The Facts of Life (1979–1988): Season 1, Episode 6 - Emily Dickinson - full transcript

♪ There's a place you gotta go ♪

♪ For learning all you oughta
know about the facts of life ♪

♪ The facts of life ♪

♪ When your books are
what you're there about ♪

♪ But looks are
what you care about ♪

♪ The time is right to
learn the facts of life ♪

♪ When the world never seems ♪

♪ To be living up
to your dreams ♪

♪ It's time you
started finding out ♪

♪ What everything is all about ♪

♪ When the boys you
used to hate you date ♪



♪ I guess you best
investigate the facts of life ♪

♪ You gotta get 'em right ♪

♪ The facts of life ♪

♪♪

♪ The facts of life ♪

♪ The facts of life ♪♪

Boy, doesn't that TV
ever get turned off?

Give us a break, Mr. Bradley.

This is Sunday, and we devote
our evening to the boob tube.

Well, I'm sure you've all finished
your poetry assignments for tomorrow.

Hey, does that poetry assignment
really count for half our grade?

You better believe it.

Girls, I know that some of you think that
poetry is nothing more than flowery words,

but it's not that.



Some of life's great truths
have been echoed by the poets...

Byron, Shelley, Wordsworth.

Tootie! You're gonna
love my poem, Mr. Bradley.

Listen to this.

"How it feels to
make your deals,

eat your meals, cool
your heels, all on wheels."

By Tootie Ramsey.

Well, that's quite
a catchy title.

No, Mr. Bradley,
that's the whole poem.

Then let me give you a title.
How about "Ode to an F-Minus"?

That's okay. I've
got a backup poem.

Hi, gang. Hi, Mrs. Garrett.

- Mr. Bradley.
- Mrs. Garrett, the horizontal's
wobbling again.

I'll give it a shot with
my TV tenderizer.

This is not Hamburger Helper.

This is a sensitive piece
of electronic equipment.

I have been fixing TVs
since I was in high school.

They had TVs back then?

Here's the problem.

Oh, fantastic! Terrific,
Mr. Goodwrench.

Tell me... In high school,
did you also fix fuse boxes?

No. Good. Then we got a chance.

Follow me.

Tootie, give a yell when the
lights come back on. Roger.

Everybody must be asleep.

Good night, Jason. It was... It was a
good rehearsal. The play went very well.

I could use a little bit more
practice on the love scene.

You're a great Juliet.

Uh, good night,
Jason. Thank you.

Whoa. I thought you liked me.

I-I do. I do. But, well, I
have a poem due tomorrow,

and I haven't even started it.

I'm great at poetry.

How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.

I'll count them.
You're too busy.

Has anything turned
on out there, Tootie?

Yeah, but it's not the lights.

Hi.

Blair, what's going on here?

Think hard.
You'll figure it out.

This is Jason Hoss. He's
Romeo, uh, to my Juliet.

- We were just rehearsing.
- Well, rehearsal's over, Romeo.

Well, it's certainly been
a stimulating evening.

Jason.

Oh, right. Right.

Good night, Romeo.

If you ever do... Blair, I know
you have a very busy schedule...

Starring in the school play,
rehearsing with your leading man.

But getting back to the old,
humdrum world of education,

I presume you have completed
your poetry assignment for tomorrow.

Sure. Well, you know...

Just have to put
the polish on it.

Well, I don't care if you
polish it or hot-wax it,

but I want that poem
on my desk tomorrow.

How dare you... Quiet!

Mr. Bradley means it. Do
you really have your poem?

Yes, I... I have my
poem right up here.

I just have to put
it down on paper.

Hmm. Well, you can't
put it down on paper...

until you put this
on a chair up there.

Go on.

Blair, what are you
doing up so late?

I'm writing my poem.

You mean, you
haven't finished it yet?

I haven't even put
on my moisturizer.

Never mind your moisture.
You better write some poetry...

before Bradley hangs
you outside to dry.

Well, I will. First I
have to get inspired.

Should I send for
Jason and his magic lips?

Tootie, you are talking about
the man I may be pinned to.

On second thought, you better
stop dreaming about Jason...

and start thinking
about Bradley.

You're right.

Maybe if I looked at
some poetry it would help.

I just have to get inspired.

"Poems of Emily Dickinson."

She can't be much.

Look at the way
she wears her hair.

Let's see.

"Beauty crowds me till I die.

"Beauty, mercy have on me.

But if I expire today,
let it be in sight of thee."

I don't understand a word
of that. It must be good.

It's a beautiful poem.

You know, she writes the
way I'd write if I had the time.

I'll just change a few lines... you
know, to give it the Blair touch.

Blair, you don't have
to be Nancy Drew...

to figure out that's cheating.

Who's cheating?

I'm just borrowing a poem
from a woman who died in 1886.

I mean, it's not like I'm copying
from the girl in front of me.

Besides, it's only cheating
when someone finds out,

and the only one who
knows are you and me.

Sure. And you're not
gonna tell. Good night.

Tootie, you will keep
my secret, won't you?

You know me.

I sure do. Everything I tell you
goes in one ear and out your mouth.

Blair, don't worry.

I just hope I don't
talk in my sleep.

Exactly what would make
you shut up in your sleep?

Ah, if I weren't under
so much pressure.

All right. What pressure?

Well, I gotta make
my bed every day.

Okay, I'll make your bed.

And clean my room every day.

All right.

And press my uniform. All
right, Tootie, and that's it!

This is too much...
having a white maid.

By the way, Blair, I
like hospital corners.

Good night.

Well, the vertical's fixed.
How's my horizontal?

It's blocking the set.

I guess that's not an insult.
It's only a 19-inch screen.

Oh, Nancy, put on the
football game. Yeah.

Not the Dallas Cowboys.

They exploit women by using
cheerleaders as sex objects.

You won't feel that way when you
have your own set of pom-poms.

Girls, I'm going to
read your poetry grades.

- All right!
- Shh! Hey, you guys,
this is big! Be quiet.

Blair, A-plus.

Sue Ann, C-minus.

Molly, "D." You're kidding!

Cindy, "C." What?

Nancy, "C." "C"?

"C." Natalie, C-minus.

Oh, no. I'm below "C" level.

- And, Tootie...
- Uh, please. Let it be our secret.

Nobody'll look for it here.

How did Blair get an A-plus?

A-plus, Blair! That's wonderful!

But why did the other
girls get such low grades?

- Yeah!
- Well, I marked it on a curve.

I'm just sorry I couldn't give
you more than an A-plus, Blair.

What else could he give
her? A weekend in Bermuda?

Don't you think it's
unfair to lower the

other girls' grades
just because one girl...

wrote a poem that
particularly caught your fancy?

Yeah. Life isn't always fair.

Blair's extraordinarily gifted.
Here. Let me read you a few lines.

"Beauty crowds me till I die.

Beauty, mercy have on me."

The eloquence. The
simplicity. It's you, Blair. It is you.

What an extraordinary
poem. What a nice surprise.

Oh, I'm not surprised.

Mr. Bradley,

don't you think that each poem should
be graded according to its own merit?

I don't see how you can
grade poems on a curve.

Tough darts, Mrs. Garrett.

When the make you headmaster,
you can grade any old way you want.

Until then... ♪
I'll do it my way ♪

Well, if you'll excuse
me, Mr. Bradley,

I promised the girls I'd bake them one
of my famous blueberry cheesecakes.

Oh, good. Oh, good.
That's my favorite.

That's too bad. There
won't be any left for you,

because I'm baking
it on the curve.

After those lousy grades, we need something
to cheer us up. Let's turn on the TV.

Sorry, girls. I am
pulling the plug. What?

So we can start doing
some learning around here.

But we won't be
able to watch TV.

See? You're learning already.

And to help you learn even more,
you'll all do a poem a second time...

Except, of course, Blair.

Mr. Bradley, my
poem wasn't that great.

Blair, I've never seen
you this modest before.

I'm not sure if I can handle it.

Me either. I think
I'm gonna be sick.

All right, girls.
Upstairs. Start writing.

And remember,
poetry is like love.

It's better the
second time around.

But I haven't even had
my first time around.

I broke my back to
write that first poem.

And now I have to write
another one. Thanks, Blair.

So what are you gonna do
now, Miss Emily Dickinson?

What can I do?
If I turn myself in,

Bradley'll kick me
out of the play...

Maybe out of school.

Gee, I'd hate to see you
get kicked out of school.

You have been a gem of a maid.

Oh, by the way, these pleats
aren't as sharp as I like them.

Tootie!

Blair, I forgot the
most important thing.

I couldn't keep
your talent a secret.

I've entered your poem in the
New York State Poetry Festival.

- Y-Y-You didn't!
- Yeah.

Oh, Blair, are you
gonna be famous!

- Hi, everyone.
- Well, look who's here.

If it isn't Elizabeth
Barrett Brownnose.

Nancy, just because you girls have to write
another poem, don't take it out on Blair.

Hot stuff coming!
Hot stuff coming!

And the pizzas are warm too!

All right!

Okay. This is our lucky day.

The pizzas should've been
$12, but the waitress goofed.

So we got all this change.

Oh, no, Tootie, you're gonna
have to take that money back.

We can't exploit a waitress of the
working class. It's a tainted pizza.

No, it's not. It's
mushrooms and anchovies.

I waited tables
when I was younger,

and every time I made a
mistake, it came out of my pocket.

Tootie, do you want that
waitress to be out that money?

You're right, Mrs. Garrett.

Just 'cause she's dumb doesn't
mean she should be broke too.

You're all heart.

Okay, I pronounce
this pizza untainted.

- And cold.
- Oh, I'll warm it up.

I'm going with you.
We don't trust you.

Hey, Blair, what's this? You
suddenly allergic to pizza?

No, I'm just not very hungry.
I didn't sleep well last night.

Oh? Sounds like an
acute case of Jason.

No.

It's that poem Mr. Bradley
entered in the contest.

It isn't mine.

I copied it from
Emily Dickinson.

Oh, Blair.

Sheesh.

Why?

Well... Well, I kept
putting it off, and then...

Then I panicked.

I... I guess it's like...
Kinda like cheating, huh?

It's worse. It's like stealing.

Blair, when you copied that
poem, did you happen to read it?

It's about feeling beautiful.

Hmm. Well, how are
you feeling right now...

in here?

Rotten. Hmm.

And you're saying...

I should tell
Mr. Bradley the truth?

You said it.

Thank you.

Oh, uh, you owe
yourself one more thing.

- What's that?
- A poem.

Right.

- Hi, Blair.
- Jason! What a surprise!

I'm leaving tomorrow
for my college interview,

so I came over for
one more rehearsal.

Mrs. Garrett, Blair.

Uh, Mr. Bradley,
can we have a talk?

Sure.

I have a problem. No, you don't.

I know it's a school night,
but go ahead and rehearse.

Just stay on school
grounds. But, Mr. Bradley...

Blair, don't be such a
goody-goody. Get going.

Mr. Bradley... Thank you.

Quite a girl we've got there.

I wish we had a hundred of her.

One is plenty.

Well, this is it.
Tomorrow I'll be gone.

I know.

Who knows when I'll be
back, or what's in store for me.

Jason, you're going to
college for a crummy interview,

not into combat.

How can you kiss with your
eyes open? Only fish do that.

I'm sorry, Jason.
I'm just not into this.

That's okay. I
am. No, no, no, no.

I feel guilty. Guilty? We
haven't done anything.

Yeah, but I have.

Oh.

Oh, no, no, no. It's not that.

I cheated on my
poetry assignment.

Oh, is that all? Look,
everyone does that.

How do you think I'm
gonna get into Yale?

Come here.

I'm sorry, Jason. I'm sorry.
I've got to write a poem.

I don't believe this.

Have a good time at Yale.

Yeah. Boola, Boola.

I'm glad Bradley gave us a
chance to do a second poem.

This one'll knock his socks off.

I'm trying to write
one about tennis.

What rhymes with Björn Borg?

Who cares? Björn is "gyorgeous."

Blair! I thought you were
rehearsing with Jason.

I was, but...

Well, there's something
I want to tell the girls.

You know that fantastic,
terrific poem I wrote?

- I didn't write it.
- Who did?

Emily Dickinson.

Are you kidding us? You cheated?

Ask Tootie. She was there.

Tootie, you kept a
secret? There is a God.

I'm sorry, you guys. I
feel worse than you do.

Gimme a break. Are we
supposed to feel sorry for you?

You can't go
through life cheating.

If you cheat your way through
school, you're in real trouble.

Unless you go into politics.

Yeah, Blair, why don't
you run for president?

I said I was sorry.

Sure, Blair. Take
care of number one.

What's the difference if the
rest of us got lousy grades?

- That's enough!
- No, that's okay.

I've got it coming.

But I want you to know I
did do one thing, Mrs. Garrett.

I finally wrote a poem.

Ah, I see you're all here.
I've got some terrific news.

I don't think we can handle
any more terrific news.

Mr. Bradley, I have something
very important to tell you.

This is more important. I just
talked to the poetry committee.

Your poem won third prize.

Oh, no! Mr. Bradley,
honest, I don't deserve it.

Frankly, Blair, your modesty
is getting to be a bore.

Mr. Bradley...

First thing we do is
have a Blair Warner Day.

Mr. Bradley... Then we'll take
your picture with the trophy.

Mr. Bradley... Your
mother'll be so proud.

Mr. Bradley!

Blair has something to tell you.

Mr. Bradley, I cheated.

I copied that poem
from Emily Dickinson.

Emily Dickinson? Blair, what
the hell are you talking about?

I didn't mean it.

Yes, I did.

I was shocked too, Mr. Bradley.

How could you do
this to Eastland, to me?

How could you let me go around
praising a poem you never wrote?

- I feel like a complete idiot.
- Mr. Bradley...

- What?
- You're right.

This is a serious offense, and,
yes, she did make a terrible mistake,

but at least she had the
courage enough to admit it.

- That doesn't excuse her.
- I know that,
and she knows that.

But she's written a
poem of her own, and...

Big deal.

Oh, for goodness' sake,
would you listen to her? Please.

All right. I'll listen.

Mrs. Garrett, could
you read it for me?

I... I get too emotional.

Oh. Oh, sure, honey.

"Reflections" by Blair Warner.

"I never thought it possible,
but when I look into the mirror,

"I don't like what I see.

"What I behold is
a tarnished image...

"of a betrayer of friends...

and a cheater of self."

That's eloquent, Blair.

"Where is that
Blair of yesteryear,

"that reflection that
we held so dear?

"Those perfect eyes.
Those pearly teeth.

"That adorable, perky nose.

Those alabaster,
dimpled cheeks."

Blair, I think you're being
too harsh on yourself.

No, no, no. I
deserve it. Go ahead.

Read the part about
the soft, cascading hair.

We get your point, Blair.

Now, understand that your
punishment is going to be very severe.

That's okay. I can take it.

I've gotten all the
guilt out of my system.

And how do you feel?

Beautiful.

Hi. I'm back.

Mr. Bradley? Well?

It's obvious that your
extracurricular activities...

are getting in the way
of your schoolwork.

So you'll have to
withdraw from the play.

And you're grounded for a month.

And, of course, you've
just flunked English Lit.

Flunked?

Boy, Blair, that's really rough.

Here, Blair. This is for
your perky, adorable nose.

Blow.

And that means all of ya.

Blair?

Uh, I'm sorry for what
I've put you through.

But can I still have you for
half the day on Thursday?

♪ When the boys you
used to hate you date ♪

♪ I guess you best investigate ♪

♪ The facts of life
The facts of life ♪

♪ If you hear 'em
from your brother ♪

♪ Better clear 'em
with your mother ♪

♪ Gotta get 'em
right The facts of life ♪

♪ When the world never seems ♪

♪ To be living up
to your dreams ♪

♪ It's time you
started finding out ♪

♪ The facts of
life are all about ♪

♪ You ♪♪