Original subtitles

Dance your cares away

Worry's for another day Let the music play

Down at Fraggle Rock

Work your cares away

Dancing's for another day Let the Fraggles play

We're Gobo, Mokey, Wembley, Boober, Red!

A Fraggle!

Hey, look, Ma.

I caught a Fraggle!

Dance your cares away

Worry's for another day Let the music play

Down at Fraggle Rock

Down at Fraggle Rock Down at Fraggle Rock

Down at Fraggle Rock.

We've got an invitationto the society's annual costume party.

Look, Sprocket. It's tonight.

Let's think of a reason not to go.

No, calm down, Sprocket. If you really want to go, we'll go.

But you decide what we should wear.

You might find somethingin that old clothes trunk.

Remember last year, we went as a cowboy.

I made a terrible horse.

Everybody knew it was me right away.

But I have to admit, you were pretty good.

The cowboy hat you wore looked terrific.

And the arrow through the head jokewas the perfect touch, perfect.

It's too bad about the boots, though.

You should have warned me about the spurs.

Hey!

Yipe!

Whoa!

Wolf?

No, Sprocket. We went asLittle Red Riding Hood two years ago.

It's me, Gobo.

Of course it's you, Gobo.

Let me tell you aboutthis slide stunt I made up.

It is fantastic!

-You were scared, weren't you?-Me? Scared?

Let me tell you about this slide stunt.

Okay. But first, cover your eyes.

-Now what?-Dark, isn't it?

How can I fall for that?

I think it's over here, unless Boober ate it.

Yeah.

"Reddish radish, brook that gurgles," "Reddish radish, brook that gurgles,"

"Garden path and..."

Gurgles.

What rhymes with "gurgles"? Murgles, jurgles, burbles, durgles...

-Hi, Mokey.-Oh, hi!

Gobo and I are going to practicethe most terrific slide stunt

-you have ever seen.-Great!

Let me show you, Gobo.

How about "wurgles"?

I'm writing a poem. I need a word that rhymes with "gurgles."

You're writing a poem, Mokey? Great!

-Then your tail goes like this.-Ow! Hey, watch it. That hurts.

Sorry. Well, you know me, Mokey.

I'm not too good at poems. But sliding? Sliding is my specialty.

Actually, falling on your face is your specialty.

Doesn't matter, it'll come to me.

Can I read your poemwhen you're finished, Mokey?

Sure.

And now, back to the Red and Gobo slide.

You mean the Gobo and Red slide.-No. Now, watch carefully.

You mean the Gobo and Red slide.-No. Now, watch carefully.

First, we stand like this.

Only we do it at the top of the slide.

Hey, wait a minute!

And then we bend backuntil our heads touch our tails.

But then we can't see where we're going. She'll kill us!

I finished it!

Saved by the poem. We'll do the slide later, okay, Red?

Later?

-Hi, Boober. Hi, Wembley.-Hi.

You want to hear my poem?

-Is it an elegy to plague and pestilence?-Pestilence.

-We'll do it later, Red. I promise.-Let me see.

But I'm ready now!

Well, no, not exactly. It's called Ode to Radishes.

Gobo, this is the best part. We twist like...

-Radishes. My favorite.-...this.

-Mine, too.-Then we flip over twice.

- Okay.-Okay. - Okay.-Okay.

"Little radish by a tree..."

-Then we sail through the air.-Later, Red.

-"Growing reddish, silently." -It works.

-Nice.-"Reddish radish, brook that gurgles."

Gurgles. "Gurgles"?

"Garden path, where life unfurgles."

-I like it.-I like it.

-Forget it.-Yeah.

-Yeah.-It's so wonderfully morose.

Thank you.

Why does everybody thinka poem is better than a good slide?

No one said, "Red, show us your slide."

They all said, "Oh, Mokey, read us your poem. Oh, Mokey..."

Oh, Mokey.

Dreaming of someone As gentle as the dew

Graceful as a someone can be Graceful as a someone can be

Dreaming of someone And feeling very blue

Because I know that someone isn't me

And how I wish I could change myself

Change to somebody new

And how I long to exchange myself

How I wish I were you

Dreaming of making Dreaming of making

A garden in my mind

Where poems grow like leaves on a tree

Dreaming and waking And every time I find

That extra special someone isn't me

And how I wish I could change myself

Change to somebody new

And how I long to exchange myself

How I wish I were you

Maybe I ought to go see the Trash Heap. She'd understand.

Oh, yeah. Marjory, you'll love it. It's a great joke.

Oh, yeah. Marjory, you'll love it. It's a great joke.

Yeah, now cover your eyes.

Now what?

Dark, isn't it?

What?

Dark, isn't it?

-What a good joke!-You got company.

Hello, Madam Trash Heap. It's Red Fraggle here.

I've got a terrible problem.

What is your problem?

Well, I have this friend. Her name is Mokey and everybody likes her.

Especially my other friend, Gobo. He loves her poems.

Your friend sounds like a nice Fraggle.

It's such a good thing, writing poems.

I myself always wanted to write poems.

Let's see, "Garbage is brown, compost is gray..."

Even the Trash Heapwants to be like Mokey.

Well, I know how she feels.

"Garbage is brown, compost is gray..." "Garbage is brown, compost is gray..."

Ah, yes.

"Junk is foul, and so are they."

Marjory, that was beautiful.

Yeah. We never been immortalized before.

Yes. Nothing like a good poem.

Now, what was itthat little Fraggle wanted?

La la la laLa la la la la

La la la laLa la la la la

La la la laLa la la la la

La la la laLa la la la la

Now, let's see.

Hair down like Mokey's.A sweater like Mokey's.

And the final step.

The voice.

Okay. Here goes.

-Trouble.-Let's go.

La la la laLa la la la la La...

La la laLa la la la La la la...

La la...

Hey, Red, look. I've got this book all about disease.

This is great, because now I can find outwhat's wrong with me before I get sick.

Now look, right here on this page, it tells you all about...

What has happened to your hair? What has happened to your hair?

Knock it off!

I mean, what did you say, little Boober?

Funny hair. Weird voice. These could be symptoms.

But I'm not sick, Boobikins.

These could be contagious symptoms.

Just relax, Red. We'll have you backto your old self in no time.

But I don't want to be my old self.

I want to be Mokey.

You ask me, everyone at the partywill know it's you right away.

Look.

How about something like this?

There! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a real ghost.

Or a pile of laundry.

But if you go as laundry, what would I go as? Bleach? Clothespin?

No, forget it, Sprocket. You think of something else.

Just as I thought. Red has a disease.

It's called bacterial sufferosis.

The symptoms are funny hairand weird voice.

"Though rare, this agonizing illnessis very contagious."

My hair, it... it feels kind of funny.

Nothing's wrongbecause my voice isn't weird.

Weird, weird, weird.

La la la

Is it? It is.

Oh, no! I've got sufferosis. Help!

-Wait up, Gobo!-Come on.

Gobo, please. You win. I can't run anymore.

Gobo, please. You win. I can't run anymore.

Well, then we'll rest.

We can readmy Uncle Travelling Matt's postcard.

Wembley, are you all right? Does your hair hurt?

-What?-Listen.

"Dear Nephew Gobo,

The strangeness of this worldnever fails to challenge my resources.

Recently, I was walking by a placethat the silly creatures call a farm."

It was a beautiful day.

I wanted to study the farm's inhabitants, so I decided to drop in.

I received a touching welcomefrom a very distinctive creature

and I decided to investigate further.

I put on a disguise.

In all modesty, it was brilliant. In all modesty, it was brilliant.

The farmer was completely fooled.

"Where do you think you're going, little pig?" she said.

It seems my disguise worked too well.

So I may stay here longer than I planned.

I wonder if you can send out for food?

"It's always difficultbeing something you're not,

particularly in the name of science.

Love, your Uncle Travelling Matt."

Gives you something to think about, eh, Wembley?

And now your voice is weird.

This is the worst caseof sufferosis I've ever seen.

This is the worst caseof sufferosis I've ever seen.

See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the little thimble beetle Sitting on a stone

See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the little thimble beetle Sitting on a stone

See the little thimble beetle Sitting on a stone Okay.

-See the beetle sitting on a stone-See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the nimble thimble beetleSitting on a pitted spotted stone

See the nimble thimble beetleSitting on a pitted spotted stone

-Good!-Come on!

-See the beetle sitting on a stone-See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the little simple nimbleThimble beetle's daughters

Doing curtsies like they ought to

As they sit in sticky spotsUpon a pitted spotted stone

See the little simple nimbleThimble beetle's daughters

Doing curtsies like they ought to

As they sit on sticky spotsUpon a pitted spotted stone

-Great!-I got it!

-See the beetle sitting on a stone-See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the little simple nimbleThimble beetle's daughters

Doing curtsies like they ought toAs they sit and hit and spit and spat

And flit and flatten flowersOn a pitted spotted stone

See the little simple sillyDimpled pimpled daughters

As they flirt with dirty ottersWhile they flit and flatten spatulas

And smack a wizened bratThat sat and flattered maddened hatters

On a schizy kidney stone

See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the beetle sitting on a stone See the beetle sitting on a stone

See the little thimble beetleSitting on a stone

Good, Red.

Well, something's wrong with Red.

She's doing impersonations.

Yeah, she's doing impersonations.

-Well, I think she's acting really weird.-Really weird.

Crushed rock and stale puddle water. Could that be the cure?

Could that be the cure?

Well, Mokey, I think Red's trying to be you.

-But why?-But why?

We need some stale puddle water. Wembley, got a bucket?

Not on me.

It all started when she came backfrom the Gorg garden.

-The Gorg garden?-Yeah!

Do you thinkthe Trash Heap said something?

Boy. Those Fraggles met their match now.

Look out. Gorgs.

I sure hope the Trash Heapcan tell us what's wrong with Red.

Yeah. Me too. Yeah. Me too.

Gorg's not looking. Let's go.

Dum dum dum dum dee-di

Catch a frizzy FraggleAnd punch him in the

Di dee dumDee di dee dum Dee di dee dumDee di dee dum

Dum dum dum dum dee-doo

Catch another FraggleAnd cook him in a

Doo dee dumDee doo dee dum

Dee doo dee dumDee doo dee dum Dum dum dum dum dee-dum

Catch another FraggleAnd kick him in the

Dum dee dumDee dum dee dum Dum dee dumDee dum dee dum

Dum dum dum dum dee-dum Dum dum dum dum dee-dum

-Junior?-Yeah?

The festival of Gorg's Eve is upon us, and you haven't learned your special bow.

But, Ma, I need to finish my Fraggle trap.

Now I'll gather radishes like Mokey.

Inhale.

-Yeah?-Reach, two, three.

Exhale, two, three.

Bend, two, three.

Okay.

Inhale. Reach, two, three.

Exhale, two, three. Bend...

Fraggle!

Who are you?

And Mokey sounded likesuch a nice Fraggle.

-She writes poems.-Yeah, poems that everybody likes.

-Especially Gobo.-Whoever that is.

So that's it.

-We'd better go find Red to clear this up.-Yeah.

"Rotten rinds and moldy stew,

that's what makes me think of you."

Oh, Marjory.

We never knew you had it in you.

Boys, I got everything in me. Boys, I got everything in me.

No comment.

One more time.

It's as clear as water. Red's trying to be you.

-But that's silly.-Well, not if you're Red.

I should have paid more attentionto her slide.

I didn't realize it was so important. I only saw that it was fatal.

-Bow, one, two... Fraggles!-Gorgs!

Behind the radishes!

Where'd you go?

Look! I caught some Fraggles in my trap, Mommy!

You little Fraggles. I'll get you a nice comfy cage, okay?

So don't go away.

Oh, no!

Gobo! What are we gonna do?

-Hey, Mokey! Gobo.-Red!

-Can you guys get out?-I think so, but we need some time.

All right.

Here comes a Gorg. Here comes a Gorg.

Dum dum dum dum dee-dage

Catch a couple FragglesAnd stick 'em in a cage

-Hey, Gorgbelly!-Who said that?

I did.

I did not know bushes could talk.

Well, we can. And you'd better listen!

Okay, Mr. Bush. I'm listening. My ears are wide open.

-You know, I've been watching you.-How are you doing?

Not good.

Did you see me catch the Fraggles? I got 'em and I grabbed 'em

-and I picked 'em up and I stuck 'em... Not now, Gorghead.

Listen carefully.

Yes, sir, Mr. Bush.

Close your eyes!

Okay. Now what?

Dark, isn't it?

Well, yes, now that you mention it, bush, it is very dark.

-Okay.-Anything else you want me to do?

Let's go.

-Run!-Okay.

Run!

What? Hey, the Fraggles escaped!

Mr. Bush? Mr. Bush?

Boy, was that ever close.

-Yeah-Yeah, I'll say.

Red, if it hadn't been for you,

why, we would have beenfinished Fraggles by now.

If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn'thave been in that trap in the first place.

Gobo!

He's right, Mokey. I was trying to gather radishes like you.

I was trying to do everything like you.

Let's face it. I make a crummy you.

Yeah.

-But you make a great bush.-Oh, yeah.

-Gee, thanks!-Come on.

My hair is killing me. And my voice is disgusting.

- I'm too young to die!-Me too! - I'm too young to die!-Me too!

Quick, bring the crushed rock.

You know something? That Red is all right.

-Yeah.-Is she really all right?

-You bet she is.-Wembley, there's hope.

-Hi, everybody.-Hi, Red.

You're looking at good old Red Fraggle, master of the slide.

Yeah. And expert bush impersonator.

Yeah.

Hey, Gobo, you ready to try that slide now?

Well, I'm willing to try.

-Nice knowing you, everybody.-Come on.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Red and Gobo slide.

Wait a minute. Oh, no!

You did it!

That's it, Sprocket. You've done it!

You look so handsome, the spitting image of me.

But do you think people will knowwho I'm supposed to be?

Okay. Let's go to that party. Okay. Let's go to that party.

Dance your cares away

Worry's for another day Let the music play

Down at Fraggle Rock

Dance your cares away

Worry's for another day Let the music play

Down at Fraggle Rock

Down at Fraggle Rock

Down at Fraggle Rock