought I heard
a noise last night.

Spunky...

Hmm?

Have you done something?

No.

Uh-uh, I know that look.

You've done something.

Tell Papa.

What difference
does it make?

It's gone.

Now we can get back to normal.

But we all knew things
would never be normal again.

And that's when we heard it.

( rumbling )

Rolling Thunder.

Oh. Oh.

No one knew how it got back,
but one thing was certain:

we had to settle this thing
once and for all.

Sometimes the only way
to stop a war

is to fight
the bloodiest battle ever,

a battle so gruesome,

there can only be
one undisputed winner.

Me and Pete were gonna stare.

ELLEN:
And one, and two.

And one, and two.

BIG PETE:
Not only were the stakes higher

than any other
staring contest...

( laughs )

...but the only way to lose
was to smile.

And neither of us
felt like smiling.

Must destroy.

Must destroy Pete.

Artie understood
the contest could go on

for weeks, even years,

so he decided to come
to our rescue.

You know what I've come for,
Grandpuppy!

The ball!

The ball!

Out with it, old man.

You'll be sorry.

( grunts )

Disrupter of families!

Gutter lover!

Blue legless dog ball!

Take this.

( grunting )

( yells )

Oh, beast!

Ow!

( grunting )

( groans )

The battle went on for hours.

The ball was the fiercest foe
Artie had ever tangled with.

( grunting )

And in the end...

the strong man went down.

Foolish man.

Brave, but foolish.

( rattled breaths )

With Artie defeated,
nothing could stop us

from the madness
of the final showdown.

Two Petes would enter
that room.

Only one would come out.

It's not too late to stop.

Quit stalling, chunderhead.

Make me laugh.

And so it began.
( thunder crashing )

At first, we just stood there

probing each other
for weaknesses.

Then suddenly...

Pete attacked with a barrage

of face twitches
and tongue swirls

that normally would have
obliterated me.

But I was ready
and came right back

with the Wisconsin ear wiggle

I'd picked up last summer
in Sheboygan.

I caught him off guard,
but he didn't crack a smile.

The battle was raging.

( monster sucking )

( oinking )

Meanwhile, my dad
was fighting his own battle.

It started when Grandpa
brought out cookies and milk.

Maybe we should go up there.

No! I forbid it.

The ball must be passed on.

Nothing can stop it.

Drink that.

It's milk.

The contest slogged on
for hour after brutal hour.

The way it was going,

maybe it would last
the rest of our lives.

It was insane.

It was inhuman.

Without warning,

both of us unleashed
everything we had.

( monster sucking )

( oinking )

A-ruh-bah! A-ruh-bah!

Oink, oink.

While we faced off
against each other,

Dad finally got up the nerve
to face off against his dad.

Who ate all the cookies?

You know what sugar
does to your teeth.

Come on, out with it.
Who did it?

You want to know
who ate the cookies?

You want to know?

I'll tell you.

I ate the cookies!

And you want
to know what else?

I didn't finish my milk.

What do you think of that?

Spunky...

My name is not Spunky.

My name is... Dad.

This is my house, and my wife,

and my kids,

and that ball is out of here.

This war is over!

But it wasn't.

Me and Pete were locked
in a death stare

that nothing could break.

As the intensity increased,
I started to hallucinate.

And I know he was going through
the same thing.

Pete! Pete!
Pete! Pete!

Open the door.
Open the door.

I didn't know how much longer
we could take it.

But then something happened.

I was able to see Pete again
for what he really was.

And I realized
after all those hours,

I wasn't staring at my enemy.

I was staring
at my best friend.

I guess Pete felt the same way.

And finally, the sheer
stupidity of what we were doing

got to us.

( both laughing )

( laughing )

( sighs )

The battle for the ball
was over.

( both laughing )

I, uh...

I was wrong

to interfere
with your family.

And, Spunk... um, Dad...

...I'm afraid I used
the power of the ball

for evil instead of good.

Well, I don't know
about that, Dad.

It did have the power to show
you that your son had grown up.

And maybe you'd like
to stay around a while

and get to know him.
Huh?

Soon after that, things
pretty much got back to normal.

Pete moved back in,

and somehow our bed
was stronger than ever.

Dad was free to avail himself

of all the privileges
of adulthood,

including drinking
non-milk beverages.

And as for Rolling Thunder...

now that no one
desired it anymore,

it had lost most
of its evil power.

Even so, we didn't
want to take any chances.

So after Grandpa taught
Artie how to toss it

with the sacred Tibetan
Power Jam,

it was time to say good-bye.

( laughing )

Puppy!

Off with you,
you pesky pinbully.

We never knew where
Rolling Thunder went

or if it would ever come back.

But one thing was certain,
we had learned our lesson.

And next time,
if it ever returned,

we'd be ready.