FANDOM


Whoa, whoa, whoa.




Yeah. Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick,

Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick




Nickelodeon.




Mm-hmm.




Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah




Give it, give it




Yeah, yeah




Whoo, yeah, yeah




It's Harriet the spy




Spies look at the eye




Now there she go

like looking at




Say why, hi, my, my, my,

my, my, my, my




Dig it, dig it, yeah




There she,

there she go, go, go




There she go now




Look at the spy




Hey, watch her, watch her,

watch her




She's a spy, my, my




Dig it, dig it




Oh, yeah




She's lookin'

in your eye, eye




Why? I don't know




Whoa, yeah.




Boy with ringlets.




Man with tattoos.




Girl on...




a leash?




Man, if my parents ever tried




putting me in one

of those things,




I'd trade them in.




This kid looks like

she can roll over and fetch.




I learn everything I can




and I write down

everything I see.




Golly says if I want

to be a writer




then I'd better start now.




Which is why I am a spy.




Lady with a purse.




Man with...




her wallet.




Oh, help!




Please!




Stop him!




Stop him!




Quack




Quack, quack




Quack




Quack, quack




And... done.




What is it?




It's Nanomichi.




You know, the god

of storm and thunder.




- Cool, huh?

- Okay, come on, hurry up




before it dries.




- Yeah.

- Yeah.




Okay, ready?




Here, give me

your foot.




The secret tattoo.




My best friends Sport,

Janie and I thought




we should be blood buddies.




But this was so much

less painful.




Just remember the rule.




If anyone sees

the secret tattoo...




...swift and painful death.




It's... starting.




Here comes...




nice Marion Hawthorne.




It's happening.




I can feel it happening.




Good Lord.




It's the dreaded

Hawthorne effect.




Oh.




Good morning, Janie, Simon...




and Harriet.




Harri... et!




I got to get to class.




See ya.




See you guys in a few.




Sixth grade.




All the usual suspects

are back in action.




First of all there's

Rachel Hennessy,




Marion's second in command.




The only thing more pathetic

than being Marion Hawthorne




is wanting to be

Marion Hawthorne.




Pinky Whitehead,




the human fish belly.




If Janie's theory is right,

then Pinky's DNA




was combined with a pint

of vanilla yogurt at birth.




Carrie Andrews thinks

she's cool...




'cause she spent her summer

vacation growing boobs.




Laura Peters looks like

someone pinched her face




and it stuck that way.




The boy with purple socks.




A man of mystery.




He never talks.




If I were known

only by my footwear,




I'd hang myself.




Beth Ellen Hansen always looks

like she's about to cry.




I wish someone

would just kick her




and get it over with.




And then of course,

there's our teacher...




Miss Elson.




She's nice, and polite.




I bet one day she goes

on a psycho killing spree,




and all her neighbors

will say...




"She was nice and polite."




Well, from what your last

two teachers tell me,




it looks like

déja vu all over again.




It's time to vote for

a sixth grade class president.




And for the third year

in a row...




we're down to our final

two nominees,




and they are Harriet Welsch




and Marion Hawthorne.




And so, as you may know,




the duties of the class

president include




taking attendance,

reporting bad behavior




and best of all, editing

the sixth grade newspaper.




And now we vote.




Marion Hawthorne... again.




Three years in a row.




You know what?

I think I'll invent a poison.




A really good,




clean, untraceable poison.




One that fries your brains




and makes all your bodily

fluids boil at once.




- Could you?

- Check it out.




One day I'd be like,

"Oh, hi, Marion.




"Oh, no, I'm not

finishing this soda."




And she'd be like...




I'm serious.




Any of you guys

want to come over?




I got to get home.




If my amoebas start

incubating,




they really stink up the house.




Harriet?




Sorry. Spy time.




Spy route.




Harrison Withers' place.




Higher altitude, lower risk.




But always a show.




Yeah, everybody's gonna have

some grease today...




All right, now, Jelly Roll.

Yeah.




Lady Day




Come what may,

whatever you say




We all gonna have

a good time




A little bit

for you, Satchmo




You, Bessie




And how 'bout you,

Jelly Roll?




Golly says, people

who love work love life.




Dizzy, Dizzy




I like Harrison Withers,




'cause he's a guy

that loves both.




Scooby dah...




Scooby-dooby, du-day




Okay, that's it.




Curiously, Harrison lives




for his cats.




Wow! Birdland.




But his work is for the birds.




Charlie Parker.




Yardbird.




In any case, his cages

are the most beautiful




I've ever seen.




It's him.




The Health Department

has it in for Harrison,




'cause they say he's got

too many cats.




I know, I know.




Too bad for them,

Harrison has a system.




See a hat, don't be home.




No hat, no problem.




Another score for the cat fan.




Hey.




Hey.




Want some necklace?




How about you, man?




Ew. You got it all spitty.




Tastes better that way.




Good.




Hey, Harriet,

what are you writing?




Notes.




Can we read them?




Can you read this?




Okay, okay.




I just wanted to know




why you're always

writing like a maniac.




I want to remember everything.




I want to know everything.




Well, you must realize, Harriet,




knowing everything

won't do you a bit of good




unless you use it to put

beauty in this world.




True or false?




True.




Of course it is.




Harriet, your mother called.




She's going to be late.




Come on, Sport, Janie.




I'll have you home

before dinner.




Golly always takes us places.




She sees things

other people barely notice.




She's my nanny and...

well, she's Golly.




Okay, survey of the day.




Today's question is:




What wouldn't you eat

for a million dollars?




Bratwurst.




Sport?




Um... camel boogers,

dried roadkill,




and my dad's meatloaf.




Janie?




It's the last day of summer.




Sad but true.




Au revoir, monsieur soleil.




Farewell!




So long, bye-bye.




Sayonara!




- Good-bye...

- We're here.




Is this a garden?




What a place!




What is this?




Golly, what's that?




That's Mrs. W.,

a very good friend of mine.




Kind of unusual.




You know, there are as many ways

to live




as there are people

in this world.




And each one

deserves a closer look.




Welcome!




Come on in.




Hi.




- Hi.

- Hi.




Hi.




Look around.




Have fun.




Whoa! Awesome!




Bop, bop, bop, bop!




Do-wat, do-wat, do-wat




I'm goin'!




Ooh.




I'm goin'!




Hey, you guys...




what do you say

I propose a toast?




Come on.




Oh... go away.




Say it quick, before

it stops fizzing.




Shake it up, take a sip,

and wish for what you want




most in the world.




Okay.




I want to replicate

my own DNA




and win

the Nobel Peace Prize. Yeah.




Oh!




Very good, Janie.




Okay, shake it up, Sport.




Shake it up.




I want to play

more baseball games




than Cal Ripkin, Jr.




Oh, yeah!




And get filthy rich doing it.




Oh, yeah!




Shake it, Harriet.




I want to see the whole world




and I want to write down

everything.




Harriet, slow down.




That's very impressive.




Harriet?




I'm goin'!




That's good, Harriet.




That's very pretty,

isn't it, Janie?




Yes, I like it.




Got you!




Hey, wait up.




Everybody, hello!

It sucks, sixth grade!




Feet off the bed, please.




Okay.




Feet off.




Oh, the heinie bounce.




Good choice.




Very cute, Harriet,

very cute.




The neighbors

will ask me,




"What happened

to Harriet Welsch?"




"I don't know,"

I'll answer.




"Such a shame.




"She disappeared

without a trace.




And she was

so adorable."




How long have you been

with me, Golly?




Since you were born.




  years and
     tomato sandwiches ago.




And you'll never leave me,

right?




Well, I won't leave you

"leave you," Harriet,




but, you know, one day

you're going to be big enough.




And well... well, big enough

to take care of yourself.




And when that day comes




you won't need me

and I'll be gone.




But you know what?




That day is not today.




And now, it's time for bed.




Are Mom and Dad

tucking me in?




No.




They're at a very fancy party




and I bet they're thinking

about you right now. Really.




Listen, I think I can hear 'em.




Harriet...




listen to everything

Golly says to you.




We're drinking champagne

and eating caviar, Harriet.




Come on.




Let's go to bed.




Who's going to bed?




Uh, you are, tough guy.




- Come on.

- Ow! Ow!




Child abuse! Child abuse!




Oh, you think

that's child abuse?




You haven't even...

How about that?




What about that?

What about one of these?




Stand still,

you little booger.




Ugh!




I'm telling you,

just give me the big knife




and this will all be over.




Harriet, dear,

you have taken




a tomato sandwich

to school with you...




With mayonnaise.




...with mayonnaise

every day




for that past five years.




Don't you want

a little variety?




Nope.




Not even cream cheese

with olive?




Yum-yum-yum!




Or how about pastrami?

Roast beef?




How about the fancy

cucumber kind,




with the crust cut off?




Mom, I can't help it

if I know what I like.




And I know that I like tomato.




After school spy route...




Hong Fat's Food Emporium




Holy cats, a veggie thief.




This must be investigated

thoroughly.




Frankie, you took the truck

last week.




Wasn't that enough?




Stop walking around.




Frankie, go do some homework.




I've done my homework.




Do some reading.




Watch TV.

Do something.




Grandpa, all I need

is the truck.




I know you know

that I mean.




Come on, Ma,

let me have the truck.




I got a date!




What do you take me for?




The Hong Fats have a son...

Frankie.




He's cool; American style.




His parents are

Chinese-style cool.




Frankie likes going out,




but they'd rather

he work in the store,




selling milk and bread

and lizards.




Ugh!




I mean, do I try to interfere

with your bookkeeping?!




My business is comedy!




That's what I do!




I'm funny!

I'm the funny guy!




Yes, you are.




They're the money guys.




Okay, slippery,




bath time's over.




Come out with your hands up.




But I just got in.




Oh, sure.

I believe that one.




Let's see your fingers,

prune girl.




Talk to the hand,

'cause the face




ain't gonna listen.




He asked me to come up




with something new,

something fresh.




You read it.

It was good.




- Yes.

- It was the funniest script




we've had all year!




Yes, it was. So what

was their problem?




Hey, I want to hear.




Oh, yeah?

I want to sing opera,




but I can't, so I don't.




That downstairs is...




Well, your dad

has a high-pressure job.




What's a high-pressure job?




It's when you don't

get to do what you want




and when you do,




you don't have time to do it.




Do spies have

high-pressure jobs?




Only when

they're caught.




I'm never caught.




You're right.




You never are.




Oh, look, a ugly water bug!




Hey!




Caught ya.




Here she is.




Night.




Good night.




Good night. You want

me to tuck you in?




Golly can do it.




"'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."'




- Do you have any wings?

- Yeah.




Let me see.




Crap? No, no.




This stuff is beyond crap.




This is what crap wants

to be when it grows up.




Listen to this.




"A Question Corner

by Marion Hawthorne.




"Horse riding,

for those who can afford it




"is a very wonderful sport.




"Every weekend,

my father takes me riding




and we laugh together

as we ride."




Does she mention

her mom pays for dork lessons?




Man, once that




disintegration ray

is complete... bzzt!




She's molecular toast.




- Oh, yeah.

- Oh, yeah.




Mom and Dad's night out.




Me and Golly's night in.




Hello.




What's that smell?




Delicious

German bratwurst.




We hate bratwurst.




I love bratwurst.




Since when?




I'll get it!




No. No, no. I will get it.




I'll get it! I'll get it!

I'll get it!




I'll get it!

I'll get it! I'll get it!




I said I'll get it




and I mean

I'll get it.




- I got it!

- No.




I'll get it!




Good evening, Katherine.




The veggie thief.




Katherine?




Harriet Ann Welsch,




Mr. George Waldenstein.




How do you do?




Yeah.




I've seen him around.




Bet he stole that pineapple.




Good soup.




Harriet,




where are your manners?




I don't know.




Maybe somebody stole them.




Hey, you cheated.




Oh, you win.




My congratulations.




Yeah, well, I know some stuff.




So, you're




a delivery boy?




Mm-hmm.




Well, no offense, but, uh,

you're like, what,  ?




Ish.




Shouldn't you be

a delivery man by now?




Harriet!




Well, Harriet, I'll tell you.




Not long ago,

I had another life.




I had a big business,

I had a lot of money,




and you know what?




I was the most

miserable man alive.




So, one day,

I told my wife that...




- Wife?

- I told my wife that I




wanted to start all over

again and if she wanted to,




she could start all over

with me.




So what happened?




Oh, she left me, but that's

all right, that was her choice.




My choice was to become

a delivery boy... well, man.




I don't have the

business, of course.




I don't have the money.




You know what?




My life is sweet again.




Hmm.




The wurst!




Oh, no! My wurst!




No, no!




Oh...




Oh, Lord.




Oh, no. No.




Don't be sad, Katherine.




This is a blessing

in disguise.




That's a pretty

good disguise.




Don't you see?




The three of us

have to go out for dinner.




- No.

- Yeah!




Yes, dinner and a movie!




Movie, movie, movie!

Come on, Golly!




The idea seems

popular enough.




Yes, but the Welschs...




Will be out.




Till million o'clock!




- Oh, please, Golly.

- Please, oh, please?




Oh, please, please,

please, oh, please.




Oh, please, please, please.




What the heck.




This is absurd.




Yes!




Don't speak.




Wait! Wait for me!

I'm not dead.




Are you okay?




Yeah.




Hey.




How come

all the lights are on?




Where is my child?




Uh-oh.




Harriet? Harriet,

what are you doing




in that contraption?




Come in here at once.




Miss Golly,

what are you doing




with my child, at this hour,

without my consent?




- Who is that?

- My name is...




- Shut up!

- I'm sorry.




We only went to dinner

and then a movie.




Harriet is not

your daughter, Miss Golly.




She is mine,

and you have no idea, none,




what it is like

to come home and find




- that your child is missing.

- We had no idea




that you'd be home this soon.




I don't care.

I don't care what you did




or where you went or why.




All I know is this

can never happen again.




Miss Golly... you are fired.




What?! No!




Just a moment.




This is my fault. Please.




Well, it seems

awfully sudden.




Actually...




maybe it's not.




I think you're right,

Mrs. Welsch.




It is time for me to go.




What?




What?




What?




Now, look, I admit, I lost it...




because, I just...

I was frightened.




But the thing is, the fact is

we need you, Golly.




We can't do it alone.




We all spoke out of turn,

I think.




None of this is causing...




Absolutely not.




Absolutely, no.




I mean, I think we were

talking about...




our feelings out there.




You were afraid

and-and-and now




what we should

be focusing on, right?




Is-is Harriet.




Look, I'm sorry.




- I lost my head out there.

- Look. There.




- No, no.

- I was just...




but you can't go...

I mean, we need you.




Harriet would never

stand for it.




Please, won't

you reconsider?




You know, it's not about




what happened

outside tonight.




It really isn't.




But Golly...




I just... no, I think it's time.

I really do.




Harriet can take care of herself

now, so she should.




But Harriet's just...




She's just a little girl.




You know, it's the right thing.




It's the right thing

for all of us...




for me, for you

and for Harriet.




Are you sure?




Yeah, I am.




"'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."




Where you going to go?




Well, I don't really know.




I'm thinking I may travel.




Are you going to go be

some other kid's nanny now?




And love them more than you?




Never.




Remember, in my life,

in this world




there will always

only be one Harriet.




So get back to work...

you've lost nearly




an entire day

on your notebook.




It doesn't matter.




It doesn't matter?




Did I hear you say

"It doesn't matter"?




Because I thought

I heard you say




"It doesn't matter,"




but Harriet wouldn't say that,

would she?




Now come on...




just because

you're on your own,




doesn't mean the world

stops turning,




or that there are

no more fascinating people




to observe and fill

your notebooks with.




That's your job, Harriet.




That's your job for life.




And when you're all grown up




and you sell

your first novel,




I'll be first in line

at that bookstore,




getting my autographed copy.




I hope.




I'm not going to cry.




I'm not going to cry.




I'm not going

to cry.




Ah, it's okay to cry.




But whatever you do,

don't laugh.




No, Harriet,




I will not tolerate laughter

as I leave, no.




Hey...




come here.




You remember...




a good spy can

get in there and fight.




Good-bye, Harriet the Spy.




I was kind of worried, you know?




I kind of thought, "Well,

there's something wrong




with me or something," and so...




Growing up from girl to woman,




there's so much to get used to.




This is the time when a whole

new set of feelings unfold.




Feelings about yourself

and your maturing body...




Everything's the same

as when Golly was here.




It looks the same...




it smells the same...




but there's this

tiny hole inside me




that wasn't there before.




It's like...




like a splinter

in your finger...




only this one's

right above my stomach.




Harriet,




are you okay?




Uh-huh.




Something's... different.




No cats?




How can Harrison Withers

not have a billion cats around?




They finally nailed him.




I will always remember

that face.




That's the face you make

when you really lose something.




Uh-oh, Frankie took the truck.




Speak English!




Oh, okay, you want us

to speak English, huh?!




Well, you are a jerk, huh?




I tell you, "Don't

take the truck.




You smash the truck."




Well, you tell me now,




Mr. Wise Guy,

was one date worth it?




...we have people

here shopping!




Yeah.




Hey, all right, Grandpa.




It's cool, right?




It wasn't a big deal, huh?




I knew you'd

understand, right?




Sometimes I think

families everywhere




are exactly the same.




Everybody get back to work.




Mom, Dad, please?

Grandpa!




Just calm down.




Too exciting.




$ . .




You got it or not?




Hey, Sport.




How you doing?




Hi.




Um, I saw you drop this outside.




Oh...




Thanks.




I got to go.




Now it's time for our annual

sixth grade holiday pageant.




So... pageant ideas...




who would like

to make a suggestion?




Simon.




Pirates.




Okay.




Good dramatic potential,

if not exactly seasonal.




Anyone else?




How 'bout the Manhattan Project?




I can be J. Robert Oppenheimer




and with the right chemicals,




I know I can do

a mushroom cloud.




That's impressive, Janie.




But I believe there's

a taste issue involved.




Ballet.




Pilgrims.




Musical.




Swan Lake.




Jazz.




Vlad the lmpaler.




Yeah, that's cool!




I think the most excellent idea

for a pageant




would be

a giant holiday feast.




Something healthy, low in fat,

and very delicious, of course.




There could be parts

for everybody.




Uh, grains, vegetables




and best of all,

a shiny, silver centerpiece.




That's a very good idea, Marion.




You could play the barf bag.




She made me an onion.




Tell me about it.




"You, my dear,

are a great big squash."




I'd like to squash her.




I've got something better.

Come here.




Smell this.




Ugh!




What is that?




You like it?




Wait, I mean you hate it.




It's like something crawled

up my nose and then died.




Excellent.




It's a sulfur-based

alkaloid.




I want it to chemically

fuse with combustibles.




And, in English,

that would mean...




Stink bomb.




Stink bomb.




We tape it to the

school air ducts,




attach it to a timer,




and five minutes before

the school play starts...




Empty auditorium.




Hey...




What are you girls doing?




Nothing.

Nothing.




Are you getting ready

for your big stage debut?




Actually, Mrs. Gibbs,




Janie and I were just talking

about the school play.




Right, Janie?




Yeah, we're really

looking forward to it.




Good, good.




That's good.




Janie, what is this

supposed to be?




No, Mom.




Don't touch it.




What?!




Janie!




It's an experiment with mold.




Oh... Janie!




That's where my Veronica's

Closet bra went to, huh?




You know,

I'm sick to death




of this mad scientist baloney.




Look at this.

Look at this.




Girl, we got to talk.




I don't know what I'm

going to do with you,




but we're going

to talk.




Some of Janie's experiments

really creep me out.




I wonder if she'll grow up

to be a billion-IQ genius,




or a total nutcase.




Sport, Sport...




Chicken man.




Do it again, do it again.




Sport.




Sport...




Sport!




Help me.




Hey, Harriet.




Hey.




All right, come on.




How does it look?




Uh...

give me the mousse.




No, no...




Don't worry, it's just

one of Dad's nightmares.




I mean day-mares.




He says it happens

to all great writers




before they get their big break.




Hmm, a real writer.




My dad calls guys like your dad

"a starving artist."




Who's starving?




I cook, I clean,

I do the dishes and the books.




What do you mean,

do the books?




These are the books.




Every week I get a check.




I write the amount

down in here,




I pay the bills and then

whatever's left is food money.




I hate money.




You'd like it a lot more

if you didn't have any.




I got to get to work.




Hey, Sport?




No! Don't.




Yeah, yeah, come on.




Strike a pose.




Spy route: Brand-new stalk.




Home of Agatha K. Plummer,




a big private house

with big-type security.




Until today.




A spy must choose

ingenious tricks,




must blend

into her surroundings.




Hiya, Freckles.




Must live with being called...

"Freckles."




Here we go, in you go.




Here he is.




So, here's the little monster.




Bye. Wave to the man.




Are you happy?




Good.




Oh, score!




Quiet. Quiet, puppy dog.




Go away!




Don't, don't, don't.

Go away.




Pee-wee, don't make me

come in there.




Away.




Go away!




Pee-wee... get away




from that dumbwaiter.




Shut up.




Stupid fuzzball.




I ought to shave you down

and teach you to hunt.




Shut up!




No, no.




No, darling.




If you want to talk about

something delicious...




...I have




something delicious.




I have the secret of life.




Yes, darling.




You simply




crawl into your bed,




and you never, ever

leave it again.




Never...




Ah, sweet Liberace.




What was that?




I have no idea.




Then why don't you




go over there and get an idea?




And if it's that rat...




kill it!




Oh, Mrs. Plummer,




I'm sure




it's absolutely nothing.




Oh, well...




A good spy never gets caught.




A good spy

never gets caught.




A good spy never gets caught.




I am the suckiest spy on earth.




Hey, Harriet, check this out.




"This year's winter

pageant promises




"to be truly inspiring,

as Miss Elson's




"sixth grade class

presents a holiday feast,




"starring a turkey, vegetables,




"and a grand finale




of delicious, dancing... gravy."




Oh, my God.




I'd like to see her

split a turkey suit




with butt-breath

Pinky Whitehead.




Hurry up.




You're so slow.




Come on, you guys.




Harriet, you want

to go play in the park?




Or do you have to do that

top secret spy deal again?




No. I can play.




You can?




Yeah, come on.




No way.




I still say we play

"Buy the Volvo."




No way.




- That's stupid.

- No.




No way!




You guys, I can be the dealer.




You guys can be

the couples looking




for a sassy yet affordable

family vehicle.




Get real.




Yeah, right.




Okay, I've got it:

Hide and Seek.




- No.

- Hide and Seek?




I am set.




That's retarded.




Red Rover, Red Rover.




No!




That's a kid's game.




I don't think so.




- Kick the can.

- Kick...




What about Spin the Bottle?




Ew!




Yeah, right.




I got it.




Bumper tag.




See, now, that's a good idea.




Eenie-meenie, miney-mo,




Catch a tiger by the toe.




If he hollers, let him go.




My mom said to pick

the very best one,




and you are




it.




Away, you foolish mortals!




Beth's it!




Got you!




You run fast,




but now I shall destroy you.




Yeah.




Oh.




You winded?




Nope.




Me, too.




Upsey-daisy.




Time to move.




Where's my notebook?




Your what?




My notebook!




Oh, my God.




Boy...




- Wait, wait. No, wait.

- Carrie...




Carrie.

Carrie, Carrie, Carrie.




Andrews.




Get this. Get... Okay.




"Carrie Andrews thinks

she's so cool




"'cause she spent

her summer vacation




growing boobs."




- Come on, read some more.

- Okay.




Hold on, hold on.




Okay.




"Now, the Boy with

the Purple Socks




is a man of mystery."




Mystery!




Hold on, you guys,

you guys.




Listen, listen, listen.




"The only thing more pathetic




"than being Marion Hawthorne,




is wanting to be

Marion Hawthorne."




Oh, Rachel.




Rachel.




She is...




- Jealous.

- She's jealous.




It's pure jealousy.




You give that back now!




Looks like there's something

in here for everyone.




You heard her, Marion.




Give it back before I pound you

into the cement.




Ooh, I'm so scared.




Hey, maybe there

is something




in here for you.




Janie...




Janie, Janie, Janie...




Come and get it.




Read it. Come on.




What does it say?




- Come on.

- Janie, Janie.




"Janie really

creeps me out."




Ooh.




"I wonder if she'll grow up

to be...




a total nutcase..."?




A nutcase!




Oh.




Hey.




Her best friend.




That's her best friend.




Beth.




"I wish

someone would kick Beth Ellen."




Oh!




Uh, Laura.




"Laura Peters...

her face looks totally...




pinched."




Oh.




"If I were the boy

with the purple socks...




I'd hang myself."




Something else.




Cut it out, Marion.




Oh.




Maybe there is something

in here for Sport.




No!




"Sport..."




Shut up!




Fine, then.




I'll read it right out loud




so everybody can hear.




No!




"Sport is so poor,

he can't even afford food.




"Why can't his father




just get a real job?"




Oh, and get this, as well.




"One day, I had to pretend

he dropped a dollar




just so he could afford

some milk and bread."




Oh.




Ooh, harsh.




Oh, oh, oh.




That's mean.




Sport, I...




I-I got to go.




It-it's spaghetti night.




I got to make spaghetti.




I can't stay here anymore.




Harriet...




sit over there till we decide

what to do with you next.




Wait. What's this?




"I learn everything I can




"and I write down everything

I see.




"Golly says if I

want to be a writer,




"then I'd better start now,




"which is why




I'm a spy."




My position is bad.




My position is terrible.




My position could not be worse.




Golly would know what to do.




Harriet?




Harriet, are you all right?




Fine.




Do you want anything?




No.




You sure?




Ole Golly, Ole Golly,

Ole Golly,




Ole Golly, Ole Golly,




Ole Golly, Ole Golly,

Ole Golly.




Harriet?




I said




I'm fine.




Really.




Lookit.




Oh, my God.




Hey, Sport.




Janie.




You hear something?




No.




Plug this in over there.




Over there?




Um, well, that one's closer.




Carrie? Carrie?




Oh, my...




Sport? Sport, catch.




Let me see.




We love our teacher,

and our best friend




We'll stay together




Until the end




We're moving up...




...and together,

we'll always have fun




We love our teacher,

and our best friend




We'll stay together




Until the end




We're one for all,

and all for one




And together,

we'll always have fun...




I will always have a notebook.




Only Golly understands this.




I will write down everything,

and I'll know everything.




And I'll take everything

I know,




and write my memoirs,




and be a huge, big, celebrity,




and go on all the talk shows




and tell them

Marion Hawthorne smells.




And... won't that rock?




What smells?




Eww!




Did something die?




- Get away.

- Eww!




Where's your notebook, Harriet?




I don't know, Marion.




Have you looked

up your butt?




You all better stop

being mean to me,




or else, I'm going to...




Or else, what?




Yeah, what are you

gonna do about it?




I'm gonna get you real bad.




I'm gonna...




No, that's where you're

wrong, Harriet the Spy.




We're gonna get you so bad...




and you know why?




'Cause we have a plan.




Yeah!




I don't like giving orders

twice, you know.




I told you to nail it

to the side, not to the right.




One, two, three, heave!




I need more nails.




Harder, harder.




Hold it, hold it.




A club for catching spies?




I'm doomed.




"If Golly said choose

between being a spy




"and having friends...




I'd pick spy."




Maybe you're not allowed

to have both."




Ugh!




Get her!




Spy-catchers are everywhere.




My route is ruined.




No one can stand in my way.




Forget that my heart sank




when I saw you standing there

with that policeman.




This is your mother talking.




But when I ask you

for some kind of explanation,




it's like...




It's not that big a deal.




Oh, no... wrong.




Being brought home by the cops




is a very big deal, Harriet.




Cop. Cop.




One guy. That's it.




No, that's not it;

we've spoken with Miss Elson.




You remember school?




And she tells us

that you've done




zero schoolwork in days.




All you do is play

with your notebook.




It's not play, it's work.




School is your

work, Harriet.




Yeah, well, she can shut up,

'cause I'm learning tons.




Oh, yes?




Well, not about history, huh?




Not about geography.




Not even English.




I swear, if it's

not in your notebook,




it's as if you don't

want to know about it.




So what?




Harriet...




This... obsession

you've developed




is not entirely

healthy.




Now, we've made

a decision.




And-And we, uh...




We want you to stop




with the notebook.




S-Stop writing?




Not forever,

just as an experiment.




Harriet, the world is filled

with so many things




a person like yourself

could enjoy.




Well, that's right.




And you're going to find that,

sometimes




just experiencing

them can be enough.




That's how I experience things...

with my notebook.




Harriet...




No. Let's see you

experience things




without your unhealthy

obsessions, huh?




Every day you come home,

and pour yourself a big martini.




How come you don't

give that up?




And how many days go by




without you going

to a stupid party?




Or buying some other piece

of crappy jewelry... like, two?




Don't take that tone with us,

young lady.




We're your parents.

We make the rules in this house.




Now, hand over

the notebook.




I threw it away.




You're sitting on it.




I'm not moving.




If you make me move you,




I will move you.




I'll just get another one.




Oh?




Miss Elson will be checking.




Harriet?




Don't you want

to talk about this?




No.




Harriet... did we forget?




Notebook check.




Dweeb!




Hey...




Harriet the Spy,

Harriet the Spy...




Harriet the Spy,

Harriet the Spy...




Oops!




I'm sorry!




You did that

on purpose!




It was an accident,

I swear.




- Here, let me help you.

- No!




Get away!




Get away!




That's it, work together,




and we'll have Harriet

cleaned up in no time.




Don't worry, Harriet,




we'll all help you.




No, stop it.




I don't need your help.




You all get away!




No!




No!




Harriet!




Wait!




Whoa...




Well, that wasn't

very dignified.




"To be... or not to be...




"That is the question.




Wait.




Is that a question?




"Whether 'tis nobler

in the mind to suffer




"The slings and arrows




"Of outrageous fortune




"Or to take arms




"Against a sea of terribles




"And by optioning, end them?




"To die...




I want to die.




"To sleep no more




"And by a sleep to say




"We end the heart-chat




"And the thousand

nags of shock...




"The flesh




"is here, too...




"'Tis a consummation




"Development to be wished




To die... to sleep no more."




There are many signs that Tom

is changing from a boy to a man.




Tom is getting a deeper voice




and sometimes it gives him

a little trouble.




Don't be insulting




my... friend.




This is an actual photograph

of vocal chords taken through




a special instrument.




The chords vibrate

when the person breathes out.




The larynx is here

at the top of the windpipe




and is the housing

for the vocal cords.




Bra on a pole!

Bra on a pole!




Oh, no.




Hello, Marion.




Get away from me, Harriet.




Or what, you gonna

tell your father?




I heard my parents talking.




You don't have a father.




All those stories about

horseback riding are garbage.




You made them all up.




Your father lives in Amsterdam.




He hasn't seen you

in three years.




And you want to know why,

Marion?




'Cause he

doesn't love you.




Move.




Harriet?




Harriet, come down here.




Harriet, what's happened to you?




We've gotten calls

from every parent at school.




They're all either

furious or terrified.




Marion Hawthorne

can't stop crying.




Laura Peters has locked herself

in the bathroom




and won't come out.




The only parents

we haven't heard from




are Pinky Whitehead's.




I'm not answering that.




I always hated school myself.




No, now, see,

that's the problem.




What? I know...




Something is very wrong here,

Ben, and you need




...to take this seriously.

- I am!




- No, come on.

- I'm just as serious as...




You know what you're doing.




- You're coming in and teasing...

- No, I'm not.




We have a really

bad situation.




We don't know what

the situation is at all.




You always come in and make

jokes and then I have to come in




Do we know

what the situation is?




...and be the grumpy one.




Maybe we should find out

what it is.




I'm fine, I'm fine...




I'm fine,

I'm fine...




I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine...




I'm fine!




No, sweetheart.




I can't understand

how this is fine.




Harriet, uh, uh,

can you explain this?




Well, what do we do now?




We can do anything you like.




What am I supposed to do?




How about a game?




Do you play chess?




Golly was going

to teach me, but...




Golly?




Who's he?




Just somebody.




You sit here and play

with this stuff all day?




Don't you have toys at home?




Yeah.




But I'm .




You stink.




What are you doing?




Just taking notes.




Are they the mean,




nasty kind...

or the regular kind?




Why?




Because...




I'm just telling you,




it's tough getting away

with the nasty kind these days.




Thanks for the advice.




Nobody ever takes




your notebook away from you,

I bet.




Tell you what.




How about I give

you a notebook.




Would you like that?




Yeah. Sure.




This guy's not bad.




Definitely one of those people




Golly says deserves

a closer look.




At least he knows the value

of a good notebook.




Harriet?




Hmm?




It's time to go.




Can I keep the notebook?




I'll have to talk

to your parents about that.




Well, what did he say?




What did he say?




Well, he says that, uh,

you're fine.




And, uh, you're a wonderful girl

and very smart




and you'll be

a terrific writer some day.




I could've told you that.




I didn't read it.




Good.




You know, Harriet,




uh, someday... when you grow up...

you might have children.




Doubt it.




Well, not tomorrow,




or soon, but some day.




Maybe.




And, if you do,




you're going to try really hard

to understand them.




But I keep telling you...




I know, you told me

about the notebook.




And even though

you're telling me,




and even though

I'm listening,




I still don't

understand it, Harriet.




Is that why you

took it away?




We made a mistake.




Don't do it

again, okay?




We try.




Mom?




Yeah?




Will you tuck me in?




Sure.




There we go.




Green.




G-R-E-E-N.




Aren't you going to work

on your notebook today?




Yeah. Pick a number.




Seven.




One, two, three, four,

five, six, seven.




All right.




"Turn around."




That's not a fortune.




Turn around.




Why?




Turn around.




Golly?




Golly!




Why, Harriet the Spy,




I believe you've grown

a full inch.




Nuh-uh.




You certainly have grown.




Oh, Golly!




So what do I do now, Golly?




"Beauty is truth,

truth beauty.




"That is all

ye know on Earth




and all ye need

to know."




John Keats.




What is that

supposed to mean?




It means you've

got trouble.




You wrote down the

truth in your notebook,




and your friends, who weren't

supposed to see it, did.




Now there are only two

things for you to do,




and you're not going to

like either one of them.




Like what?




Well, you have to apologize

and you have to lie.




But you said never to lie.




I know, I did.




Let me see how

I can explain this.




Sometimes a little lie that

makes people feel better




isn't really wrong.




You know, like,

you can thank someone




for a meal they cooked you,

even if you hated it.




You could tell a sick friend

that they look better,




even if they don't.




Sometimes a really small lie

can be a really big help.




They tried to squash me

like a bug.




It's too hard.




It's not worth it.




Aw, never say

that, Harriet.




You're worth it.




You're an individual,

and you know something?




That makes people nervous.




And it's going to keep making

people nervous your whole life.




My whole life?




Yep.




What do I do?




You stay true to Harriet

and you accept the cost.




Now, come on.




That's enough lessons

for today, okay?




You're .




I think it's time for you

to start writing something




other than notes.




Like what?




You'll think of something.




Can't you come back

for just a little while?




Oh, no, I never go back.

Only forward.




And you know what else?




Good friends are one

of life's blessings.




Don't give them up

without a fight.




Replicate.

Replicate.




Stupid spores.




Hi, Janie.




Look what you made me do.




This stuff is going to eat




right through the floor.




Three months of incubation

down the porcelain pee hole.




If you roll the rug over it,

it won't show so much.




Oh, so next time you

can ruin the rug?




No.




Then why are you here?




I just want to say that...




What?




Forget it.




Fine.




Forget it.




I'm sorry, Janie, okay?




I'm sorry.




Will you take a look at this.




Huh? Huh?




What do you think of your

old man now, Sport?




     smackaroos.




No more paying with change.




No more, no more spaghetti.




Going to feel like steak.




And you know those fancy

basketball sneakers




with the, with the

buckles and the Velcro




and the crap all over them?




Their yours, buddy boy,

all yours.




Hello?




Murray.




Hey, hey,

I take it all back.




All agents

aren't useless.




Oh, I'm kidding you,

I'm kidding you, man.




You know I was always

in your corner.




Oh, yeah, I knew

you'd come through.




Well, Sport and I

are gonna do




a little celebrating today...




- Hey.

- Hey.




Sold his book?




Got a real job.




Hey, Harriet, you

hear the good news?




You're a writer.




So how's it feel?




Oh, big slice off heaven,




side order of fries.




Say, you hungry?




I feel like going

to the fanciest,




schmanciest

restaurant in town.




We'll abuse the waiter.




Who's with me? Harriet?




She can't come.




What do you mean,

she can't come?




You haven't even asked her.




I said she can't come.




You can't be my friend

if you're not my friend.




I'm sorry, Sport.




I'm sorry.




No one will forgive me.




Things will never be the same.




I have nothing left to lose.




Someone told me

the only reason




you guys play with me is

because of my mom's cake.




Well, it is very good cake.




Yeah, but how come we get

these pieces and you get those?




We told you,

we're officers.




And we need our strength.




You get to fix the clubhouse.




Somebody's dreaming.




I am so bored.




If you don't like it,

you can leave.




Hey, you're right.




Wait up.




Anybody sick of

listening to her




ought to get a life.




Okay, but you can't come back!




We're voting! It's official!




Shh! Teacher!

There she is.




Good morning.




Today, we are...




Yes, Harriet?




Miss Elson,

I've been thinking a lot,




and you know how class president




automatically gets to be editor

of the sixth grade newspaper?




Yes.




Well, I think...




I think that it's

too much for one person




and that it's not fair

to everybody




because everybody

deserves a chance.




And...




And we should change it.




Objection!




This isn't a courtroom, Marion.




I like that idea, Harriet.




Let's see what the class thinks.




Miss Elson, I think




I speak for everyone when I say




this is, this is a really,

really stupid idea.




That is one opinion.




But let's take a vote.




Marion is now editor

of the Guidepost.




Would anyone like to nominate

another candidate?




Well, I guess if no one

has anything to say...




I have something to say.




I think that Harriet's

a very good writer and...




if we only listen

to one person's opinion




we may never

get anywhere new.




But Harriet might have

something very original




and I'd like to read

what she has to write.




Is there a second?




I second it.




I third it.




Okay, then.




Harriet Welsch is now

a candidate for editor.




Who votes for Harriet?




That... is that.




Yes.




I am on a mission

to be a great writer.




A good friend once told me




that all great writers

try to see everything.




Okay, here goes:




I knew this guy once.




He used to be a bajillionaire.




Now he rides a bike.




Want to know the freaky part?




He says the bike's better.




Please write in

if you think he's lying.




There's a difference

between looking at stuff




and really seeing it.




Look who's here.




Give them some bread, huh?




Here you are.




To really see,




you've got to get a closer look.




Why, thank you.




So much.




A cabbage.




Carrots in here for you.




And a sausage.




I've noticed that, sometimes,




stuff you think

is broken forever




is actually totally fixable.




But some stuff is supposed

to fall apart.




Speaking of which,




certain high ranking officials

of a certain




secret club had better

de-dorkify themselves




in a hurry...




or else everybody's going back




to where they were

in the first place.




This reporter believes




that de-dorkification

is a difficult,




but not impossible, process.




Mostly, you've got to want

to be cured.




But I'm pretty sure

it's a two steps forward,




one step back kind of deal.




In theater news, Miss Elson's

sixth grade holiday pageant




was the theatrical controversy

of the season.




Some were happy to see it,




and who am I to argue?




Others say... it stunk.




This reporter has no comment.




And, hey, stupid school board,




give Miss Elson a raise,

would you?




She's not so bad,

as teachers go.




And she puts up with a lot.




There's evidence to suggest

that Janie Gibbs




will grow up to be

the world's greatest scientist.




So far, she has shown amazing

progress in the areas




of mold manipulation

and chemical combustibles.




We have also learned

that Sport's father




is rolling in dough

from his latest book,




which just goes to show,

if you stick to what you love...




and work like a dog...

you will succeed.




For those of you who don't know,

a retraction




is when a newspaper

takes something back.




This newspaper would like

to retract certain statements




in a certain notebook




which may have hurt

certain people's feelings.




They were lies.




And those that weren't lies...




were mean.




Like, just because

a person's father is far away




does not mean

he doesn't love you.




Anyway, don't think about it.




The truth is important,




but so are your friends.




And if you can have them both,

then it's a good life.




Until next issue, I remain

your faithful correspondent,




Harriet M. Welsch.




Get up offa that thing




And dance till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




And dance till you...

sing it now




Get up offa that thing




And dance till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




Just try to release

that pressure




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




And shake... say it now




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




Try to release that pressure




Get up off...




Huh




Good God




So good




Uhh




Everybody ready?




Follow me




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you...

say it now




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




Just try to release

that pressure




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you...

sing it now




Get up offa that thing




And shake till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




Ooh... so good




Huh!




Whoo-hoo!




Get up offa that thing




Eew, a stink bomb!




Get up offa that thing




Get up offa that thing




Dance till you feel better




Get up offa that thing




Just try to release

that pressure




Wait a minute




Funky




I need it.




A crack in the door




A slit in the vines




A hole in the fence




So easy to find




People doing people things




Whatever that might be




They go on

about their business




Too wrapped up to see




In the shadows




My unblinking eye




I love...

the secretive life




I hide in the park,

behind a bush




I see runners and skaters




And a half naked man

showing off his tattoos




And I see old Mr. Gray

in his bad toupee




With some dumb girl

about half his age




- People doing people things

- Definitely not his wife




Are calling out to me




All their grand

and foolish schemes




It's better than TV




They're so funny,

I could almost cry




I love...

the secretive life




There's Johnny's dad

on his third martini




And his nose

is getting bigger




As I watch him through

the kitchen window




They really oughta

close those blinds




And under my coat,

I got a microrecorder




A pad, and a pencil,

and a picture of you




I can't believe you did that




I see two love birds

walking by




With that sick and dreamy

look in their eye




And there's a big fat cop

with a Magnum mustache




Trying so hard to look mean




The secretive life

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