The Nanny (1993–1999): Season 1, Episode 19 - The Gym Teacher - full transcript
Maggie continually feigns illness to get out of gym class, this term the class focusing on gymnastics with tough Mrs. Stone of who Maggie is scared. Fran encourages Maggie to face her fears, but supports Maggie in feigning illness since this situation reminds Fran and Val of their high school gymnastics teacher, Miss Wickervich, and the fear they felt. Little does Fran realize that Mrs. Stone and Miss Wickervich are one and the same. Mrs. Stone recognizes Fran as the wimpy gym student she was. Because of Maggie's association with Fran, Mrs. Stone threatens to fail Maggie in gym if she does not perform well in the midterm exam the following week. Maggie is ill prepared, and Fran's coaching for the midterm amuses Mrs. Stone. But Maggie and Fran face Mrs. Stone and the exam with determination. Meanwhile, Maxwell is facing a similar problem when he hires Alan Beck to star in his latest show. Twenty years prior, Maxwell was in constant fear when he worked as Beck's assistant.
That salesclerk was so rude.
Oh, I know.
You ask to try on
20 pairs of shoes,
and right away,
they get an attitude.
Hi, Fran.
Oh, Maggie.
What are you doing home
so early? Are you sick?
Oh, I better not catch anything.
I got unemployment tomorrow.
Oh, honey, I feel terrible.
Here I was out shopping,
and you were home sick
with no one to take care of you.
I beg your pardon.
I'm perfectly capable
of taking care of Miss Margaret.
Actually, I'm not really sick.
It's only, you know...
My monthly friend.
She's all yours.
I don't get it.
What's going on here?
Val, what comes
at the end of a sentence?
A parole?
You might have noticed
that "Val" is not short
for "valedictorian."
Now, come on.
What gives?
You've had your period
four times this month.
So?
So women don't get
their period every week.
If they did,
all the men in the world
would be institutionalized.
Which wouldn't necessarily
affect my social life.
Now, what gives?
You're not having problems
with your boyfriend,
you're not failing
any classes...
Ah, you're trying
to get out of gym.
Oh, I have gymnastics
this semester.
Oh, the worst!
Oh, the horse, the bars,
the rope.
Oh, I hated the rope.
To this day, I can't even
look at an extension cord.
Thank God, you know how I feel.
Mm-hm.
So you'll let me stay home?
No.
Honey, every once in a while,
you got to pull up
those gym shorts,
lace up those high-tops,
and face your fears.
Or you could do what Fran did.
Write phony notes.
Val, turn your
head
sideways a sec.
Did you know you can see
clear through your ears?
This is a completely
different situation.
She doesn't have
our gym teacher.
You know, after World War II,
a lot of Nazis
fled down to South America.
She came to P.S. 19.
♪♪ She was working
In a bridal shop ♪♪
♪♪ In Flushing, Queens ♪♪
♪♪ Till her boyfriend
Kicked her out ♪♪
♪♪ In one
Of those crushing scenes ♪♪
♪♪ What was she to do?
Where was she to go? ♪♪
♪♪ She was out on her fanny ♪♪
♪♪ So over the bridge
From Flushing ♪♪
♪♪ To the Sheffields' door ♪♪
♪♪ She was there to sell makeup
But the father saw more ♪♪
♪♪ She had style, she had flair
She was there ♪♪
♪♪ That's how she became
The nanny ♪♪
♪♪ Who would have guessed
That the girl we described ♪♪
♪♪ Was just exactly
What the doctor prescribed? ♪♪
♪♪ Now the father
Finds her beguiling ♪♪
♪♪ Watch out, C.C. ♪♪
♪♪ And the kids
Are actually smiling ♪♪
♪♪ Such joie de vivre ♪♪
♪♪ She's the lady in red ♪♪
♪♪ When everybody else
Is wearing tan ♪♪
♪♪ The flashy girl
From Flushing ♪♪
♪♪ The nanny named Fran ♪♪
No, Maggie.
I am not writing you
a phony excuse.
Oh, come on, Fran.
My gym teacher hates me.
She goes out of her way
to make me look stupid.
There's a tough job.
Shut up, Brighton.
Come on, Fran, please.
Just till gymnastics is over.
You've got to get me
through till volleyball.
No. I'm a nanny now.
I took an oath.
Fran, she won't even let
me
wear makeup in class.
Oh, she's got to be stopped.
Well, all right.
But only because I
know
what it's like
to be a pathetic klutz.
Oh, I knew you'd understand.
All right. Let's use one
of my favorite excuses,
and I hope one of
yours,
a hammertoe.
A hammertoe?
Uh-huh.
What's that?
It's a cruel, crippling disease
caused by shoving your feet
into high heels
that are too small.
And if you don't think
that sounds painful,
just ask my Uncle Harvey.
No, it won't
work.
It has to be
something undetectable.
Something she can't see.
Then it should
have something to do
with your chest.
Shut up, you little troll.
How about severe depression
brought on
by feelings of inadequacy
and the fear of death?
Gracie, where do you
come up with these things?
Usually during hopscotch.
Miss Fine, I'd like
next Friday off.
Could you write Mr. Sheffield
a note for me?
I think I'd like
an attractive disease.
Perhaps something
that requires an eye patch.
Uh, Niles, would this
happen to be
your not-so-subtle way
of saying you disapprove of me?
Not at all.
I delight
in each and every antic.
Just think of me
as one of those
people
who slows down on the highway
to view the wreck,
and then goes on his merry way.
You know, Mags, now,
I could be wrong here,
but I think Dad
would be pretty
upset
if he found out about
this whole note thing.
How's he gonna find out?
I'm gonna tell him...
unless you and I can cut a deal.
Listen, you maggot, you breathe
one word of this to Dad,
and I'll pull your tongue out
through your zipper.
I do believe we have a deal.
Niles, please.
I'm trying to work.
As opposed to what I'm doing,
which is a hobby?
You wanted to see me,
Mr. Sheffield?
Oh, yes, Miss Fine.
I got the strangest call today
from Maggie's school.
Oh, look.
Traffic's backing up.
I wonder what's ahead.
Do you know anything
about her having
a heart murmur?
Heart murmur...
Heart murmur...
Murmur of the heart...
No. No. I, uh...
Doesn't ring a
bell.
It seems she's been
feigning illness
to get out of gym class.
Oh, it's a massive pileup.
You wouldn't happen to know
anything about that,
would you, Miss Fine?
They're going to need
the Jaws of Life for this one.
Oh, Miss Babcock.
Miss Babcock,
it's so nice to see you.
You know, we've got to spend
more time with each other.
Ah, that little
rubber
band in your head
finally snapped.
Maxwell, I have wonderful news.
I think I have solved
our casting problem.
What about Alan Beck
to play the lead?
Oh, Alan Beck?
I love him.
No, I don't think so.
Why would I lie?
Maxwell, Alan Beck
is a living legend.
He's won two Academy Awards.
He just won a Tony.
And next, he's
going
to Disneyland.
Miss Fine, please?
Alan Beck is a demon.
When I first started
in the theater,
I worked as his gofer.
He treated me like dirt.
Oh, he can't be that bad.
One time, I forgot
to put lemon in his tea.
He set me on fire.
Well, there are two sides
to every story.
What's the other side to that?
I was a 20-year-old boy
set ablaze by a madman.
Well, you're not
a 20-year-old boy anymore.
You're a bigmacher
Yes, but I'm still flammable.
I think I'm at that
point
in my career
where I can choose
who I work with.
Alan Beck's name on a marquee
can presell a six-month run.
I choose him.
Oh, Mr. Sheffield,
this is a very big
decision you've
made.
You know, it's just
like
I was telling
Maggie.
You've got
to confront your
fears.
Maggie. That's right.
Now, what's this about
her cutting gym class?
Just when the roadway
had finally cleared...
Some idiot swerved
into oncoming traffic.
Uh, Mr. Sheffield,
don't worry about Maggie.
I'll take care of her.
You just get
yourself
flame retarded.
And you, keep it
moving.
Keep it moving.
There's nothing to see here.
Oh, wow.
Does this bring back memories.
Bad memories.
Oh, the rings.
Good old rings.
I have no use for rings
unless someone's
putting one on my finger.
This was my event.
What'd you do on that?
Uh, never mind.
Fran, I'm dead.
What are we gonna say?
Well, we'll just
tell her the truth.
That your pacemaker's
working perfectly.
Oh, God.
It's not gonna
work.
Coach Stone is gonna torture me
this whole semester.
Oh, honey,
you're making a big
deal
over what lasts a grand
total
of four minutes.
What are you talking about?
Gym class lasts 45 minutes.
Listen and learn.
First, you gotta get dressed.
Take your time.
You're not a
fireman.
Now you volunteer
to get the
equipment,
which is very heavy,
so you pull
something.
It could be a sideache,
a charley horse, a
hernia,
depending on how much time
you need...
12 minutes. God, I was good.
What are we down to?
Uh, 20 minutes.
All right, just enough time
to look for your contact.
Fran, you don't wear contacts.
Exactly. Do you
know
how long it takes
to find a contact
that doesn't
exist?
16 minutes, which brings us down
to a grand
total
of four
minutes.
Anyone could get
through
four minutes of gym,
even if you had my old teacher,
Miss Wickervitch.
We called her
"the Wickervitch of the West."
Oh...
Hello, Fine.
Miss Wickervitch.
Long time no see.
Your old gym teacher's
my gym teacher?
Small world.
Ow! Nobody move.
I think I lost my contact.
Well, Fine, I see
you've recovered
from the series of ailments
that plagued you
as a teenager, huh?
Well, I still got
some of the old
shouldermishegaas,
you know, when it's damp.
Meanwhile, you look fabulous.
Why'd you change your name?
I got married.
To a man?
So you're married and I'm not?
How could this be?
I'll tell you
how.
You're soft.
- Ow.
- You were soft then,
and you're soft now.
And you're raising soft children
with heart murmurs.
Is any of this gonna affect
my grade?
Oh, you bet your soft,
squishy little butt.
If you don't pass those midterms
next week,
your grade is an F.
But that's not fair.
Oh, life is not fair.
Ask the old maid.
Don't worry, Maggie.
You're gonna pass that test,
because I'm gonna coach you.
You?!
Oh, that's so rich.
You're like a French poodle.
They're all poofy and perfect.
But wet 'em down,
and what do you
got?
A wet poodle?
A wet poodle?
I'm gonna make her suffer.
I'm gonna torture you so bad,
you are going to beg me
to kill you.
You know, marriage
has mellowed her.
Where the hell is Alan Beck?
First day of rehearsals,
and we're already
two hours behind.
Everybody out!
There's a bomb threat.
We're threatening to open
with this bomb.
No explosion.
It's worse than a bomb.
It's a dud.
Who are you?
Maxwell Sheffield.
You look familiar.
Yeah, well...
We, uh, worked together
some time ago in London.
I was your assistant.
Good.
Get me some coffee.
Actually, I'm the producer now.
With cream.
Who are you, blondie?
I'm C.C. Babcock.
I'm Mr. Sheffield's
business associate.
Yeah, I got a slew of those
myself,
but I got Thursday open.
I'll be in my
dressing room, Sheffield.
Oh, Mr. Sheffield...
Whoa!
And who is this lovely creature?
Put Thursday on hold, blondie.
Oh, Alan
Beck!
I just love
you!
Well, we have a lot in common.
You must be my leading lady.
Oh, no.
I'm Fran Fine, the nanny.
Some nanny.
You know, there's a little boy
inside me.
Want to raise him?
Well, what's the problem?
I think he's very charming.
Well, thank you
for your professional
opinion, Miss Fine.
So how did your meeting
with Maggie's
gym teacher go?
Oh, great.
I talked her
into
giving Maggie a make-up test.
I'll need
a credit
card.
Oh, yeah.
Wait. Wait a minute.
Do you intend
to bribe her?
No! But only because
I didn't think of it first.
So...
New exercise outfits.
My grandpa always said,
"you must
look your
best."
He insisted on being
buried in a tuxedo.
Unfortunately,
it was a rental,
which could be the
reason
for my family's
horrible credit
rating.
Sheffield!
Oh, God. What now,
more coffee?
I've been rethinking act two.
It's a downer.
You got my character
in a wheelchair.
What woman in the audience
is gonna believe
that Alan Beck is paralyzed
from the waist down?
Alan, you're playing
Franklin Delano
Roosevelt.
The man was a paraplegic.
Find a cure.
You call that
a back handspring layout?
Shape up!
I've seen better
routines
in Gymboree...
you Mary Lou Rotten.
Well, look who's
here,
Olga and Nadia.
Have a good practice, girls.
I have to get home to dinner.
A romantic dinner...
with my husband.
You know what that's like,
don't you, Fran?
Oh, that's right.
You don't.
Oh, forget her.
We'll show her.
Are you ready?
I'm ready.
Are you really ready?
I'm really ready.
I can't hear you, Sheffield!
I'm really ready!
All right!
Then let's go!
Oh!
Oh!
Tea time.
Are we feeling any better?
Do I look like I'm
feeling any better?
A woman with
an electrical appliance
around her neck
and her feet in water
should remember
who her friends are.
Ow!
Oh!
Oy!
Listen to me. I sound like
a kvetchy Cathy doll.
God, I hate dealing with actors.
They ruin the theater.
May I get you something, sir?
Scotch and soda?
Gin and tonic? Martini?
Yes.
I wonder if Flo Ziegfeld
had all these problems?
I think his problems started
when they named him
"Flo."
Oh, good.
I haven't missed happy hour.
Oh.
That Alan Beck'll
be the death of me yet.
He insists on playing F.D.R.
as a swashbuckling paraplegic
who leaps
out of his wheelchair at will
screaming, "It's a miracle!"
Well, if you want him
to stay in his chair,
I know someone
that could break his legs.
Ow!
And she wears sneakers,
so he'll never hear her coming.
I take it all is not well
in the Olympic village?
Who would have thought
that we'd both be facing
demons from our past?
I can't believe I'd hire
a pyromaniacal sociopath.
Yeah, well,
that was pretty stupid.
Mine was just a coincidence.
Oh, come on, Miss Fine.
Why don't you just
stand up to her?
You're not
in high school anymore.
You're a big macher
Oh, no. Here.
Thank you.
Why don't you take some
of your own advice?
I mean, if the guy's
making you miserable,
why don't you just
stand up to him?
Because he'll quit...
And he's brilliant.
Nah. The worst
that'll happen
is he'll set you on fire again.
How many times can he do that
before it gets old?
Thank you, Miss Fine.
Ow!
Oh!
Oh!
Ah!
Can't you just say hello
like a normal person?
I've been
looking forward to
this
for quite some time.
What's with you?
What, do you like
to see young girls suffer?
Oh, yeah.
Especially if they cry.
Okay, Sheffield.
I set up five stations for you.
Each of them is worth 20 points.
Start with the ropes.
The ropes?
No, not the ropes.
Anything but the ropes.
Honey, go out there,
hold your head up high,
don't forget to breathe,
and above all,
watch for your
nails.
[THEME FROMROCKY
Oops!
Ooh!
Oh!
Whoa! Oh!
Ah!
She stinks.
Well, it's better to
have tried and stunk
than never to have stunk at all.
Look, she has been
working her butt off.
I think that she deserves
something for it.
I'm gonna give her something.
An F.
I love my job.
What kind of a teacher
are you, anyway?
Teachers are supposed
to educate, not intimidate.
What's the matter,
cat got your tongue?
You're choking?
Why didn't you tell me
you were choking?
This is the international sign
for choking.
Well, now I know.
All right. Okay. Focus.
Oh, Mrs. Stone,
are you okay?
Oh...
Oh, you saved my life.
You saved my life?
Well, I might not
have passed gym,
but lucky for you,
I passed the Heimlich poster
every Sunday at Fung Lum's
Chinese restaurant.
So, how'd I do?
Oh, you did great, honey.
You got an A. Right?
Right.
Really?
Oh, because I felt like
I was really on.
Forty-eight, no matinees.
My understudy's good enough
for the blue-haired ladies.
Forty-nine,
I want a personal trainer.
Young, dumb, stacked.
And 50,
I want...
I want this.
Alan, uh, before you go,
I have a couple of demands
of my own.
Oh, really?
Yeah.
From now on,
I'll give the orders
around here,
and you will conduct yourself
in a professional manner.
Or?
Or...
Or you're fired.
You're bluffing.
Try me.
Come on, Sheffield.
You know as well as I know
that no one can play this role
as well as Alan Beck.
I am F.D.R.
December 7, 1941,
a date that will live in infamy.
The only thing we have to fear
is fear itself.
- Oh, Mr.
- Sheffield.
Anthony Hopkins called again,
and he wants to know
whether he should
bring his own wheelchair.
The guy's such a pest.
But a lovely man.
Whatever Tony wants
is just fine.
Ah.
You know, Sheffield,
I've been thinking.
Maybe some of my demands
might be negotiable.
Some of your demands?
All right, all of them.
But I'm keeping this.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Uh, Miss Babcock
has your checks.
You were great.
Thank you.
Very believable.
Anthony Hopkins, Miss Fine?
A nice touch.
My acting was pretty good,
huh, Mr. Sheffield?
Maybe I should play
Eleanor Roosevelt.
I know all her lines.
"Ah, look at all
the lonely
people."
That was Eleanor Rigby.
Oh.
Don't quit your day job.
Oh, I won't.
Look at the class of '82.
Mm, mm, mm.
What a bunch of losers.
Look at your hair, Fine.
Oh, that was
the Farrah Fawcett look.
Wait a minute.
Is that Daniel Pirialli
with his arm around you?
Yeah, he was my boyfriend.
Oh. A boy like
that
will kill your
brother.
No. He's not
that bad.
Sometimes I still wonder.
Forget that boy
and find
another.
- Who?
- One of your own kind.
Stick to your own kind.
Oh, I know.
You ask to try on
20 pairs of shoes,
and right away,
they get an attitude.
Hi, Fran.
Oh, Maggie.
What are you doing home
so early? Are you sick?
Oh, I better not catch anything.
I got unemployment tomorrow.
Oh, honey, I feel terrible.
Here I was out shopping,
and you were home sick
with no one to take care of you.
I beg your pardon.
I'm perfectly capable
of taking care of Miss Margaret.
Actually, I'm not really sick.
It's only, you know...
My monthly friend.
She's all yours.
I don't get it.
What's going on here?
Val, what comes
at the end of a sentence?
A parole?
You might have noticed
that "Val" is not short
for "valedictorian."
Now, come on.
What gives?
You've had your period
four times this month.
So?
So women don't get
their period every week.
If they did,
all the men in the world
would be institutionalized.
Which wouldn't necessarily
affect my social life.
Now, what gives?
You're not having problems
with your boyfriend,
you're not failing
any classes...
Ah, you're trying
to get out of gym.
Oh, I have gymnastics
this semester.
Oh, the worst!
Oh, the horse, the bars,
the rope.
Oh, I hated the rope.
To this day, I can't even
look at an extension cord.
Thank God, you know how I feel.
Mm-hm.
So you'll let me stay home?
No.
Honey, every once in a while,
you got to pull up
those gym shorts,
lace up those high-tops,
and face your fears.
Or you could do what Fran did.
Write phony notes.
Val, turn your
head
sideways a sec.
Did you know you can see
clear through your ears?
This is a completely
different situation.
She doesn't have
our gym teacher.
You know, after World War II,
a lot of Nazis
fled down to South America.
She came to P.S. 19.
♪♪ She was working
In a bridal shop ♪♪
♪♪ In Flushing, Queens ♪♪
♪♪ Till her boyfriend
Kicked her out ♪♪
♪♪ In one
Of those crushing scenes ♪♪
♪♪ What was she to do?
Where was she to go? ♪♪
♪♪ She was out on her fanny ♪♪
♪♪ So over the bridge
From Flushing ♪♪
♪♪ To the Sheffields' door ♪♪
♪♪ She was there to sell makeup
But the father saw more ♪♪
♪♪ She had style, she had flair
She was there ♪♪
♪♪ That's how she became
The nanny ♪♪
♪♪ Who would have guessed
That the girl we described ♪♪
♪♪ Was just exactly
What the doctor prescribed? ♪♪
♪♪ Now the father
Finds her beguiling ♪♪
♪♪ Watch out, C.C. ♪♪
♪♪ And the kids
Are actually smiling ♪♪
♪♪ Such joie de vivre ♪♪
♪♪ She's the lady in red ♪♪
♪♪ When everybody else
Is wearing tan ♪♪
♪♪ The flashy girl
From Flushing ♪♪
♪♪ The nanny named Fran ♪♪
No, Maggie.
I am not writing you
a phony excuse.
Oh, come on, Fran.
My gym teacher hates me.
She goes out of her way
to make me look stupid.
There's a tough job.
Shut up, Brighton.
Come on, Fran, please.
Just till gymnastics is over.
You've got to get me
through till volleyball.
No. I'm a nanny now.
I took an oath.
Fran, she won't even let
me
wear makeup in class.
Oh, she's got to be stopped.
Well, all right.
But only because I
know
what it's like
to be a pathetic klutz.
Oh, I knew you'd understand.
All right. Let's use one
of my favorite excuses,
and I hope one of
yours,
a hammertoe.
A hammertoe?
Uh-huh.
What's that?
It's a cruel, crippling disease
caused by shoving your feet
into high heels
that are too small.
And if you don't think
that sounds painful,
just ask my Uncle Harvey.
No, it won't
work.
It has to be
something undetectable.
Something she can't see.
Then it should
have something to do
with your chest.
Shut up, you little troll.
How about severe depression
brought on
by feelings of inadequacy
and the fear of death?
Gracie, where do you
come up with these things?
Usually during hopscotch.
Miss Fine, I'd like
next Friday off.
Could you write Mr. Sheffield
a note for me?
I think I'd like
an attractive disease.
Perhaps something
that requires an eye patch.
Uh, Niles, would this
happen to be
your not-so-subtle way
of saying you disapprove of me?
Not at all.
I delight
in each and every antic.
Just think of me
as one of those
people
who slows down on the highway
to view the wreck,
and then goes on his merry way.
You know, Mags, now,
I could be wrong here,
but I think Dad
would be pretty
upset
if he found out about
this whole note thing.
How's he gonna find out?
I'm gonna tell him...
unless you and I can cut a deal.
Listen, you maggot, you breathe
one word of this to Dad,
and I'll pull your tongue out
through your zipper.
I do believe we have a deal.
Niles, please.
I'm trying to work.
As opposed to what I'm doing,
which is a hobby?
You wanted to see me,
Mr. Sheffield?
Oh, yes, Miss Fine.
I got the strangest call today
from Maggie's school.
Oh, look.
Traffic's backing up.
I wonder what's ahead.
Do you know anything
about her having
a heart murmur?
Heart murmur...
Heart murmur...
Murmur of the heart...
No. No. I, uh...
Doesn't ring a
bell.
It seems she's been
feigning illness
to get out of gym class.
Oh, it's a massive pileup.
You wouldn't happen to know
anything about that,
would you, Miss Fine?
They're going to need
the Jaws of Life for this one.
Oh, Miss Babcock.
Miss Babcock,
it's so nice to see you.
You know, we've got to spend
more time with each other.
Ah, that little
rubber
band in your head
finally snapped.
Maxwell, I have wonderful news.
I think I have solved
our casting problem.
What about Alan Beck
to play the lead?
Oh, Alan Beck?
I love him.
No, I don't think so.
Why would I lie?
Maxwell, Alan Beck
is a living legend.
He's won two Academy Awards.
He just won a Tony.
And next, he's
going
to Disneyland.
Miss Fine, please?
Alan Beck is a demon.
When I first started
in the theater,
I worked as his gofer.
He treated me like dirt.
Oh, he can't be that bad.
One time, I forgot
to put lemon in his tea.
He set me on fire.
Well, there are two sides
to every story.
What's the other side to that?
I was a 20-year-old boy
set ablaze by a madman.
Well, you're not
a 20-year-old boy anymore.
You're a bigmacher
Yes, but I'm still flammable.
I think I'm at that
point
in my career
where I can choose
who I work with.
Alan Beck's name on a marquee
can presell a six-month run.
I choose him.
Oh, Mr. Sheffield,
this is a very big
decision you've
made.
You know, it's just
like
I was telling
Maggie.
You've got
to confront your
fears.
Maggie. That's right.
Now, what's this about
her cutting gym class?
Just when the roadway
had finally cleared...
Some idiot swerved
into oncoming traffic.
Uh, Mr. Sheffield,
don't worry about Maggie.
I'll take care of her.
You just get
yourself
flame retarded.
And you, keep it
moving.
Keep it moving.
There's nothing to see here.
Oh, wow.
Does this bring back memories.
Bad memories.
Oh, the rings.
Good old rings.
I have no use for rings
unless someone's
putting one on my finger.
This was my event.
What'd you do on that?
Uh, never mind.
Fran, I'm dead.
What are we gonna say?
Well, we'll just
tell her the truth.
That your pacemaker's
working perfectly.
Oh, God.
It's not gonna
work.
Coach Stone is gonna torture me
this whole semester.
Oh, honey,
you're making a big
deal
over what lasts a grand
total
of four minutes.
What are you talking about?
Gym class lasts 45 minutes.
Listen and learn.
First, you gotta get dressed.
Take your time.
You're not a
fireman.
Now you volunteer
to get the
equipment,
which is very heavy,
so you pull
something.
It could be a sideache,
a charley horse, a
hernia,
depending on how much time
you need...
12 minutes. God, I was good.
What are we down to?
Uh, 20 minutes.
All right, just enough time
to look for your contact.
Fran, you don't wear contacts.
Exactly. Do you
know
how long it takes
to find a contact
that doesn't
exist?
16 minutes, which brings us down
to a grand
total
of four
minutes.
Anyone could get
through
four minutes of gym,
even if you had my old teacher,
Miss Wickervitch.
We called her
"the Wickervitch of the West."
Oh...
Hello, Fine.
Miss Wickervitch.
Long time no see.
Your old gym teacher's
my gym teacher?
Small world.
Ow! Nobody move.
I think I lost my contact.
Well, Fine, I see
you've recovered
from the series of ailments
that plagued you
as a teenager, huh?
Well, I still got
some of the old
shouldermishegaas,
you know, when it's damp.
Meanwhile, you look fabulous.
Why'd you change your name?
I got married.
To a man?
So you're married and I'm not?
How could this be?
I'll tell you
how.
You're soft.
- Ow.
- You were soft then,
and you're soft now.
And you're raising soft children
with heart murmurs.
Is any of this gonna affect
my grade?
Oh, you bet your soft,
squishy little butt.
If you don't pass those midterms
next week,
your grade is an F.
But that's not fair.
Oh, life is not fair.
Ask the old maid.
Don't worry, Maggie.
You're gonna pass that test,
because I'm gonna coach you.
You?!
Oh, that's so rich.
You're like a French poodle.
They're all poofy and perfect.
But wet 'em down,
and what do you
got?
A wet poodle?
A wet poodle?
I'm gonna make her suffer.
I'm gonna torture you so bad,
you are going to beg me
to kill you.
You know, marriage
has mellowed her.
Where the hell is Alan Beck?
First day of rehearsals,
and we're already
two hours behind.
Everybody out!
There's a bomb threat.
We're threatening to open
with this bomb.
No explosion.
It's worse than a bomb.
It's a dud.
Who are you?
Maxwell Sheffield.
You look familiar.
Yeah, well...
We, uh, worked together
some time ago in London.
I was your assistant.
Good.
Get me some coffee.
Actually, I'm the producer now.
With cream.
Who are you, blondie?
I'm C.C. Babcock.
I'm Mr. Sheffield's
business associate.
Yeah, I got a slew of those
myself,
but I got Thursday open.
I'll be in my
dressing room, Sheffield.
Oh, Mr. Sheffield...
Whoa!
And who is this lovely creature?
Put Thursday on hold, blondie.
Oh, Alan
Beck!
I just love
you!
Well, we have a lot in common.
You must be my leading lady.
Oh, no.
I'm Fran Fine, the nanny.
Some nanny.
You know, there's a little boy
inside me.
Want to raise him?
Well, what's the problem?
I think he's very charming.
Well, thank you
for your professional
opinion, Miss Fine.
So how did your meeting
with Maggie's
gym teacher go?
Oh, great.
I talked her
into
giving Maggie a make-up test.
I'll need
a credit
card.
Oh, yeah.
Wait. Wait a minute.
Do you intend
to bribe her?
No! But only because
I didn't think of it first.
So...
New exercise outfits.
My grandpa always said,
"you must
look your
best."
He insisted on being
buried in a tuxedo.
Unfortunately,
it was a rental,
which could be the
reason
for my family's
horrible credit
rating.
Sheffield!
Oh, God. What now,
more coffee?
I've been rethinking act two.
It's a downer.
You got my character
in a wheelchair.
What woman in the audience
is gonna believe
that Alan Beck is paralyzed
from the waist down?
Alan, you're playing
Franklin Delano
Roosevelt.
The man was a paraplegic.
Find a cure.
You call that
a back handspring layout?
Shape up!
I've seen better
routines
in Gymboree...
you Mary Lou Rotten.
Well, look who's
here,
Olga and Nadia.
Have a good practice, girls.
I have to get home to dinner.
A romantic dinner...
with my husband.
You know what that's like,
don't you, Fran?
Oh, that's right.
You don't.
Oh, forget her.
We'll show her.
Are you ready?
I'm ready.
Are you really ready?
I'm really ready.
I can't hear you, Sheffield!
I'm really ready!
All right!
Then let's go!
Oh!
Oh!
Tea time.
Are we feeling any better?
Do I look like I'm
feeling any better?
A woman with
an electrical appliance
around her neck
and her feet in water
should remember
who her friends are.
Ow!
Oh!
Oy!
Listen to me. I sound like
a kvetchy Cathy doll.
God, I hate dealing with actors.
They ruin the theater.
May I get you something, sir?
Scotch and soda?
Gin and tonic? Martini?
Yes.
I wonder if Flo Ziegfeld
had all these problems?
I think his problems started
when they named him
"Flo."
Oh, good.
I haven't missed happy hour.
Oh.
That Alan Beck'll
be the death of me yet.
He insists on playing F.D.R.
as a swashbuckling paraplegic
who leaps
out of his wheelchair at will
screaming, "It's a miracle!"
Well, if you want him
to stay in his chair,
I know someone
that could break his legs.
Ow!
And she wears sneakers,
so he'll never hear her coming.
I take it all is not well
in the Olympic village?
Who would have thought
that we'd both be facing
demons from our past?
I can't believe I'd hire
a pyromaniacal sociopath.
Yeah, well,
that was pretty stupid.
Mine was just a coincidence.
Oh, come on, Miss Fine.
Why don't you just
stand up to her?
You're not
in high school anymore.
You're a big macher
Oh, no. Here.
Thank you.
Why don't you take some
of your own advice?
I mean, if the guy's
making you miserable,
why don't you just
stand up to him?
Because he'll quit...
And he's brilliant.
Nah. The worst
that'll happen
is he'll set you on fire again.
How many times can he do that
before it gets old?
Thank you, Miss Fine.
Ow!
Oh!
Oh!
Ah!
Can't you just say hello
like a normal person?
I've been
looking forward to
this
for quite some time.
What's with you?
What, do you like
to see young girls suffer?
Oh, yeah.
Especially if they cry.
Okay, Sheffield.
I set up five stations for you.
Each of them is worth 20 points.
Start with the ropes.
The ropes?
No, not the ropes.
Anything but the ropes.
Honey, go out there,
hold your head up high,
don't forget to breathe,
and above all,
watch for your
nails.
[THEME FROMROCKY
Oops!
Ooh!
Oh!
Whoa! Oh!
Ah!
She stinks.
Well, it's better to
have tried and stunk
than never to have stunk at all.
Look, she has been
working her butt off.
I think that she deserves
something for it.
I'm gonna give her something.
An F.
I love my job.
What kind of a teacher
are you, anyway?
Teachers are supposed
to educate, not intimidate.
What's the matter,
cat got your tongue?
You're choking?
Why didn't you tell me
you were choking?
This is the international sign
for choking.
Well, now I know.
All right. Okay. Focus.
Oh, Mrs. Stone,
are you okay?
Oh...
Oh, you saved my life.
You saved my life?
Well, I might not
have passed gym,
but lucky for you,
I passed the Heimlich poster
every Sunday at Fung Lum's
Chinese restaurant.
So, how'd I do?
Oh, you did great, honey.
You got an A. Right?
Right.
Really?
Oh, because I felt like
I was really on.
Forty-eight, no matinees.
My understudy's good enough
for the blue-haired ladies.
Forty-nine,
I want a personal trainer.
Young, dumb, stacked.
And 50,
I want...
I want this.
Alan, uh, before you go,
I have a couple of demands
of my own.
Oh, really?
Yeah.
From now on,
I'll give the orders
around here,
and you will conduct yourself
in a professional manner.
Or?
Or...
Or you're fired.
You're bluffing.
Try me.
Come on, Sheffield.
You know as well as I know
that no one can play this role
as well as Alan Beck.
I am F.D.R.
December 7, 1941,
a date that will live in infamy.
The only thing we have to fear
is fear itself.
- Oh, Mr.
- Sheffield.
Anthony Hopkins called again,
and he wants to know
whether he should
bring his own wheelchair.
The guy's such a pest.
But a lovely man.
Whatever Tony wants
is just fine.
Ah.
You know, Sheffield,
I've been thinking.
Maybe some of my demands
might be negotiable.
Some of your demands?
All right, all of them.
But I'm keeping this.
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Uh, Miss Babcock
has your checks.
You were great.
Thank you.
Very believable.
Anthony Hopkins, Miss Fine?
A nice touch.
My acting was pretty good,
huh, Mr. Sheffield?
Maybe I should play
Eleanor Roosevelt.
I know all her lines.
"Ah, look at all
the lonely
people."
That was Eleanor Rigby.
Oh.
Don't quit your day job.
Oh, I won't.
Look at the class of '82.
Mm, mm, mm.
What a bunch of losers.
Look at your hair, Fine.
Oh, that was
the Farrah Fawcett look.
Wait a minute.
Is that Daniel Pirialli
with his arm around you?
Yeah, he was my boyfriend.
Oh. A boy like
that
will kill your
brother.
No. He's not
that bad.
Sometimes I still wonder.
Forget that boy
and find
another.
- Who?
- One of your own kind.
Stick to your own kind.