Original subtitles

Matthews. Just the man we wanna see.

Don't you guys get enough of me at school?

Yeah, more than. How would you like to help a couple of teachers

hand out some fliers?

- I wouldn't. - All right, thanks a lot.

Hey, guys, this year's spring dance is a '50s sock hop.

Like anyone would want to go to this.

Topanga, you wanna go to this?

No.

Of course not. It's me, right?

Just because we're not going out anymore, you don't want to go out anymore.

- What's that about? - Cory, it's about a decision we've made

to just be friends, and I don't think we should complicate that.

Topanga, it's a dance. In socks. What's complicated about that?

Cory, you're the one who broke up with me. Don't you understand that?

Of course I do. I know exactly where we stand.

And if you're not careful I'll break up with you again.

Cory, you've got to stop living in the past.

- She's right, Cor. - No, she's not, Shawn.

- Come on. Are you gonna finish that? - It's yours, buddy.

Of course it is, because you're my friend and I'm your friend.

That's the way it will always be and there's nothing complicated about that.

- You want my fries? - Well, only if you're not gonna finish them.

- Hey, what's with this microwave? - Oh, I unplugged it.

- It's been making this weird sound. - What kind of weird sound?

- (electricity crackles) - (Cory) No-o-o-o-o-o-o!

Power surge. My computer crashed.

Somebody plugged something in.

- Here, Morgan, hold this. - It was me. I did it.

Dad, my term paper on the space race is gone.

Now I've got to come up with ten pages on Sputnik and I got nothing.

Sputnik was the first satellite. Launched by the Russians. 1957.

Oh, it was a famous day in history.

It created this big panic because everybody thought

that the Russians were putting up a spy satellite.

Yeah. They were just experimenting, you know, for space travel.

How do you know so much? You're a grocer.

We're really Russian spies. (Russian accent) Right, Boris?

- (Russian accent) Yes, Natasha. - I heard a scream.

Oh, Mr. Feeny. Don't expect to get my paper on time.

I never do.

See, the problem is no one understands how hard I have it.

- Oh, forgive us, Mr. Matthews. - Yeah.

I mean, computer glitches, girlfriend glitches...

You guys had it so easy going to high school way back in the '50s.

- Um, '70s. - Late '70s.

I was there, Mr. Matthews.

Communist witch hunts, mass paranoia,

people diving under desks for fear the bomb was going to drop.

It wasn't quite the Happy Days you think.

Yeah, well, maybe you didn't have a good time, but I bet I would have.

(electricity crackles)

(jukebox plays then grinds to a halt)

Hey, Howdy Doody, we're dancing here! Why did you pull the plug?

Oh, sorry.

Wait a minute.

Topanga.

Is this the sock hop? Did you decide to come with me?

What are you? Cracked? I don't date guys I don't know.

- What do you mean, you don't know? - Hey, hey, hey! You zooful of weirdies.

Shake a leg. Time to get back to school.

Wait a minute.

Where am I?

Excuse me.

- What year is this? - It's 1957.

What's the matter, kid? You flip your wig?

It's happened.

I'm here. Great Caesar's ghost!

I've gone back in time.

(Cory) It really is the '50s.

This is... hunky-dory.

Hey, hey, hey, all right. You're here too.

Hey, hey, hey.

Don't handle the merchandise unless you intend on paying the price.

Shawn, come on, it's me.

First of all, I don't know who "me" is.

And second of all, it ain't Shawn.

It's Shawnzie.

But, Shawn, we're best friends.

No, see, I don't have any friends. I'm a loner.

No, you're not, OK? You just think you are, but deep down

you really need a good buddy who's always gonna be there for you.

OK, buddy boy, why don't you hold this?

Ping-Pong, huh? I love Ping-Pong.

Got a ball?

Shawnzie Hunterelli.

I warned you that your next shenanigan would be your last.

Uh, it wasn't him, it was me.

Ah, a new student trying to make a name for himself, eh? And that name is?

If he doesn't know you, be smart. Make one up.

My name is, uh...

...Brad Pitt, sir.

Well, Mr. Pittser.

If you want to keep your nose clean around here,

I suggest that you steer clear of bad apples like this Johnny Rottenseed.

Pittser. You piped up for me when you didn't have to.

We help each other out, I mean, that's what we've always done, Shawn... zie.

Well, if I was the type of guy that said thank you, I would.

- You're welcome. - But I'm not that type of guy.

Young lady, your hair is far too high.

A clear violation of school policy.

And a hazard to all low-flying aircraft.

If I see an aeroplane I'll duck, all right?

And spit out that gum.

Topanga.

There you are.

- Listen, Archie, the name's TL. - As in Topanga Lawrence.

As in tough luck for suckers who don't know better.

- I'm in love. - (bell rings)

All right, you guys, I heard a bell, that means everyone into class now.

Come on, it's my first day. You're gonna make me look bad.

All right, settle, settle.

What does it take to calm you kids down?

Go ahead, Teach, make your mama proud.

Today's topic for discussion - what will life be like in 40 years?

Oh, yes!

OK, who wants to go first? Young lady, your hair is up.

How about you, Shawnzie? What do you think life will be like in 40 years?

I don't know. I don't know what I'm having for lunch.

That was this close to a shenanigan.

- We have a volunteer. - You bet you do.

40 years from now, I can say with total confidence,

a man will walk on the moon, pizza will have cheese baked right into the crust

and men and women will be equal partners in the workplace and in their relationships.

What an imagination.

- Tell us more about that pizza. - That's all I got.

Good enough. 'Cause right now it's time to put on our helmets

and practice our civil-defense drills.

(class groans)

The atomic bomb falls, we see a brilliant flash...

- Now, what do we do? - (all) We duck and cover.

Correct. Here we go.

Flash!

You're dead, Brad.

Mr. Turner, you're telling me that if the atomic bomb falls

I'll be safe if I go like this?

No, no, no. You gotta drop to the ground, duck under desk, curl up, cover neck...

...And kiss your butt goodbye.

All right.

Who said that?

Who said... uttbay?

I did, Mr. Turner.

I said... butt.

That's it. This time you've gone too far, Hunterelli.

- For saying butt? - Oh, this one's on me.

- How come? - It's what we've always done.

Oh. The ear thing.

Hello, Dean Witter, please.

Speaking?

Yes. I'd like to buy some Xerox stock.

Never heard of it, huh? What about IBM?

Selling at a nickel a share. I'll take 'em all!

Here's my dilemma. I've been accepted to both Harvard and Yale.

You're my mentor. What's your advice?

Oh, you'd be a fine student at either institution.

Oh, undoubtedly I would. But they've asked me to teach.

Well, as you know, Mr. Matthews, there are no females at Harvard.

Well, I wouldn't want anything to distract me from my intellectual pursuits.

Harvard it is.

Ah, young Pittser.

- Enjoying your first day? - Oh, yes, I am, thank you.

- But about Shawnzie... - Why? Mr. Feeny, why?

Why are you sending Shawnzie off to reform school?

He'll rot in there, I tell you. Rot, rot, rot!

Yeah. Can't you give him another chance?

Mr. Hunterelli has run out of chances. And as for you, missy,

I suggest you mend your wayward ways and spit out that gum.

Man. You know, things aren't as perfect around here as I thought they'd be.

Well, I say we blow this dump and head down to Slim's and grab a burger.

I got a better idea. How about we go to the zoo and see the giraffes?

And why would I want to do a thing like that, huh?

And after the zoo we can get some Rocky Road ice cream.

Hey, who do you think you are thinking I like them giraffes

and Rocky Road ice cream out of nowhere like this, huh?

Topanga, I know you better than anybody.

I told you. Quit calling me Topanga.

And stop looking at me like that.

You're giving me the heebie-jeebies.

Everyone, quiet. I have dire news.

- The Russians have launched a satellite. - (all gasp)

Our government believes it to be a spy satellite with an atomic warhead.

Flash!

Russian satellite, 1957?

Hey, guys, guys, relax, OK? It's only Sputnik.

Sputnik?

Yeah. My parents told me all about it. It's not a bomb and it's not for spying.

The Russians are just doing some space-travel experiments.

- Are they? - Yeah.

And this arms-race thing, trust me, where I'm from, no one even worries about it.

Where would that be, Mr. Pittser?

Moscow?

Grab that boy! Bradley Pittser's a spy.

- Eric, please. I'm your brother. - Yeah, comrade, you mean.

Doesn't take a Harvard genius and future captain of industry like myself

to realize you're a traitor to these United States.

Flash!

(Eric) All right, that spy couldn't have gotten far.

All clear.

That was right there.

Perfect aim.

Come on, you two, we gotta scram before that bunch comes back.

- Yeah, but they'll recognize me. - Not in this clever disguise they won't.

So, why'd you want to come here?

'Cause this is my home and whenever things get crazy

this is the one place I can count on.

Why? Is this the secret headquarters for you and the rest of the Russian spies?

I'm not a Russian spy.

Hey, hey. Whatever. Friends don't need to explain nothing.

- I thought you didn't have friends. - I didn't.

Now I do.

So, TL, I guess this is goodbye, huh?

I thought I told you not to look at me like that.

Sorry. I just can't help it.

(barking)

(Eric) Come on, you can find one Russian spy. You're Harvard-trained dogs.

Mom? Dad?

Yes! Homemade brownies. OK, everything's gonna be all right.

Uh, uh, uh. Mom said no one can touch those brownies till after dinner.

- Morgan, where's Mom and Dad? - Mom's out, but Dad's upstairs.

Hey, kids.

- Daddy! - Hi, kitten. Hi, son.

- Here. Here's your allowance. - But I'm not your son.

- Well, then give me back my dime. - (knock at door)

You know what? I bet that's my dad.

- Dad! - No. Anson Williams.

- Wait a minute, you're... - No. Anson Williams.

Like I said I was. Anson Williams.

Whoever you think I was, let's just drop it, all right?

Just calm down, young fella, and have a nice brownie, huh?

Oh, thanks, Mr. B.

What's the matter with you, son? You look like you lost something.

I have. My entire life.

I can cheer you up.

You know, when I was down in the dumps my parents used to say...

Come to think of it I didn't have any parents. Not even a house.

I hung out at other people's houses. Not bad, really.

- Oh, Daddy, dearest. - Yes, snowflake.

There's something you've gotta see.

It's not true.

Of course it's not.

FBI?

J Edgar Hoover, please.

J Edgar? Tom.

Yeah, I'm here with Anson Williams and a Russian spy.

Ixnay on the otsiepay.

You're going to jail, spy.

Now, now, Morgan.

He may be a Russian spy, but until they come and haul him off, he's still our guest.

You don't understand, copper. I'm not a Russian spy.

This is my country. I'm from these here United States.

Hey, spy, you got visitors.

- Claim to be your folks. - Mom! Dad! Please, tell him you know me.

Well, of course we do, don't we, Alan?

Well, I think we'd know our own son, Amy.

You see, their own son, finally.

I got to tell you guys, this nightmare was getting way out of hand.

(Russian accent) Do you have the papers?

- Papers? - On the American space program.

What? You mean my term paper? Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Why are you guys talking like Boris and Natasha?

Good. He knows our secret code names.

Here. Take muffin.

Oh, I get it. It contains a secret transmitter.

During the night you'll contact me and break me out.

No, bubele, it is to eat. You are too thin.

You need to be strong for when they savagely torture you.

And if they don't, of course, our people will.

I'm not seeing any upside here.

- Oh, no! It's the big one! - (siren)

(all) Duck and take cover!

You guys set off the alarm?

- Yes. - Now, come on! Let's get off of this rock.

Well, what about the FBI? They'll recognize me.

Not in this clever chicken disguise, they won't.

Just cluck a lot and blend.

(Shawnzie) You'll... you'll be safe here in my make-out pad.

It's been abandoned for years.

(TL) Well, what girl would come to make out here?

(romantic music plays)

And it's rent-controlled.

So. How did you get into the spy racket?

I'm not a Russian spy, OK? My name is Cory Matthews. I'm from the future.

And I can prove it. My mom sews my name into my underwear.

I'll take a look.

"Eric Matthews?"

Oh, this day just keeps getting worse and worse.

Look.

Whoever you are, wherever you're from, it doesn't really matter.

What matters is that you're here.

What was that for?

I like to go to the zoo and look at the giraffes.

And sometimes at night when my friends are all out on dates,

but I'm not because I haven't found that right boy yet,

I drown my sorrows in a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream.

- Do me a favor, would you? - Anything you want.

Would you look at me that way I don't like?

I thought you said it scared you?

It does.

(Mr. Feeny over radio) We interrupt this program to bring you this news flash.

The manhunt for teenage fugitive spy, Brad Pittser, continues.

The Coast Guard's on alert.

You know, I don't understand it here.

Where I'm from, we're not so worried about bombs and satellites and Russian spies.

I mean, there are problems, sure, but most of the people get along.

It's pretty good where I'm from.

- I mean, better than I thought. - (sirens)

Now, all I want to do is go back. Isn't there some way out of here?

- Wise man? - Wise man.

Wise man?

Excuse me, Mr. Wise Man?

I am playing a song, man.

All right, now I'm finished.

- Wait a minute. You're the wise man? - No, I am clearly the hepcat.

Now, that there is the wise man.

Yo, Mr. Wise Man. Um...

Our friend here is in a lot of trouble and we figure that you're the only one...

Wise man see...

...young boy in trouble now wants to go back.

Ah.

Young boy name... Matthews.

Amazing.

- So can you help me? - How did you get here?

Well, the last thing I remember I was plugging in the microwave

and I must have gotten a shock or something.

Wise man says best way out is the way you came in.

- Huh? - Huh?

Get another microwave oven and give yourself another shock.

Listen, I ain't got time for all this. I got customers.

Look, are you guys gonna order something or are you gonna sit here all day?

- Wait a minute. He works here? - Hey, wise man gotta make a living.

Another shock. Why didn't I think of that?

You did. This is your fantasy.

Well, I know you've gotta go back, but I sure hate to lose a friend like you.

You won't.

I mean I-I think we could be friends just about anytime.

So.

I guess this is really goodbye, huh?

Yeah, I think so.

'Cause, you know, if you stayed I could really make it worth your while.

Could you hold that thought for about 40 years?

Oh, heck, you'll never find out about this anyway.

(barking and sirens)

OK. I gotta get out of here.

Wait a minute. It's 1957. There is no microwave.

Oopsy.

What kind of wise man says oopsy?

What do you want me to say? Wax on, wax off?

(whistle)

- There he is! - Another A plus, Mr. Matthews.

- (all) Spy! Spy! - No! I'm Cory!

- Spy! Spy! - I'm Cory! I'm Cory! I'm Cory!

- Spy! Spy! - I'm Cory! I'm Cory!

- Spy! Spy! Spy! Spy! - (Amy) Cory.

Cory.

Cory.

- Cory, honey, are you all right? - I'm not Brad Pitt. I'm not Brad Pitt!

Well, duh!

Easy, easy, pal. You had quite a jolt there.

- Yeah, you were out cold. - Shawnzie?

Yes-y?

You're always there for me, aren't you?

Hey.

What are you looking for, Cor?

She's here. I know she's here.

Hey, I got you some more ice.

Are you OK?

Why are you looking at me like that?

I will always look at you like this.

- Well, stop. - Why?

Because you're giving me the heebie-jeebies.

Good.

Eric.

I'm almost done with my term paper on the space program.

You'll be all done if you don't plug that in. The batteries are low, man.

Oh, wait. Eric, Eric, thank you.

You saved my life.

(electricity crackles)

Uh-oh. Not again. Where am I?

- Cory, are you OK? - Yeah. Still here.

Good. Well, let's keep it that way.

They know me. No foreign accents.

Everything's gonna be A-OK.

(Feeny) Mr. Matthews.

You know, you're in my kitchen dressed in a spacesuit.

Bridge, Captain Feeny here.

I have located the earth alien

and I will be escorting him back to the mother ship.

- Mr. Feeny, earth alien? I'm... - Beam us up.

(beeping)

Sure. Go ahead.

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