Ole Golly always says that
a real writer knows that everyone has a story to tell.
Where is that dumb thing?
Based on what I've discovered on my spy route, I would agree.
Everyone does have a story to tell.
Everyone but the Robinsons.
Two people who are so boring, they make belly button lint seem exciting.
What did you buy today, Mrs. Robinson?
A feather duster, Mr. Robinson.
For dusting?
Why, yes. For dusting, Mr. Robinson.
Like watching paint dry.
I knew that I'd eventually figure out
that they were Russian spies or aliens from Mars.
Then I ran out of "eventuallys."
They're moving?
If the Robinsons left before I dug up their story,
how could I call myself a real writer?
Harriet, hurry. We're going to be late for the party.
Were the Robinsons just using their boringness as a fiendish disguise?
I had one chance to figure it out.
I'd need a fiendish disguise of my own.
Gotcha.
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I am gonna be who I wanna be
My autonomy
No, I won't cut my hair
And I'll wear whatever
I like it when I get to be myself
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
If it isn't the Welsches.
Come in.
Harriet?
In a dress?
Will wonders never cease?
Normally I'd never be caught dead in this outfit.
But people are more likely to spill their guts
if they think you're a goody-good and not a nosy spy.
Pinky, take the Welsches' coats,
and then you can take Harriet to the kids' party.
Have fun, you two.
No. The dreaded kids' party.
It's a classic grown-up move that spells doom for spying.
Now that you're here, the party can really start.
I had made a list of possible secret identities for the Robinsons.
International art thieves.
Time travelers.
Pod people?
Whatever their story was, I only had about two hours to figure it out.
Are the Robinsons here yet?
Yep. I had to carry their coats.
Mrs. Whitehead invited them every year.
I think she felt sorry for them.
I've been waiting to show you something. It's really neato-mosquitoes.
"Neato-mosquitoes"?
Yeah, neato-mosquitoes.
Sure, why not?
Step one in my mission:
Escape Pinky Whitehead by using the oldest trick in the party book.
Pinky, where's the bathroom?
Just down the hall and to the left. I'll wait here for you.
And she stepped on balls.
Can you believe it?
Well, you know I would never...
Being a kid at an adult party is ideal for spying.
Adults will reveal all kinds of things thinking kids can't hear.
Did you hear about Mortimer?
Twenty years his wife thought he had a full head of hair.
One swoop and a bird plucked that toupee right off his bald head.
Are birds attracted to fake hair or all hair?
Either way, wear more hats outside.
Seeing so many species of grown-ups in their natural habitat
was kind of like watching a nature documentary.
If we're very, very quiet, we may get a glimpse of the rare horn-rimmed windbag.
Buy stocks, stocks, stocks, stocks!
To your left, you'll see a Mr. Withers.
A shy creature who only recently learned how to leave its nest.
Look to your right and you'll see a cunning Mrs. Plumber cornering her prey.
Say, have you ever thought of putting your dog in little dungarees?
They're all the rage.
Relying on its keen instincts,
the rare bow-headed fancy lady makes her escape.
Can I put you down for a "maybe"?
But where were the Robinsons?
I know they were lurking around this party jungle somewhere.
Don't worry, Carol. People love your tuna casserole.
Well, I mean, it's not a competition.
For years my mom and Mrs. Whitehead have been at war
over who is the casserole queen of the Upper East Side.
Keep your eye out for Seymour "it's a gas" Gasco.
The comedian? Isn't he going to be on your variety show?
Yes, if he ever signs his contract.
I figure a little food, a little schmooze,
and I'll get his little signature on the dotted line.
Looks delicious.
I'll just put this right here, next to my turkey cassoulet.
It's so nice to have one of each, gourmet and family style.
Who's going to eat my casserole when they can have her cassoulet?
I'm a director, so why don't I direct people to your casserole?
Lights, camera, action, dear.
Okay, Gasco. Where are you?
Okay, Robinsons. Where are you?
Mrs. Robinson, we are at a party.
We certainly are, Mr. Robinson. A party.
Hello. It's great to see you.
Would you like to play charades with us?
Sorry, bud. Maybe later.
In adult speak, "maybe later" means never.
Some party. Where's the music?
You crank it up, I'll start the conga line.
Where did they go?
Watch where you're going, kid.
I'm ever so sorry.
Do you like my new dress?
It's adorable.
Thank you ever so much.
I hate to bother you, but have you seen Mr. and Mrs. Robinson?
I'm sorry, sweetie. But if I do, I'll let you know.
You're ever so nice.
Pardon me.
My Robinsons' secret identity list.
There you are.
Did you get lost getting to the bathroom? Happens to me all the time.
Truman, no! Not the food table.
Come back!
Oh, Truman. You are in for trouble now.
This wasn't good.
If Mr. Robinson found my secret list, he'd know it was mine
because my notepaper said, "From the desk of Harriet M. Welsch."
There you are.
Why would you want to spend time with the boring adults
when you could be having fun, fun, fun at the children's party?
If you've ever been stuck in the kid room,
then you know it's a wasteland...
where the big kids have been stripped of all their powers...
Do you think my TV misses me?
...and the real rulers of this strange and savage world are the little kids.
It's like pip-squeak feeding frenzy.
Gimme, gimme, gimme.
Fruity punch? Oops!
I got it.
I need to get out of here.
Hi, Harriet. I really like your dress.
That makes one of us.
How's it going on the ham radio?
No contact yet with extraterrestrials,
but I did learn the Turkish word for "hello." It's merhaba.
Okay.
I gotta go, Pinky.
Don't you wanna try out my ham radio?
I built it myself from a kit.
Maybe later.
Come on, give it a try.
Since you and I are always on the same wavelength.
Just for the record, Pinky and I have never been on the same wavelength.
He's a nice guy and all, but we have nothing in common.
Jonathan, no.
Any stray voltage could short out the ham.
While Pinky was distracted, it was time to make my escape.
Oops! I got it.
If you ask me, I think this casserole is singing your tuna.
Bad Truman.
I'm a vegetarian.
Well, if it isn't Seymour "it's a gas" Gasco.
Glad you could make it.
Seymour, can you, you know.
It's a gas!
Seymour?
Welschy! How ya doing, honey?
I heard you might be coming. That's why I brought your contract.
Just need your John Hancock and we'll be all set for the show.
Hold the phone. In good time, Welschy.
Say, which one of these is turkey and which one is tuna?
That's the turkey.
Di-- Did I say that's turkey? I meant that one's turkey.
Close call. I'm allergic to tuna.
One bite and my stomach goes to the not-so-happy place,
if you know what I mean.
I think I do.
Hey, Bobby B. Old so-and-so. How's it shaking?
Now this is a gas!
It's just a prototype, but so far, I can control the lights...
and the radio.
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
Janet, I don't wanna conga.
Or maybe I do.
Pinky, do any of these knobs make the hi-fi in the living room louder?
Yep. But you gotta be careful because it gets--
Loud!
Yeah!
Conga line!
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
Hey, kids. Who wants to conga?
No, children! Stay in your room!
Come on and grab some casserole.
It's a once-in-a-lifetime "oppor-tuna-ty."
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
Stop!
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
I'll be right back. I gotta talk to Seymour.
Hey, Seymour.
So, what's it gonna take for me to get you to sign that contract?
I'm gonna tell you what, Welschy.
You get your wife to make me a casserole someday
and I'll sign it right now.
Deal.
Did I hear someone complimenting my tuna casserole?
Tuna?
New conga line!
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
This is a grown-up party!
Conga, conga, conga Da, da, da, da, da, da
Da, da, da, da, da, da
Let's conga!
Pinky!
This conga dance is overheating me, Mrs. Robinson.
Can I take your coat?
Thank you.
Let me help you with that, Pinky.
Yeah!
Conga, conga, conga Conga, conga, conga
Harriet, there's a coatroom code.
You can't just start digging into other people's pockets.
This is an emergency.
Voilà.
Is that the coatroom, Mrs. Robinson?
It is, Mr. Robinson.
Why don't dresses have pockets?
Can someone please explain that to me?
Is that my coat, Mrs. Robinson?
It is your coat, Mr. Robinson.
I think we should leave now, Mrs. Robinson.
I agree, Mr. Robinson.
What? How in the world could you ever think about leaving
without playing charades with me and my partner?
Finally.
I had come to the party to find the Robinsons' real story.
If that meant playing charades, well, a good spy never gives up.
Could you give us a moment?
Pinky, would you join me back...
So, what's our mission?
Have you ever noticed how boring the Robinsons are?
Like human elevator music.
That's what I always say.
Of course you do. Same wavelength.
Right. Well, I think it's just a cover story to hide their secret identities.
Check these out.
"Pod people"?
You know, when normal humans are replaced by alien replicas grown in giant pods.
Pod people.
Pinky, get down.
I've got a plan.
We're going to give these words to the Robinsons for them to act out in charades.
The minute we see them twitch or flinch or act like plants...
We'll know what their story is.
Are you two ready back there?
Ready.
Here are your words.
And we've got your words right here. You go first.
Two words.
First word.
Whisper. Gossip. Secret.
Two words.
Secret agent.
Well done, Mrs. Robinson.
See anything weird?
Negatory.
An elephant.
Pod people.
The lone-- The Lone Ranger!
Great guess.
Great clues.
International.
Art.
Robbers?
Thieves! International art thieves.
It was weird to see the Robinsons suddenly being fun.
It was like charades unblocked a big, boring boulder that was holding them back.
See anything?
Just wait. They'll break.
The things you do for love.
You see what I'm seeing?
One word, two syllables.
Try hard, Mr. Robinson.
If we get this one, we will be the champions of the universe.
Universe?
This one is very tricky, Mrs. Robinson.
Which word is it?
I don't know.
Only one way to find out.
They're opening a new wing?
No, Truman! No human food.
Watch out!
The answer!
The casserole!
Truman!
Bad Truman. Bad.
Guess who won the casserole contest?
It's not really a contest.
Take that, Peggy Whitehead.
Okay, it is a contest.
And don't you worry, hon. There's more at home for you to enjoy.
More?
I'm sorry, Mrs. Robinson.
Looks like you children are the big winners tonight.
The best team won.
You two have very good chemistry together.
Great chemistry.
What can we say. Same...
Wavelength.
Thank you for the game.
Before we met you two,
we thought everyone here was a little, you know...
Boring.
Time to go, Mrs. Robinson.
We've got a long trip ahead of us tomorrow.
Where are you going?
Back where we came from.
Way, way out there in the middle of nowhere.
Sounds far away.
It's practically light-years from here.
Well, it was nice meeting you.
Same here. Have a safe trip.
See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya.
Why wouldn't you want to be us?
It's just a funny thing people say.
Plus, it rhymes.
Yeah, like neato-mosquitoes.
So, what do you wanna do now?
Why don't you show me that super-duper ham radio you built?
Nah. I've got a better idea.
Harriet!
So maybe I didn't figure out the Robinsons' secret story.
But that doesn't mean I was a bad writer.
After all, I found a story I liked even better.
The story of me getting to know Pinky.
And we were only on chapter one.
Who knew where it would all end up?
What's your favorite smell?
The sidewalk after it rains.
Me too.
Wait till next year, Carol Welsch.
"Martians"?
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
And I try my best to do good In the neighborhood
I smile real nice
And I strive to tell the truth
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do
I am gonna be who I wanna be
My autonomy
I just wanna be You just wanna be
We just wanna be
No, I won't cut my hair
And I'll wear whatever
I like it when I get to be myself
I don't wanna be You don't wanna be
We don't wanna be told what to do