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Difference between revisions of "I'm a Poet/Transcript"
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(Back to the story) | (Back to the story) | ||
'''Mr. Ratburn''': Only two days until the library poetry contest and only one student has signed up: Fern. | |||
'''Francine: '''Fern never said she wrote poetry | |||
'''Binky: '''Fern never says anything. | |||
the judge is famous poet Jack Prelutsky | the judge is famous poet Jack Prelutsky | ||
Line 47: | Line 47: | ||
moon June spoon a loon | moon June spoon a loon | ||
''Fern sits in the cafeteria reading a book. Binky and Rattles walk past her.'' | |||
sleepy | '''Binky: '''Just thinking of poetry, oh, it makes me sleepy. ''He fakes falling asleep.'' | ||
'''Rattles:''' Binky, know what’s twice as boring as a poem? | |||
'''Binky: '''What? | |||
'''Rattles:''' Two poems. | |||
'''Kids:''' (laugh) ''Fern looks annoyed, then stands up.'' | |||
'''Fern:''' You only make fun because you couldn’t write a poem if you tried. ''She leaves.'' | |||
'''Kids: '''Hhh! | |||
'''Francine:''' That’s the most she’s said all year. | |||
'''Buster:''' You tell ‘em, Fern! (whistles) ''Binky gives him a death glare. He | |||
shuts up.'' | |||
''After school the kids run after Fern.'' | |||
'''Binky:''' Maybe I couldn’t write a poem, but neither could they. | |||
could | '''Francine:''' I could if I wanted to. | ||
'''Arthur:''' Me too. No problem. | |||
'''Binky: '''I can write a better poem than you with my brain tied behind my back, Arthur. | |||
'''Arthur:''' Ha! Oh yeah? I’d like to see that. ''Fern stops so abruptly that the others bang into one another.'' | |||
'''Kids:''' Ow! Ow! | |||
'''Fern:''' I bet none of you could even write a poem. | |||
'''Francine: '''I could too. | |||
can | '''Arthur''': Maybe Binky can’t, but I can. | ||
'''Binky''': There’s nothing Arthur can do that I can’t. | |||
'''Muffy''': You are so rude, Fern. | |||
'''Kids:''' (all talk at once, except Fern) | |||
'''Binky''': Someone hold me back or I’ll write a poem right now. | |||
'''Fern:''' QUIET!! ''A car alarm goes off.'' I bet that none of you can write a poem and finish it in time to submit it to the poetry contest. | |||
'''Francine:''' I bet I can! | |||
'''Arthur''': I’ll not only finish one, it will be better than Binky’s. | |||
'''Buster:''' Is anyone else hungry? | |||
'''Fern:''' Anyone who doesn’t has to join the poetry club for a year. Bet, or are you bunch of chickens? | |||
''She holds out her little finger. The others hook their little fingers in.'' | |||
'''Arthur:''''' to Buster: ''How do you write a poem? | |||
'''Buster:''' I thought you knew. | |||
''Arthur and Buster look through books in the library.'' | |||
'''Arthur:''' I don’t want to go to poetry club for a whole year. | |||
wings | '''Buster:''' It’ll be a cinch. We just find a good poem and write one like it. (reads:) “The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things / of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings / and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings.” No, I don’t think I can write like that. | ||
'''Arthur:''' Let’s find one that makes sense. | |||
'''Buster:''' What does this mean? “Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse”. | |||
than his dog a little dearer than his | '''Arthur:''' Maybe it’s a riddle. What’s better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse? | ||
'''Buster:''' A gerbil that can do your homework. | |||
'''Arthur:''' Nothing’s better than my dog. Skip this guy, he doesn’t like dogs. | |||
uldn't | |||
today is very boring it's a very boring | today is very boring it's a very boring |
Revision as of 09:09, 27 November 2019
Arthur: My Sister Is A Sissy by Jack Prelutsky.
My sister is a sissy
She's afraid of dogs and cats
A toad can give her tantrums,
And she's terrified of rats
She screams at things with stingers,
Things that buzz and things that crawl.
Just the shadow of a spider
Sends my sister up the wall
A lizard makes her shiver,
And a turtle makes her squirm.
She positively cringes
At the prospect of a worm.
She's scared of things with feathers.
She's scared of things with fur.
She's scared of almost everything.
How come I'm scared of her?
(Title card)
I'M A POET
Writer: Joe Fallon
Storyboard Artist: Kevin Currie
(Bird singing, thunder crashing)
Binky Barnes: (voice-over) I'm a Poet!
(Back to the story)
Mr. Ratburn: Only two days until the library poetry contest and only one student has signed up: Fern.
Francine: Fern never said she wrote poetry
Binky: Fern never says anything.
the judge is famous poet Jack Prelutsky
not too late to enter listen I'm a poet
moon June spoon a loon
Fern sits in the cafeteria reading a book. Binky and Rattles walk past her.
Binky: Just thinking of poetry, oh, it makes me sleepy. He fakes falling asleep.
Rattles: Binky, know what’s twice as boring as a poem?
Binky: What?
Rattles: Two poems.
Kids: (laugh) Fern looks annoyed, then stands up.
Fern: You only make fun because you couldn’t write a poem if you tried. She leaves.
Kids: Hhh!
Francine: That’s the most she’s said all year.
Buster: You tell ‘em, Fern! (whistles) Binky gives him a death glare. He shuts up.
After school the kids run after Fern.
Binky: Maybe I couldn’t write a poem, but neither could they.
Francine: I could if I wanted to.
Arthur: Me too. No problem.
Binky: I can write a better poem than you with my brain tied behind my back, Arthur.
Arthur: Ha! Oh yeah? I’d like to see that. Fern stops so abruptly that the others bang into one another.
Kids: Ow! Ow!
Fern: I bet none of you could even write a poem.
Francine: I could too.
Arthur: Maybe Binky can’t, but I can.
Binky: There’s nothing Arthur can do that I can’t.
Muffy: You are so rude, Fern.
Kids: (all talk at once, except Fern)
Binky: Someone hold me back or I’ll write a poem right now.
Fern: QUIET!! A car alarm goes off. I bet that none of you can write a poem and finish it in time to submit it to the poetry contest.
Francine: I bet I can!
Arthur: I’ll not only finish one, it will be better than Binky’s.
Buster: Is anyone else hungry?
Fern: Anyone who doesn’t has to join the poetry club for a year. Bet, or are you bunch of chickens?
She holds out her little finger. The others hook their little fingers in.
Arthur: to Buster: How do you write a poem?
Buster: I thought you knew.
Arthur and Buster look through books in the library.
Arthur: I don’t want to go to poetry club for a whole year.
Buster: It’ll be a cinch. We just find a good poem and write one like it. (reads:) “The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things / of shoes and ships and sealing-wax, of cabbages and kings / and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings.” No, I don’t think I can write like that.
Arthur: Let’s find one that makes sense.
Buster: What does this mean? “Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse”.
Arthur: Maybe it’s a riddle. What’s better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse?
Buster: A gerbil that can do your homework.
Arthur: Nothing’s better than my dog. Skip this guy, he doesn’t like dogs.
uldn't
today is very boring it's a very boring
day there is nothing much to look at
there is nothing much to say there's a
peacock on my sneakers there's a penguin
on my head there's a dormouse on my
doorstep I am going back to bed today is
very boring it is boring through and
through there is absolutely nothing that
I think I want to do I see Giants riding
rhinos and an ogre with a sword there's
a dragon blowing smoke ring I am
positively bored today is very boring
I can hardly help but yawn there's a
flying saucer landing in the middle of
my lawn a volcano just erupted less than
half a mile away and I think I felt an
earthquake it's a very boring day thank
you thank you let's have our first
contestant and the ghosts of all the
fallen trees weep for a world that can't
live without them thank you mr. polesky
I have all of your poetry books you are
obviously little girl with impeccable
taste our next poet is francine frensky
my dad took me to a hockey game I got
hit in the head by a puck I get up ow my
head
ow call an ambulance out ow oh brother
this hurts put ice on it is's gonna
swell I got a big old purple lump on my
head and used it for show-and-tell
uh sir people think I can't write a poem
but they are so wrong I can write a poem
I wrote this one I wrote this poem and I
gave it the title
binky's poem so shut up the end that's
not a poem here I'm poem was poem four
times it was great yeah binky our final
poet is Buster Baxter these are the
things that make me nauseous gloppy
green goop that drips from faucets blue
hair that grows on slices of bread when
your big old dog tears in your bag when
a dirty sock drops on your face to you
when your friend's baby sister starts to
speak half a worm in the Apple you bit
finding human bone in your jello
throwing no slime lean and yellow and
people who eat creamed corn with their
mouths open so you can see it in i
probably shouldn't mention the free
butterscotch pudding being served at the
reception Oh Julie I couldn't help it
the street was full of elephants our
final final poem is Jimmy goes to the
city by Arthur read Jimmy was a happy
ape until some hunters caught him he
liked the jungle better than the city
where they brought him the city was
louder this
city was meaner even the dirt and the
jungle was cleaner so Jimmy made a
daring escape the hunters were suddenly
minus-18 he climbed the tallest building
because from there he'd seen how far
away the jungle was from the middle of
the city Jimmy jumped into a passing
plane but the pilot didn't wait for him
to explain jimmy flew back to the jungle
and all the same friends in their lair
the city is okay for a visit but you
couldn't make me live there and the
winner of the contest is I hate
contrasts you all win and nobody has to
join the Poetry Club because they won
the bet but this was young I know lots
of other disgusting if I want to join
hey here's a sign-up list mister / let's
Fern: Mr. Prelutsky, could you read us another poem?
Jack Prelutsky: All right. Well, Buster's poem put me in mind of one of my own, called Jellyfish Stew. "Jellyfish stew, I'm loony for you. I dearly adore you, oh, truly I do."